#a hat and scarf and an arm not his

[cod-dump]

'Alone' sounding like a mixture of Ghost's voice with other people. Simon's is the most prominent one you hear but there's someone else there. Pain behind gargled, monotone words, screaming every time a word is muttered. But it's all hidden behind normal words.

Hearing the voice before truly seeing it, that's where the terror starts. Voices from the shadows, those screams following so quietly behind. Something so big moves so quietly, melting with shadows. A broken pot pieced together, only it wasn't just one pot that was broken, and the pieces don't fit smoothly together.

There is no gold there between the cracks, only black tar that shows that pieces do not belong together, that they are fighting to separate.

[critterbitter]

The twins and their starters may have grown slightly taller, but their love of shenanigans have tripled, no, quadrupled in size.

On that note did you know Eelectrik has a glow animation?? Perfect nightlight eel. Absolute gold standard for creature. Click here for the masterlist!

Bonus shitpost under cut ft @birdsaretoddlers’s incredible take.

(plus a fanfic drabble that birds did while we were discussing in chat! Check out their funny writing @birdsaretoddlers) “Lam lam pentttt. Lam.”

“Language. I am not calling them that. This is a civil discussion about the capacity of a 284 Berkshire’s firebox, not a playground argument.”

“Lammm Pent.”

“If you possess my phone I will have to put you in time-out in your ball, and neither of us will like that.”

The argument over a literal online flame war was cut short by the door flying open, one of the hinges breaking off with the force and flying somewhere into the aether, never to be seen again. Or at least, not without a strong magnet.

Emmet stood there, proudly, holding his newly-evolved Eelektrik, his grin a mile wide. Ingo picked his heart up out of his femoral artery, where it had lodged itself, and gently removed Lampent from where she hid, hanging over his shoulder. Emmet stood there, eyes twinkling, clearly ready to perform the coveted Bit. Ingo opened his mouth, got halfway through a word, and his twin took the proffered delight of cutting him off.

“I am Emmet and I discovered something INCREDIBLE. INGO LOOK.”

Ingo looked, because what else was he going to do? He would allow his twin to complete his circus act, it was only proper and polite. Eelektrik trilled with delight. Emmet twirled like the best of Nimbasan runway models, clearly wrestling his eel, cooing platitudes to it as he writhed and squirmed to get it into position.

“Me beautiful slimy baby, my beloved pool noodle, my beeesstt conductor!~” Doing something that could generously be called ‘dislocating his shoulders’, Emmet managed to get his eel flipped up and around his neck. He flopped forwards, bonelessly, tipping his hat and giggling madly. He was grinning harder than normal. Ingo was a little scared.

“But now, Eelektrik can do MORE. OBSERVE.”

He threw his shoulders back, standing up as tall as he could, somehow not throwing himself ass-first onto the floor as the fifty pounds of eel he was currently deadlifting remained stationary over his neck. Emmet’s arms flew upwards and out, rocking back and forth in jazz hands. Eelektrik frilled its fans, made another happy little buzz and-

"Eelektrik boa."

“DRAGONS ALMIGHTY. THE EEL GLOWS.”

There it was, clear as day. Eelektrik flashed it’s spots in natural bioluminescence, blinking like a neon sign. Bright beautiful yellow and clearly charged, Emmet’s hair stood on end, pushing his hat an inch off his head. They blinked in a rhythmic, pulsing manner. It was almost hypnotizing to watch, in a way. Ingo snapped back to reality, realizing his mouth had dropped open and Lampent had ceased questing for his Pokedex. Recognizing Emmet was looking for a response, he threw his arm out in a thumbs-up so fast his arm hurt, snapping his suspender against his neck.

“Brrravo! Ten out of ten! Majestic eel scarf!” He praised, Emmet’s expression only growing further full of himself and his achievement, which was well deserved. Lampent echoed the sentiment, flashing back at Eelektrik in response.

Now that both Pokemon could glow, they’d never have a problem in the caves again!

[ahqkas]

BRUCE WAYNE never thought something as simple as a walk through the park could undo him so completely. he had been passing through on his way to a wayne foundation meeting, a brief moment of peace in his usually packed schedule, when his eyes caught the scene.

a toddler—no more than two, maybe three years old—stumbled through the snow, mittened hands clutching tightly to her father’s pant leg. she was bundled in a too-big scarf and a pink hat, hear head tilted to gaze at the snowflakes around her, her cheeks red from the cold.

he froze, mid-step, completely caught off guard by the wave of baby fever that crashed over him. it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about children before. he already had a house full of them—though they came to him much older, with the weight of trauma already etched into their young faces. but this was different. she was different. he imagined a tiny girl like that in his life, her small hand slipping into his with absolute trust, her laughter filling the empty corners of wayne manor.

by the time he returned home, the manor blanketed in snow, his gloves still clutched in his hands, his thoughts had become a single drumbeat: i want that.

he found you in the library, a fleece blanket draped over your legs, a book in hand as you sat in your favorite chair by the window. the firelight flickered over your face, softening your features, making you look like you belonged in one of the stories you loved so much.

“you’re back early,” you said, voice breaking the stillness. you glanced up from the book and your lips quirked into a smile that stopped him in his tracks. “everything okay?”

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze tracing your features like he was committing them to memory. finally, he crossed the room, shedding his coat as he went, draping it across the back of the chair opposite yours.

“i saw something today,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. bruce knelt before you, one hand resting on the arm of the chair as the other gently took the book from your hands. you let him, brow furrowing slightly as you tilted your head at his actions.

“what did you see?”

“a little girl,” his eyes locking onto yours. “she couldn’t have been more than two. she was holding onto her father’s leg, bundled up in a scarf that practically swallowed her whole. she was laughing.”

his words lingered in the space between the two of you, thick with unspoken meaning. your expression softened as you realized where this was heading, fingers brushing against his hand where it rested on your chair.

“she reminded me of something,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “or maybe she made me realize something. i want that, with you. i want us to have a child—a little girl, a boy, i don’t care. i just . . . want it to be ours.”

your breath hitched in the back of your throat as your cheeks flushed—not just from the fire, but from the intensity of his words, of the way his eyes burned into yours like he could see every part of you—the future and the past. “bruce . . .” you began, voice barely above a whisper, but he leaned closer, cutting off whatever protest or question lingered on your lips.

“it’s all i could think about on the way home,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours, his voice dropping to a husky, intimate tone. “how much i want to see you holding our baby, to watch them grow up with you. to give them everything we didn’t have.”

you swallowed hard at his words, your soft hand sliding up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint stubble there.

“well, it’s a good thing we’re snowed in tonight.”

bruce froze for a moment, then a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. he rose to his full height, pulling you gently to your feet, the book forgotten as it tumbled to the floor.

“is that so?” he asked, his voice like velvet, rough and warm all at once.

you didn’t answer with words, just slipped your hand into his, your gaze steady despite the flush painting your cheeks. your husband pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before guiding you from the library, the firelight casting long, flickering shadows in your wake.

and as snow continued to fall outside, the world quiet and still, the manor felt a little less cold that night.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part four of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you could only lie to your brother for so long...

↬ sfw; fluff & angst; wc: 5.4k; cw: suggestive, partial nudity; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

( masterlist )

The castle was alive with anticipation, the crisp morning air buzzing with excitement of match day. The first quidditch match of the season, Griffindor versus Slytherin, was to take part today. After breakfast, you would join your team on the pitch and -hopefully- win the game. The first game of the season had always been the most nerve wracking to you, but with the new layer of excitement of playing against your secret boyfriend, you were vibrating with anticipation.

As you made your way towards the Great Hall, the sound of distant cheers and chants already echoed from the grounds outside, early fans eager to secure the best seats. Griffindor red and Slytherin green clashed in waves of color as students of either house swarmed towards breakfast. Though you didn't stick out in your quidditch attire that was as scarlet red as the hats, capes and scarfs of the Griffindor fans, the people who noticed you wished you good luck for the match.

Rounding the corner near the staircase, you nearly collided with Theo, who was casually leaning against the stone wall, his broom slung over his shoulder and his emerald scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. You knew he had been waiting for you when your eyes met. After last night, you had been worried your argument would result in a permanent rift between you, but his eyes lit up when they locked with yours.

“Well well,” he drawled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If it isn't Gryffindor’s star chaser. Shouldn't you be off practicing some last-minute heroics?”

You pretended to be annoyed rather than filled to the brim with adoration and rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Funny. I was just about to ask if Slytherin had finally resorted to bribing Madam Hooch. Seems like the only way you’d stand a chance today.”

Glancing around the deserted booth under the staircase, Theo pushed himself off the wall and strode slowly towards you. You uncrossed your arms to take his hand, and there you stood, brooms in one hand, holding onto each other with the second. Finally, the subtle smile reached Theo’s eyes as he played with your fingers. “You’ll be great today.”

“You too,” you smiled with exhilaration and took a step closer. Your eyes darted around the small space nervously, but there was no one to see you. So you stood on your tip toes and pecked Theo’s lips softly. What you hadn't anticipated was Theo jolting and surging at you, chasing your retreating lips until he had them locked in a soft caress of his own. A surprised moan escaped you and Theo chuckled softly into your mouth. One hand held your jaw still as he kissed you senseless, the other trailed down to toy with the hem of your jersey.

Kisses with Theo were always a careful mix of fervent passion on your part and disciplined control on his. It was no different now, as Theo lead the kiss, caressing all the right places, balancing that perfect combination of tender and dominating. You fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer. Suddenly, a cool hand closed around both your wrists, yanking them away and over your hand, making you stumble as your back hit the wall. One of Theo’s hand held your wrists in place over your hand, the other lifted your chin to gain access to your neck.

“Tesoro,” he sighed against your skin, “let me give you a good luck token for the match.” You knew what he meant, and your suspicions were only confirmed when you saw the hungry look in his eyes. You twitched under his heavy gaze and his eyes grew impossibly darker. “Theo… no one can see.”

When he used his index finger to draw a line down your throat towards your collar bone, he left a row of goosebumps in its wake that he took in with great satisfaction. The soft material of your quidditch uniform gave in to his pull as he exposed part of your cleavage. “They won't,” he promised in an impossibly soft voice. “I’ll do it where nobody can see.”

You could barely hear your whispered “okay” over the thundering of your heart beat. The fear of being caught paired with the thrill of anticipation and his dark, hungry eyes culminated in the uncontrollable beating of your heart against your ribcage, as if it wanted to escape from your body, to seek shelter in the meticulous hands of your lover.

Theo dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your cleavage and left a trail of pecks before he found a suitable spot. Biting down on it, he relished in the little gasp it elicited from you. As Theo worked diligently on perfecting the mark, you slipped your hands from his grip and buried them in his dark locks. In response, Theo let out a small groan and lifted his head, tugging up your jersey with a satisfied little smirk. “Now you’re ready.”

During breakfast at the Griffindor table, you kept tugging at your jersey to a point when Hermoine asked wether you were okay. You stocked it up to performance anxiety. When Harry, Ron, Ginny and you left for the quidditch pitch, several people all over the table patted you on the shoulders. Their shouted wishes of luck followed you all the way out of the Great Hall and down the grounds toward the stadium, where you were joined by the rest of the team.

Harry didn't bother with much of a speech, but after yesterday’s brawl, he seemed determined to wipe the smirk off of Malfoy’s face. A notion you couldn't object to. After revising your strategy, the team stepped out onto the pitch, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting. The hollers and booing of a green and red mass of people drowned out any other noise, like the splatter of rain.

The snowfall of the day before had been replaced by a thick rain that made it almost impossible to see farther than a few feet. Not very favorable conditions. You could barely make out Theo within the midst of the Slytherin players. Harry and Malfoy shook hands with particulars nasty scowls on their faces, before you all mounted your brooms and shot up into the rainy mist above. Madam Hooch released the quaffel, Ginny got a hold of it and the game was on.

It was almost impossible to differentiate between friend and foe when your vision was clouded by rain and mist. Your only reconciliation was that the Slytherins weren't any better off than you. It took at least ten minutes for the first goal by Slytherin that had only succeeded because an exasperated Theo had given up on the attempt to pass the Quaffel around as it would be inevitably lost to the mist or a Griffindor player, and did a lucky solo run, completely catching Ron off guard.

After some more failed attempts from both sides, Ginny finally managed to goal for Griffindor. You as well, a few minutes later, because one of Slytherin’s beaters flew into you full force, vision obstructed by the downpour, and Madam Hooch granted a free kick to you. But soon after that, Slytherin had the lead once more. As the game went on, it became increasingly hard to keep track of the score. Though you were pretty sure your team had earned sixty points, you had no idea how many goals Slytherin had. By now you were shaking and clattering your teeth and your hands felt frozen to your broom. If Harry didn't catch the snitch soon, you’d get frostbite.

Nobody flew in formation or followed strategy anymore. When Theo flew past you with the Quaffel, quickly approaching the rings, you took up the chase. You had lost sight of your third chaser for a while now, but you managed to attract Ginny’s attention, who followed you hot on your heels. Seeking cover, you let yourself drop to a few feet under Theo but did not lessen your speed. Waiting until he was only a short distance away from the rings and raised his hand with the Quaffel to dunk it into one of them, you made a sharp turn upwards.

It was risky, but you played on his protective instincts. Theo sensed an approaching figure and lowered his arm. You, on the other hand, shot towards him perpendicularly and caught him off guard. To avoid a collision which he -other than you- would have been able to pull through, Theo turned his broom in a rapid motion. Ginny used the opportunity to knock the Quaffel out of his hands. You caught it, locking eyes with a startled Theo for a split second, and the two of you set off in the direction of the Slytherin rings.

Steering your broom through green and red flashes, you accelerated your speed. Wherever your beaters were, they were doing a fantastic job, as you and Ginny passed through the Slytherins without any bludgers knocking you off your brooms, passing the Quaffel back and forth. When the rings came into sight, you took the lead, shielded your face against the rain to aim and threw the ball. It hit. But another thing hit, too.

WHAM

A sudden pain shot through your body and your hands slipped off your broom. It was so horrible you must have screamed, but your head and senses were numb and unresponsive. You were vaguely aware that the pain originated from your stomach region. That was all, before your body failed you and you could feel yourself falling into darkness.

“Open your eyes, idiota!”

You snapped your eyes open and the first thing you saw was Theo, hovering over you. Just then, you realized he was holding you in his arms and kneeling on the ground of the quidditch pitch. It could have only been a few seconds you blacked out, but judging by the stings and aching all over your body, as well as the fact you were lying beside the stands, you had knocked into the wooden wall of the stands in your fall, where he must’ve caught you. Oh crap. Theo had caught you.

“Get off!” you hushed, scrambling back to your feet even as pain shot through your body at the slightest movement. A particularly nasty ache made you stumble and Theo caught you once more, frowning at you. “Where does it hurt? Where did it hit you?” Oh, right. It must've been a bludger at last. “Can you hear me?” Theo asked and you registered the worry laced into every syllable. Raw, unconcealed fear.

“Y-yeah,” you gritted through clenched teeth and clawed at your side where the bludger had made its impact. It must've been shot from short distance, because rarely had a bludger hit hurt this bad. “Midriff, left side.”

When his hand brushed over the hurting spot, you let out a whimper of agony and Theo quickly retracted it. If it hadn't been for the pain clouding your mind, you’d have teased him for his visible distress. “Where's my broom?” you choked out and Theo looked at you incredulously. “You’re going to Madam Pomphrey, Tesoro. Now.”

“What?” you exclaimed, vaguely aware of voices approaching. You didn't have much time. “No, Theo, I need to play! One of my chasers has taken off, you’ll win! Wait, is that why you’re-”

“Cazzo , Tesoro,” Theo cursed, sending wary glances to the side. “I don't care about winning, I’ll throw the match with you if that's what it takes.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted your name and Theo’s face hardened as Hermoine reached you, looking concerned and rather disheveled. “Are you okay? Madam Pomphrey is on the way.” Obviously under the impression that Theo was harassing you, she gave him a sinister scowl. “What are you doing here, Nott?”

Theo, who’d settled for a mask of indifference once more, let out a mere “tch”, set you down on the grass with a suspicious precariousness, and reached for his broom when-

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” the commentator roared and you breathed out a sigh of relief. About time. “GRIFFINDOR WINS!” announced the speakers and even through the slashing and splashing of the rainfall, your ears were thrumming at the hollers and shouts from the Griffindors.

Though you couldn't see them approaching, soft thuds announced the arrival of your teammates around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Theo walk over to his team where he ran into a furious Malfoy, gesticulating heatedly. “Are you okay?” Ginny asked as she and Harry kneeled down to your level. “That damn bludger,” Harry cursed, still holding the snitch. “That Slytherin beater hit you from a few feet distance, Madam Hooch should’ve given him a reprimand!”

“I’m okay,” you assured them and stood up shakily. Hermoine helped you support your weight. “Great job,” you told your brother, ruffling his unruly hair. “I was beginning to think we’d send an imposter in your place.” Even Harry laughed, though he still looked very disconcerted. “What was that guy Nott doing? Did he hex you?”

Oh, most certainly, yes.

“He caught me,” you said in a neutral voice, as if the mere mention of his name didn't have your stomach do cartwheels. Sceptical expressions surrounded you, but they all shrugged it off- all except Ginny. “I’d have gone after you,” she explained apologetically, “But Nott was shooting down like damn lightning and I didn't want to get in the way of that.”

“Weird guy,” you said in an effort to diffuse Hermoine's suspicious look. Harry stepped forward to support your weight, but you let go of Hermoine to demonstrate your walking ability. “I’m fine, I’m okay, just a little bruised up.”

Indeed, none of the others seemed very eager to concentrate on your injuries. Everyone was in the mood for celebration as they changed out of their quidditch robes, already planning the winners party. As they walked out one after the other, you volunteered for cleaning duties, an unpopular job, especially after a won match. “I’ll be there in ten,” you shouted after your brother and Ron leaving for the castle and shut the door.

With a pained groan, you sat down on one of the benches. You hadn't even changed yet, in fear of what you would find on your stomach. Earlier, Madam Pomphrey had cleared you while muttering about the dangers of Quidditch. She had recommended murtlap essence, and you checked the medical closet for it. You found a bottle of the potion and set it down on the bench. The sound of the pouring rain still pelting the roof of the changing room filled the quiet hair as you reached for the hem of your jersey, wincing as your shoulder protested the movement. You thought you were alone- until a quiet knock on the doorframe behind you made you freeze.

“Do you always take this long after a match, or are you just stalling?”

Theo's voice was low, but it carried a certain edge that hindered the casual tone. As you tugged your jersey down in a haste, you spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was still damp from the rain, the dark locks were clinging to his forehead. The faintests of smiles tugged at his lips, but it was a little grim, matching the somber look in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you repeated the words you’d been echoing for the last half hour. You hoped a convincing smile would ease his nerves, but his gaze only sharpened when your casual shrug made you wince. “Don't lie to me, tesoro,” Theo said softly, drawing closer to you. He came to a halt and you frowned at the pained look in his eyes. “Bell is a maledetto coglione, Voleva ucciderti? Non hai idea di quanto desiderassi farlo cadere dalla scopa!”

Theo seemed to talk himself into a rage, rambling on in Italian as his careful hands brushed over your chin down your arms, inspecting your bruises and cuts. You wouldn't deny that you loved to hear him talk Italian, especially when his quiet voice was brimming with controlled fury. Fiddling with the hem of your jersey, you searched for his eyes but he didn't meet yours. “Theo?” you asked, locking your fingers so he would stop with his inspection. “Don't put Bell in the hospital wing again, yeah?”

Theo glared at you and freed his hand to guide you down onto the bench. “Take off your shirt.” Even though it was a purely practical request, you felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. You froze for a second, then held onto the hem of your jersey and attempted to pull it over your head, but flinched at the pain. Theo helped you, carefully prying it off of you.

Theo’s hands froze the moment the jersey slipped over your head, leaving your skin bare save for the bruises blooming across your ribs and shoulders. His usual sharp retorts or smirking comments were conspicuously absent as his eyes lingered, first on the angry purple marks and then, almost hesitantly, on the soft curve of your body.

He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing your arm lightly as if unsure where to look or how to act. “You’re… very hurt,” he murmured finally, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, but there was a flicker of something else -something unspoken- flickering in his gaze before he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand. He reached for the murtlap serum, grabbing the air at first attempt before pulling himself together and seizing the bottle and a cloth.

No words were exchanged as he started tending to your bruises, first the large one on your midriff that was the color of an angry red. When his soft fingers, dapped in murtlap essence, touched your skin, you took a sharp inhale and breathed rapidly. Theo could have smothered himself for the lingering of his eyes on your chest. He attempted to keep his focus on you and started treating the bruise.

You felt the relief of pain in an instant and sighed. “Thanks, Theo.” A light grunt was all you got in response, but the tender care of his fingers was answer enough. Though the murtlap was cool, his his touch left you uncomfortably warm and you tried not to squirm under his deft fingers.

The topic of intimacy was still a shy topic in your relationship. You knew his prior liaisons had been primarily sexual. Thus, you avoided the topic, seeing as your experience was almost none next to his. In any of your relationships, you had never gone beyond kissing and making out, and didn't know wether Theo even knew you were a virgin, let alone wether he’d want to have sex with you after hearing it. Theo had never initiated anything either, seeming perfectly content with your relationship as it was. But you couldn't deny the occasional hunger, the daydreams, the not so innocent thoughts.

Theo’s voice caught your attention. His brows were furrowed as he worked on your scratches from the fall. “Should’ve kept looking out for bludgers, cara. Stupid gryffindor recklessness.” When you recognized the worry in his voice, you smiled and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He seemed content and locked your fingers. “Shirt goes on again, tesoro.”

The itching when you pulled your shirt over your head was nothing compared to the pain from before. As your eyes appeared over your collar once more, you saw Theo had stood up and was putting the murtlap essence back to its place of origin with a lot more fuzz than the task required. Maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but he seemed to avert his eyes and avoided to look at you.

Before you could contemplate this, Theo had turned around once more and handed you your cloak. “We should get back to our teams before our absence is noticed.” You would have liked to say something to diffuse the light hint of bitterness in his voice, but Theo gave you a calming smile and was out of the door in an instant. Still, the rain brewed up a symphony on the roof of the changing rooms, but your own thoughts sounded too loud for you to notice.

The Gryffindor common room was a cacophony of sound and color, the flickering firelight mingling with enchanted banners that decked the walls in red and gold. Laughter and cheers echoed from every corner, the victorious chants of your teammates nearly drowning out the music. The smell of butterbeer wafted through the room, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of post-match rain that still clung to everyone’s robes.

You smiled faintly as Seamus led an exaggerated reenactment of the game on a table, nearly knocking over a platter of snacks, but the sheer noise of it all pressed against your temples, leaving you torn between wanting to join the celebration and retreating to somewhere quiet. When Seamus started pulling out fireworks, you slipped out of the room through the portrait hole for a quick withdrawal.

Knowing that some of the others, including your friends, had sneaked down to the kitchens to supply the party with more butterbeer and snacks, you took the path down to the dungeons. Though you tread lightly to avoid detection by Filch or Mrs Norris, the sound of your footsteps echoed of the walls as you hurried down the stairs. It was wonderfully quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the Griffindor common room, and you relished in the fresh, cool air that turned more moist the deeper you went.

Just as you were about to turn around a corner, you collided with a hard chest. Your prior speed made you stumble and you fell, closing your eyes and shielding yourself for the impact. It didn't come. Opening your eyes, your were met with the infamous raised eyebrow of Theodore Nott, hovering only inches above you. You could be slapped yourself for the breathless “Hi” that escaped you, but it made his lips curl with cold amusement. “Hello, tesoro, where are you off to in such a haste?”

“Kitchens,” you said sheepishly as he pulled you back up and steadied you on your feet. Theo threw a quick glance around the corridor before he slipped his hands into his pockets and switched to a more relaxed stand. Under his heavy gaze, you played with your fingers, trying not to think about the way he had been looking at you in the changing rooms “I forgot to tell you before, you played good,” Theo complimented you softly.

“Thanks,” you smiled. It was a weird situation. Usually, the two of you only talked like this in secret corridors, abandoned classrooms, locked broom cupboards or the astronomy tower, not out in the open. But it was night, and you supposed it was fine. And even if… You had been contemplating it ever since your argument yesterday. Would it be the end of the world if you just talked to Harry and the others about it? Even if they disapproved, you didn't want Theo to feel like an accessory, and sneaking around was not as fun as you thought.

Theo seemed to sense your thoughts had wandered off elsewhere and stepped towards you until your chests almost touched. When he flicked your forehead, you flinched and swatted his hand away. “Hey!”

“What are you thinking about?” Theo asked in a soft but demanding tone. You sighed. “Nothing.” But Theo was not thrown off the scent so easily. Deliberate hands wandered to your hips as he prepared for the attack, but you were faster. You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down by it and kissed him.

The reaction was immediate. You were pulled flush against his body, his hands roamed under your shirt to your bare back making you shudder. ��Jeez, Nott, your hands are ice cold,” you mumbled between kisses, but Theo pushed you back against the wall and seized your lips, swallowing every sound, every whimper that fell from them eagerly. You noticed that he avoided your bruised spots as his hands trailed over your bare skin and couldn't help the rush of affection that surged through you at his care.

“Someone could see us,” Theo muttered into the kiss, but you merely whimpered needily and buried your hands in his soft curls. “Then they see us.” The answer seemed to spur him on. It was as if it had awakened some primal part of him, tucked away behind his usual composure. The kiss turned messy as your lips clashed into each other without the usual rhyme and reason. When your eyes met his for a split second, you saw the dark hunger swirling inside them and breathed in shakily. It only seemed to spur him on even more as his head dipped back down and you felt his thigh coming up between your legs, eliciting a pathetic little whimper from you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Theo and you surged apart, or rather, you scrambled away and he made sure you didn't trip and fall in your haste to put some space between the two of you. Harry, Ron and Hermoine, as well as some other embarrassed looking griffindors, stood a few feet away from you, having just rounded the corner. Their arms were full of pastries, snacks and bottles of butterbeer and lemonade, safe for Harry's, who seemed to have dropped his load at the sight of you and Theo.

“What's it look like I'm doing?” you asked, chest heaving and hair probably a mess. Glancing at Theo, you saw he had leaned against the wall, watching Harry with sharp eyes. The message was clear. He left it up to you to resolve this, but the second Harry stepped over the line, he was a goner.

Your brother shook his head wildly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening and planned to shake the image out of his memory. He called your name incensedly. “Tell me I didn't just see you snogging Theodore Nott in the dungeons.”

With a quick glance at Theo, you decided it was all in. “Would you rather have me snog him in the astronomy tower?” you asked, a hint of sass creeping into your tone. “Because that's what I've been doing for the last months.” Ron and Hermoine looked at each other incredulously, but Harry looked straight up furious as he kicked the pastries aside to step closer to you. When you saw the look in his eyes and caught Theo's slight movement in the corner of your eye, you suddenly began to worry about an altercation between the two. An altercation that, with all your love for him, Harry had no chances of winning.

Harry had caught Theo’s movement as well and turned to him abruptly. “If you think I’m going to stand by and let this happen, you’ve got another thing coming.” You could've kissed Theo for remaining where he stood without blinking, leaving it up to you to resolve this. “Look, Harry,” you tried the diplomatical route. “Would you just listen to m-”

“Do you even know who he is? What he stands for?” Harry cut you off. You were hit with the sudden realization that the footsteps of multiple people were drawing closer, and indeed, a group of Slytherins that had been awoken by the sudden noise appeared in the hallway next to you, watching the conflict with great interest. “I know perfectly well-” you tried to answer but again, Harry didn't let you finish. “His father is a death eater! What, does that excite you?”

“Excuse me?” you hissed and saw Theo shift slightly. “Are you even listening to yourself right now, Harry?” But he probably wasn't. Your brother looked just about ready to tear down walls and you began to doubt wether you could even reason with him about this. “That's a horrible thing to say,” you shot back, folding your arms over your chest. “And Theo’s not his father.”

“Theo? Oh yes?” Harry said angrily, ignoring Hermoine tugging at his robes in an effort to calm him down. “He's just as bad as the rest of them, I don't know how you could be this naive!”

“Is it impossible for you to even entertain the possibility that I can look out for myself?” You hadn't realized you were shouting now as well. “Would you, just for one second, consider that I have a mind and a life of my own? That I can be trusted to make decisions in my life without you chiming in and questioning them?” Your breathing was labored and you tried to calm down, lowering your voice. “Why can't you accept that this was my choice, and it's a valid one? Why would you think you know Theo better than me? Do you think I can't trust my judgement, that I'm just a love-sick, hysterical, stupid schoolgirl who can't descipher reality and delusion?”

“Maybe you are!” Harry bellowed and you flinched, a sudden wave of hurt crashing down on you.

“You say that again,” a voice, soft and eerily composed, said, “and you’ll regret it.” The words hung gravely in the air as everyone, including the groups of Griffindors and Slytherins, stared at Theo, stunned by the both deliberate and utterly terrifying tone of his voice. But the speechlessness didn't last long.

“After everything we’ve been through,” Harry hissed at you, hurt brimming in his eyes, “this is how you repay me? By sneaking around with him?” His fists were clenched at his sides and he paid no attention to Hermoine's pleas to just leave.

“This isnt about you,” you breathed, aghast at his nerve, “This is about me. For once, this is just about me! God, Harry, why are you being so self-centered? This has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me!” Harry shouted, stepping even closer. “I just don't get how you could be so stupid! You think he cares about you? He’s a Slytherin- he’s probably using you!” His words were hurtful and they stung worse than the bruises from earlier, but Harry wasn't done yet. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Have you thought about that? If you think Theodore Nott is interested in you, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

You knew he didn't mean it that way. But it still hurt you. This assumption that Theo could never like you for you, could never be interested in you apart from the fact that you were Harry Potter’s sister. That there was nothing about you that made you special, or lovable. That you had no idea what you were doing and no agency of your own. Just a stupid little girl fooling around with something she didn't understand. He was wrong. You told it to yourself over and over in your head as you stared at him silently, watching his anger shift into something else. He was wrong, Theo liked you. Right? But what did he like about you? What was there about you?

You hadn't realized you were crying, you only registered it when Theo himself stepped forward. Apart from the most threatening death glare you had ever seen from him, he didn't attack Harry. His attention was fixed on you, as if he was waiting for your command. But you could only stand there, under the eyes of your classmates, as tears ran down your face.

Harry seemed to realize now what he had said and took a step forward, but you took one back and let out a dry laugh. No words came out. Even if you had some to shoot back, defend Theo or stand up for yourself, they wouldn't have made it past the lump in your throat. Swallowing hard, you took another step back, then another, and before you knew it, you were fleeing up the stairs, ignoring the shouts behind you. You didn't know wether they were directed at you, or Harry, or Theo. You only wanted to get away.

taglist: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme @vratune @mariadvorak

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Bambi and Alexia

Christmas never used to be so busy, Alexia thinks to herself as she gets yet another paper cut trying to wrap presents.

It's a wonder that baby Jaume needed all this stuff but Alexia preserves as she wraps yet another stuffed football that everyone seems to be getting him.

You're easy to buy for though and the three model trains Alexia bought are already wrapped and under the tree as well as your new ballet pumps and the cute music box that plays some ballet melody that the woman at the shop said you would love.

"Mami?"

Your head pokes around the door frame, unbound hair swaying slightly with your movement.

Alexia smiles, ignoring the sting of her new paper cut as she extends her arms out for you.

You go into them willingly, settling on her lap.

"What is it, bambi? Is something wrong?"

She tries to rack her brain for everything that could have gone wrong. It's not been long since she picked you up from ballet and you went up to your room to find your train conductor's hat and build a whole new track for some of your older train models.

Alexia tries to think whether any of your shelves looked wobbly or if something could have fallen on you but you don't look injured and you don't seem to be crying either.

"No," You say and Alexia breathes an internal sigh of relief," Just forgot to give something to you."

Alexia hadn't noticed the little sheet of paper in your hands when you first came into her, too wrapped up in the idea that you had somehow gotten injured with something.

"But you can't read it!" You say quickly when Alexia goes to take it," Because the dance teacher said that only Santa's allowed to read it but we need to give it to our mummies so they can send it off to him."

"I won't read it," Alexia lies, pressing a soft kiss to your crown," And I'll send it straight off to Santa."

"Promise?"

"Straight off to Santa," Alexia repeats, adjusting your train conductor hat on your head," Now, why don't you head on upstairs again and I'll grab you when it's snack time?"

"Okay!"

You off up the stairs again and Alexia gently opens your letter to Santa once she hears your bedroom door click closed.

The words haunt Alexia for most of the night. Even as she lays in bed with Olga tucked under her arm and Jaume on the baby monitor on the bedside table.

Alexia slips out of bed, endlessly pacing the length of the house with the only light coming from her open laptop screen.

It's a complete whim that she books them, already knowing you're going to see a version of it over the Christmas period but Alexia just can't help herself.

"Mami?" You say weeks later as Alexia wraps a scarf around your neck," Where are we going?"

"I've got a surprise for you," Alexia says," Santa's spoken to me."

Instantly, your eyes go wide and you start chewing on the inside of the cheek.

"Am I on the naughty list?"

"Oh no," Alexia says quickly, drawing you into her arms," Not at all. You're actually on his nice list and, you know what?"

"What?"

"You're all the way at the top!" Alexia says," And kids all the way at the top get a Christmas gift early!"

"Oh," You say, cheeks going a little pink at the praise," And we're going out?"

"We are."

"And then Olga and Jaume are coming later?"

You glance behind you where Olga is feeding your little brother his dinner.

Alexia shakes her head. "Just us. Santa was very certain that had to be just us two."

"He was? So he did get my letter!"

"He did," Alexia agrees," So it's just going to be me and you tonight, bambi."

The words of your letter are still on Alexia's mind as she walks you into the theatre.

Dear Santa,

I'm sorry if I was a naughty girl this year but for Christmas, can you make sure my Mami doesn't forget me ever again?

Love y/n

"Mami?" You ask when Alexia's hands don't lift up from where they're covering your eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are we there yet?"

"Just one moment. Let me just...Yeah, just turn a little, bambi. That's it. Good girl."

You react just like Alexia had hoped you would - wide eyed in awe as you look around the reception area of the Ballet de Catalunya's performance of the Nutcracker.

You'd already seen a performance with your ballet class but that had been a semi-professional production from the adjoining ballet school for the older pupils.

This was a proper performance though and Alexia gently leads you over to buy some keepsakes for the evening before walking you up into the box seats she'd paid a stupid amount to get on short notice.

"Now," Alexia says as she sits down," I can't seem to remember the story of the Nutcracker. Can my favourite girl in the world explain it to me?"

[misswynters]

Snowy logs

short drabble

featuring. leon s kennedy x pregnant!reader

just fluffy protective leon and that’s all

Leon had always been protective of you, but lately, since finding out you were pregnant, he’d taken it to a new level. Every time you even hinted at stepping outside, he’d insist on doing it for you. And now, with the safe haven up in the snowy mountains of Canada, surrounded by blankets of snow and icy air, he was even more adamant.

Bundled in a thick coat, Leon stood outside, splitting logs in the crisp air. His breath puffed out in soft clouds, and each swing of the axe echoed through the snowy landscape. From the warmth of the cabin, you could see the determined expression on his face. It was a mixture of focus and knowing how he was, genuine worry for you.

After watching him for a few minutes, you couldn’t help but feel the need to be with him. It was freezing outside, but the cabin felt too quiet, and besides, a little fresh air never hurt anyone. With some effort, you wrapped yourself up in your warmest coat, tugging your hat down over your ears and your scarf around your neck. Stepping outside, the cold air bit into your cheeks, but it felt refreshing.

As soon as Leon caught sight of you, he paused mid-swing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he called, dropping the axe immediately. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be inside, staying warm!”

You grinned at his exaggerated concern. “I just came to keep you company,” you said, walking carefully across the snowy ground towards him. “You look like you could use a little break.”

He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Babe, it’s freezing out here, and you’re five months pregnant. You’re not exactly built for chopping wood right now.”

“Maybe I’m not here to chop wood,” you replied, trying to stifle a laugh. “Maybe I just wanted to help a little, hold the logs for you or something.”

Leon’s eyes widened in horror. “Hold the logs? Absolutely not! I don’t need you holding anything out here in this cold.” He came over, gently guiding you back towards the porch. “Your only job right now is staying warm and taking care of yourself. And our baby,” he added with a soft smile, his hand resting protectively on your belly.

You placed your hand over his and looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with affection. “You worry way too much. I’m fine, really. It’s just some snow and fresh air.”

Leon sighed, tucking a loose strand of your hair back under your hat. “Fresh air can be enjoyed from the comfort of the porch,” he replied, but you could see the smile tugging at his lips. “Come on, I’m serious. Let me finish up here, and I’ll be right inside with you. I don’t want you getting sick or slipping out here. You know how clumsy you can get.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, did you just call me clumsy?”

He let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his hands together to warm them. “I’m not saying it’s your fault,” he teased. “But you did manage to trip over that log just last week. And that was indoors.”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully nudged him. “Maybe you should be more careful where you leave things, then, Mr. Kennedy.”

Leon smiled, catching your hand in his as he pulled you closer. “See, this is why you should be inside right now. You’re too adorable out here, and it’s distracting me from my very important log-splitting duties.”

You shook your head but couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re ridiculous. It’s just wood, Leon. It’s not like you’re saving the world this time.”

He tilted his head, giving you a look. “I don’t know…feels like I’m keeping two of my favorite people safe right now. That’s pretty close.”

Your heart melted at that, and you hugged him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you even through your thick coats. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek, lingering for a moment before speaking softly. “Why don’t you go back inside, sit by the fire, and I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Only if you promise to take a break,” you replied, giving him a stern look. “You’ve been at this all morning.”

Leon laughed, his breath warm against your skin. “Alright, deal. I’ll take a break as soon as I finish this stack. You have my word.”

As you walked back up the porch steps, Leon’s voice stopped you. “Wait, hold on,” he called, rushing over to catch you before you went inside. “Here,” he said, wrapping his scarf around your neck on top of your own. “I’ll grab another one for myself, but you keep this.”

You chuckled, adjusting the extra scarf. “Thank you, but now I look like I have three chins.”

He shrugged, grinning. “You look cute, that’s all I care about.”

With that, you went back inside, feeling warm not just from the extra scarf but from Leon’s attentiveness. Settling by the fire, you watched through the window as he got back to work, occasionally glancing at the cabin to make sure you were okay.

When he finally came inside, red-cheeked and breathless from the cold, he brushed the snow off his coat and plopped down next to you, taking his gloves off and warming his hands by the fire. “Alright, happy now?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning against him. “Though I still think you’re going a little overboard with all this protectiveness.”

Leon wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You know, I never thought I’d get to do this,” he said, his voice softening. “Be out here with you, building a life together. I didn’t even think it was possible.”

You placed a hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm. “I know. It still feels surreal sometimes, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, his eyes looking distant for a moment before he looked back at you with that soft, warm gaze you’d come to adore. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

He paused, looking down at your belly, then back up at you. “I’m going to be the best husband and dad I can be. So, that means I might be a little…overprotective.”

You laughed, brushing your hand along his cheek. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” he replied, meeting your gaze intently.

“Let me come outside sometimes. I can’t be cooped up forever,” you said with a mischievous smile.

Leon chuckled, nodding. “Alright, but only if you wear two scarves, five coats, and let me carry you everywhere.”

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, laughing as he pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “I’d look like a snowman!”

“Then I’ll just have to love my adorable snowman,” he murmured, holding you tight, the warmth of the fire and his arms wrapping you up in a blanket of love and safety.

As the snow continued to fall outside and the fire crackled warmly in the hearth, you felt like you were exactly where you belonged. Being wrapped in Leon’s arms, safe, warm, and ready to face life as parents of a baby in the cold outskirts of Canada. Away from off the the ruckus that is the umbrella corp.

taglist: @writingwisterias

banners. @anitalenia

[lyrefromthesea]

HEYYY IIDK IFHOU TAKE REQUEST BUTTTT HOW WOULD THE HASHIRA REACT TO A HYPER ENERGETIC READER WHO IS ONE SECOND DOING 1 THINK THEN THE NEXT A NEW THING LIKE THEY COULD BE PAINTING AND THE NEXT SKY DIVING

I love your writing style hehe

Male pillars x Reader - the art of being too energetic

author's note: i hope this request is to your liking. truthfully, i had trouble writing it at some points.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

where were you now? he swore you had been standing next to him a few moments ago. he looked around the streets, trying to spot you.

did you see a demon and moved forward without him? no, he would've heard it. he looked around the dark streets, not taking long to figure out where you went.

his feet dragged him towards the festival down the street. the area was filled with lamps and people wearing the prettiest kimonos or yukatas.

yet none of them stole his attention away from what mattered. you. you were in the middle of the crowd of dancing people. you spun around in fluid motions, a smile plastered on your face.

if it hadn't been for your uniform, you would've fitted right in. he moved forward without thinking, his hand soon grasping yours.

"now what were you thinking? we've been walking through the empty streets just a few seconds ago!" he said, his lips tugging up into a smile.

"couldn't resist, the music drew me in!" you laughed, twirling around him. he followed, both of you now dancing in sync. you didn't care for the eyes staring at the two of you. "are you mad?"

"you're too flamboyant to be mad at."

Obanai:

Obanai had been sitting on a tree, lazily watching you train. he didn't have anything better to do and you enjoyed his presence. however, when he looked down, you weren't training next to his tree anymore.

he looked to the side, flinching when you sat right next to him. "[name]!" he called out, looking at you surpised. he gave you a questioning look, waiting for your explanation.

"i found this." you answered, showing him a small acorn - or rather the rest of it. he looked at the cupule, you held it up by it's stem.

"and..?" he asked, still confused. it wasn't surprising to see you change your mood so quickly, but he found himself confused every time. especially now when you looked at Kaburamaru.

"and this!" you said, offering the snake to slither onto your arm. Kaburamu listened and Obanai watched in anticipation. the snake trusted you, just like Obanai did.

the cupule you held in hand was carefully placed on Kaburamaru's head, slowly pulling away to not knock it down. you blinked a few times and then looked at Obanai.

"it's a little hat! what do ya think?" you asked enthusiastically.

Obanai's eyes wandered between you and Kaburamaru, then back at you. "it's great. you should find him a scarf too."

"you're right!"

Rengoku:

"little flame? darling?!" he called out your name, desperately trying to find you. he had been sitting in the living room when he noticed the odd smell of smoke.

he had been worried sick, trying to find the source. his eyes widened upon seeing the clouds of smoke leaving your shared kitchen. however, when he ran inside, he was even more confused.

"darling..?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you. he could barely see it through all the fug, but he figured you were standing next to the stove.

when he came closer, he saw you more clearly - you were holding a bucket in your hand. his eyes fixed on the stove, hearing it sizzle quietly. it was wet and still slightly hot. he couldn't make out what had been in the pan, but it was burnt now.

"oh, Kyojuro!" you gasped, looking at the man. you hadn't heard him before. your eyes followed his gaze, your face growing red when you looked at the stove.

"i wanted to cook something, but then i remembered this book from a few years ago. i'm sure i had it somewhere around-" you babbled, stopping when you looked at him again.

you had expected him to be mad for nearly burning the whole house down, but he didn't look angry in the slightest. he took the bucket out of your hands instead, placing it to the side.

"let's clean this up first, we can search for the book later." he simply said, his motivated stance not leaving. you agreed, cleaning the kitchen together.

you only stopped when he suddenly spoke again, leaving you baffled.

"you know, i once burned my family's house down when i was smaller."

Sanemi:

Sanemi looked at you, your eyes staring back into his. his gaze hardened, daring you to move further.

"don't do it." he grumbled, his hands ready to grab you in an instant. if someone would've walked into the room, they would've surely questioned your sanity.

"i'm going to do it." you answered, giving him a mischevious smirk. his eyes narrowed, his body tensing up.

you had found a new hobby a few days ago, which happened to involve him. now he gave you his undivided attention when you were acting strange or gave him a knowing look.

in the blink of an eye you turned around and jumped backwards, Sanemi reacting immediately. he made sure to catch you in his arms, stopping you from falling and hitting the ground.

he let out an annoyed sigh, having caught you. again. he didn't even remember how many times it had been this week. "stop doing that!"

"you know you love it" you chirped, giving him a triumphing smile. he rolled his eyes, letting go of you.

but you were right, he did love it.

Giyuu:

"i want wagashi." you said, tugging at Giyuu's sleeve. normally, your request would've been completely fine, but now he was looking at you in disbelief.

"what?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. you came to a halt next to him, repeating what you've just said. "i want to eat wagashi."

he was at a loss of words. you had asked for daifuku nearly ten minutes ago. he had been walking to your favourite shop with you since then, knowing it would make you the happiest.

"we would have to walk in the opposite direction." he remarked, giving you a questioning stare. you blinked at him a few times, as if you were waiting for his answer.

he would've said no to anyone else, but he was used to your impulsive behavior. he couldn't explain why you made decision the way you did, but he thought of it as refreshing. he sighed, turning around on his feet.

"let's buy you some wagashi."

Gyomei:

"can i move now?" he asked. he had been sitting under the waterfall for about thirty minutes now. you had asked him to paint a picture of the moment, which he found himself agreeing to.

however, he hadn't heard anything from you since over fifteen minutes, making him question what was going on. the cold water of the waterfall hitting his back overshadowed most of the other sounds around him, but he managed to hear you stand up.

"Gyomei, i'm so sorry!" you apologized profusely, running towards the waterfall. he heard the splashs over your body pushing the water around you away, eventually feeling your hand pull on his.

"i completely forget about the painting. there was a cat and-" you stopped when you felt his head turn towards yours. you looked at him, wondering what could've made him forget about your mistake.

"a cat?" he asked, feeling you change the direction you were pulling him. it wasn't your strength to keep attention on one thing, but he couldn't care less.

besides, he shared your fascination over cats.

[devosin]

I have these silly little headcanon of what diasomnia does on the holidays or during them, and I feel like they should be heard by the general public because my thoughts need to be heard.

The hall's are decked out with Christmas items, from red bows, to wreathes and stuff, and LILIA is wearing a Christmas wreath as a scarf because it's a fashion statement, and if you insult it or point it out he'll say you have no taste.

SEBEK is wearing an ugly sweater, that lights up!! And he falls in love with rudolph for some reason because the story reminds him of MALLEUS somehow, and he just cries as he reads a children's book . . . in private of course. Would he scrapbook with the picture book . . maybe.

SILVER, dresses up as Santa Claus because he has white hair and as such everyone agrees he should do it, so there's just a confused as fuck Silver in the middle of the room, on a arm chair, with a white beard on, and he's wearing red and a santa hat, and for some reason he's holding a spatula that has a bell tied to it, and he just wakes up when you walk into the room, shakes his little bell thingy and very confusedly goes, "ho ho ho . . ho?", because he himself has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Also MALLEUS, decorates the room, and instead of angels and shit, he has these weird hybrid gargoyle angels in the room, and they look so wacky, and instead of a star one of those statues are on top of the tree.

And like shitty cardboard cut-outs of all five of your faces as tree ornaments, because I feel like that would be cute, and SEBEK probably hung them up and tied little pretty bows with the ribbon . . he also probably colour coordinated that shit.

commissions / discord server / masterlist

[judeswhore]

a little something based on this

jude could tell you were annoyed the second he locked eyes on you after the match, a grin forming on his lips as he watched you scowl beside his mum, your gaze fixed on the tv screen on the wall which was replaying the few minutes before and after his little injury. he knew you were upset he’d gotten hurt, you always were, even if it was just a small bump or bruise but he knew you’d be feeling worse today given the fact they’d drew blood. despite that, he couldn’t tamp down his amusement, couldn’t hold back his grin because no matter how angry you tried to seem, you looked more adorable than anything.

he gave himself a few seconds to admire you before you smothered him with your concern, felt heat bloom in his tummy as he flicked his gaze over you. the puffer coat you were wearing almost completely drowned you, fell just shy of your ankles and somehow made you seem smaller than normal. you looked more than a little cosy in your pink bobble hat and scarf and jude was hit with the overwhelming urge to wrap himself around you, to snuggle in close and steal some of your warmth. a quick smile replaced your previous frown when his mum spoke, lit up your face and punched the wind from him as he caught the tail end of your soft laugh. the sound had his feet moving before his brain could catch up, suddenly eager to hear it without the distance between you.

you spotted him before he reached you and then the frown was back, brows scrunched together, a half pout already forming on your lips and jude could see the complaints already spinning around in your head. the second he was in front of you he was sliding his hand around the back of your neck, dipping his head to kiss your mouth and silence whatever it was you were about to say. he heard you give a gentle hum of content at the contact and then he was pulling away to hug his mum, grinning brightly when she squeezed her arms around his shoulders. she mumbled her praise into his ear before kissing his cheek and stepping away, waving her phone between them.

“your dad wants me to give him a ring, i’ll meet you two out front in ten.” she told him, flashing you both a smile before making her way towards the exit, phone already rising to her ear. jude could only roll his eyes, knowing fine well his father didn’t want that, his mother simply didn’t want to be around when you started cursing out all the players that wronged him this evening.

“she’s such a liar.” he mumbled, head shaking as he turned back to you, stepped in closer so he could tug playfully at the zip of your coat. “y’look warm. and adorable,” he flicked the bobble on your hat with a smirk. “is this new?”

“you’re hurt.” you stated simply, batting his hand away as you settled your gaze on the little bandage above his eyebrow, that frown taking over your pretty features again. jude could only shrug because the cut wasn’t as bad as it looked when it first happened, so small in fact that he didn’t even need stitches and was back on his feet in minutes. he knew it was a bigger deal to you however.

“babe, i’m fine.” he tried to reassure you but you were barely listening, taking his face between your hands so you could study it, turning it left to right as you trailed soft fingers across his jaw. he let you check him for more injuries in silence and instead fiddled with the scarf around your neck, loosening it slightly because he knew the stress and worry will have had you flustered and warm. the pad of your thumb brushed over the edge of the bandage, traced across his eyebrow before you were sighing softly. you lifted onto your tiptoes so you could press a kiss to his lips before dropping your hands from his face.

“i’m annoyed at you, y’know.”

“what?” jude couldn’t help but huff a laugh, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest and half glared up at him. “what’re you mad at me for? i’m the one that got kicked in the head!”

“exactly! why’re you always the one getting kicked or shoved? why aren’t you ever the one doing the kicking and shoving?” you asked, brows raising challengingly and he spluttered, matched your stance with his own crossed arms.

“so what, you want me to start beating people up on the pitch for you or something?” his sarcastic question made you roll your eyes and click your tongue and jude could only grin in response because it was so utterly ridiculous.

“don’t be an idiot. just..” you tapered off and another slow sigh blew past your lips as your scowl turned back into a soft pout. you let your arms drop from where you’d crossed them and instead moved in closer to jude, wrapped them around his waist and tipped your head back to meet his gaze. “they’re always so rough with you. i hate it.”

“baby,” his voice was soft, low and soothing as he let his hands find your cheeks, palms cupping them gently. he dipped his head and nudged his nose against yours before he was kissing you, slow, lazy drags of his lips across yours as way of a distraction. he held you like that for a few moments, kissed you until you were pliant in his arms, half melted against his body, any previous complaints scattered from your brain. when he finally pulled away he broke out into that cocky grin. “it’s jealousy, isn’t it?”

“hm?” you were confused by the sudden change in subject, still caught up in the taste of his lips and the teasing drag of his tongue. “jealousy?”

“you’re jealous of them. y’know, the other players.” jude’s grin was splitting his face, laughter threatening to bubble over at the dazed look you were wearing. “you’re the only one allowed to man handle me, right? y’don’t like seeing me getting thrown around by someone that’s not you.”

“oh my god.” you grumbled low in your throat and shoved at him, whacked his arm as he broke out in laughter so loud it drew the attention of multiple people in the hallway. he watched the glare fall back into place as you stepped away from him, apparently no longer concerned about his injuries as you landed another punch to his bicep.

“you’re absolutely insufferable, do you know that?”

“awe c’mon, baby, it’s fine. i’ll keep your secret.”

[luveline]

more spencerxpregnant bombshell reader please 😩😩💗 i love it sm

“I can’t believe we’re back here again,” you say, your breath turning to white puffs of fog in the brisk air. “I hate Alaska.”

“I can’t believe we’re so heavily wounded,” Hotch murmurs. 

You raise your brow, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He wears a quarter-zip sweater fastened to the neck, his pale skin grey with the cold. He’s frowning, which isn’t unusual, but you can tell now the difference between his resting expression and true perturbance. 

“Right? When was the last time you had half a team?” you ask. 

“A long time ago.” He thinks on it for a moment before shaking his head, and straightening up. “I’m lucky you could come at all.” 

You hold your baby bump, the distension bigger than ever and your growth showing no signs of stopping. The baby moves often enough to have desensitised you, but anytime they stop you stop yourself and wait again with a racing heart. The baby’s wiggling now right above your ribs, it feels like.

“Is Spencer taking good care of you?” Hotch asks. 

You nudge him mildly. “Worried?” 

“Of course not. Watching you two has…” Hotch, so rarely lost for words, smiles and takes your shoulder into his hand. “I’ve never been happier for someone.” 

“You know I can still make him blush?” you ask with a smug smile. 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” His arm moves across your shoulders and then drops. “If this is getting too much, let me know. You know what’s most important now is your health and wellbeing.” 

“I’m a taken woman, sir.” 

“Enough,” he says, “I can send you home today, if you like.” 

Spencer and Emily come around the corner with two white bags hanging from their elbows. Spencer must catch the tail end of Hotch’s teasing, his mouth pinched with worry that quickly clears upon further investigation of your face. “You okay?” 

“Fine, just teasing.” Spencer steps into your space. “Hello?” 

He takes his scarf from his neck and wraps it around you, one gentle loop at a time. “Your breath is turning to liquid,” —he touches your cheek— “because the air is at dew point. Which means it’s super cold out and you still didn’t bring a scarf or hat.” 

“Imagine me in a bobble hat,” you laugh. “No, thanks.” 

He tucks the ends of the scarf into your coat and the loop of the scarf up over your chin. “You know the baby can feel the cold?” 

“What?” you ask, pulling the scarf up over your nose quickly. 

“Seriously. Not as much as you do,” he adds, sensing your worry, “but she can feel it.” 

You don’t know if the baby’s a she, just Spencer likes to think they are, and you don’t mind enough to correct him. You’ll both love whoever it is you have in the end, of course, and waiting’s half the fun. “You know what else they can feel?” you say. “Hunger.” 

He shows you the straining bag on his arm. “I know, dove,” he says quietly, a rare seriousness, a protectiveness about him that emerges more and more these days about him as he finds your hand. “Let’s go eat, okay? You should’ve had something hours ago.” 

“I felt sick.” 

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He kisses your cheek. 

Spencer leads the charge back the way you came to the hotel. Hotch catches your eyes as you follow and sends you a look that’s equal parts fond, approving, and bemused. 

“I’m sick of walking,” you say. 

“I can’t carry you,” Spencer says. 

“Is it me, or does he actually sound heartbroken?” Emily asks Hotch under her breath. 

Spencer is actually heartbroken. You lean heavily on him so he can feel useful, and so you can finally have a breather. You make it look easy, but being pregnant is very, very hard. 

[nanamiscocksleeve]

I'm very excited to see another event. I loved the last one I got to request. If possible, could I request Zayne for prompt number ten?

Thank you, and please take care of yourself.

Hello there! Glad to see you back on my page. Yeah, I usually try to do Thirsty Weekends twice a month, it's just been a little hard with the holiday season and whatnot.

"It’s a Christmas sale! All clothes in my house are 100% off."

--------

Zayne holds the door open so that you can quickly get into his apartment. The snow was falling heavily outside and you shake your head to dislodge the flakes that have fallen on your cute woolen hat. Zayne stomps his boots on the welcome mat, leaving powder everywhere as he does so. All the Christmas shopping you'd managed to complete was tucked away inside the various bags both of you were holding.

"Thank god we decided to go by car. Can you imagine walking around in all this snow?" You ask ask you remove your coat and mittens. Zayne nods as he undoes his scarf, hanging it on the coatrack by the door.

"The weather app has done it's due diligence. I'll be sure to give it a 5 star rating." You tip toe to brush some snow off his hair.

"I'll get the tea started. Let's leave all the bags on the table." you wander into the kitchen to get the kettle boiling before coming back to the living room to find Zayne seated comfortably on the couch. With the snow outside and the merry holiday decorations inside, it was the the epitome of holiday joy. You settle down next to him, your head nestling on his shoulder as you enjoy the quiet warmth emanating between you two.

"Can you believe all these crazy holiday sales? Most of it was practically a steal!" You open one of the bags and ruffle through it, admiring your spoils.

"Sure, if by 'steal' you mean slightly less overpriced," Zayne says wryly with a hint of a smile on his face. You playfully punch his arm.

"Don't be that way. It's Christmas! It's the spirit of giving that counts." You get off the sofa to check on the kettle and Zayne follows you into the kitchen. As you start adding in the tea leaves, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, his warm breath tickling your ear.

"There's one last sale we are yet to check out," he murmurs and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.

"Oh? What sale is that?" You try to busy your hands with the kettle but his presence was proving to be too much of a distraction. His hands wander along your body sending a rush of excitement down your spine.

"It’s a Christmas sale. All clothes in my house are 100% off." Zayne softly palms your breasts through your sweater as he says this and your breath hitches at the movement. Your hands fumble for the burner and turn it off as Zayne softly sucks the skin on the back of your neck, making you squirm in his embrace.

Turning in his arms, you allow him to trap you between the stove and his body. "When did this sale start?" You ask, daring to look up at him even though you're sure your face is flushed.

"Just now. Is that a problem?" He pushes against you so that his hips lay flush against yours and your hands come up onto his chest. You shake your head no and he grip the backs of your thighs to hoist you up, and your legs wrap around his waist automatically as he carries you to his bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed, undressing you with care, pulling off your sweater followed by your leggings and socks. Meanwhile, you mirror the actions, tugging off his cardigan, smoothing his hair while you unzipped his slacks, palming the bulge that awaited you.

A low groan emanates from his throat as he leans down for a kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours as he grinds his erection against your thigh. Your hands cup his face as you kiss, letting them creep down to the ridge between his shoulder blades as he snaps open the catch of your bra, freeing your aching nipples which instantly perk up under his gaze. His tongue swirls delicately around one of them while he gently tugs on the other one, earning an soft whine of approval from you.

"Looks like this a sale you agree with hmm?" He coos softly at you as he removes your panties and dips his fingers inside your moistening folds. "There we are...perfect..." he slides up until his fingertips find your clit, giving a soft pet that has your hips arching towards him in need. You gaze up at him with hazy eyes that brings a deep sense of satisfaction within him.

"Let it out." He patiently strokes the little bud while his mouth busies itself with your nipples again, suckling in time with his movements on your clit. The combined sensations push you towards the edge and you're dangerously close to faling off it. You strain against him, panting as your core leaks on his sheets then let out a loud mewl as two of his fingers softly push inside you, finding the spongy patch of nerves deep within.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure, your body finally gives in and lets go, your breath tearing from your throat as you orgasm, the sensation rippling through your sensitized body. After ensuring you're thouroughly finished, Zayne licks his fingers clean before aligning himself with your entrance. You whimper in delight as he fills you, then gathers you close as he starts to thrust.

"Now this is what I call a holiday steal."

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely Mae, I hope you're doing well! Could you please write a drabble with poly!jily where they deal with reader who has a social anxiety and after a busy day or a social event or something she's sick of making small talk and just wants to cuddle up with her partners? No worries if not! Love you mwah <3

Thanks for requesting angel! Hope you're doing well too <3

cw: social anxiety/burnout

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 626 words

You come home feeling raw, worn down to nothing. You want to go into a dark, quiet room and never emerge. But there are two people you need to see first. 

“Angel!” James cheers as you come in and take your shoes off. “How was dinner?” 

He’s sitting with Lily on the couch. She looks happy to see you, but when you wordlessly hold your arms out and walk towards them her expression bends with sympathy. 

“Oh.” James extends his arms for you, folding you into a hug. “Not very good, then?” 

“No,” you mumble into his jumper, “I think it went okay. It was just a lot.” 

Lily makes a soft sound of understanding. They both know you were half dreading your plans tonight, a good friend’s birthday dinner where unfortunately she was the only person you’d know there. You spent the whole time sipping your water to avoid talking and trying not to seem awkward when you couldn’t avoid it. 

Lily’s fingers slip underneath your scarf, cool against your neck as she tugs it off gently. “Was everyone nice?” she asks. 

“Yeah. I’m just afraid I embarrassed myself.” Self-conscious tears prickle at the back of your throat. “I can’t think about it anymore, honestly.” 

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’m sure you didn’t embarrass yourself, lovely. Can I see your hand? You’re going to be sweltering in a minute here.” 

You pass her one hand and then the other, allowing her to pull your gloves off for you. 

“I’m sure everyone there loved you,” says James, rubbing your back while Lily pulls your hat from your head. Her nails scratch lightly at your scalp as she combs her fingers through your roots, smoothing out the frizzies it left behind. “Know how I know?” 

Between both of their touches, you’re starting to relax. “How?” 

“Because,” James whispers like it’s a secret, “Lily loves you. That means everyone must. She’s very picky.” 

“What?” your girlfriend exclaims while you laugh into James’ jumper. “I am not.” 

“It took me years, angel,” James tells you. “Years. But she snatched you up in under a fortnight. Given that, I really don’t see how anyone else could possibly resist you.” 

“I am not that picky.” 

“Oh,” says James, “so what you’re saying is, you’d drop either one of us for someone new in ten seconds flat?” 

You turn your head to peek, and Lily’s narrowed her eyes at him. “Careful,” you murmur. “She might do it to prove a point.” 

She lets out a short, appalled laugh. “You two are so awful!”

“Awful enough to be rid of?” James asks, but when she makes to walk away he leans forward and tugs her back onto the couch with you. 

Lily looks happy to be tugged. She lands in a heap next to James, her glare playful as she meets your eyes. “I hope all these jokes at my expense are making you feel better.” 

You know she’s teasing, but you go soft nonetheless, reaching for her hand and intertwining your fingers. “I’m sorry,” you say, earnest. “Love you.” 

Lily melts, and James gives your middle an affectionate squeeze. “I love you too, sweetheart,” she says. “Do you want to talk about dinner?” 

You let your head lay upon James’ shoulder, looking at her sideways. “Not really. I’m too tired.” 

James starts rubbing your back again, fondness emanating from his touch like a pleasant ache. “Is there anything we can do, then?” 

You hum. “This?” 

Lily’s lips tilt in a bemused sort of smile. “Just this?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. You melt against James’ front, your fingers in Lily’s grasp. “This is nice.” 

A warm chuckle rumbles through James’ chest. He presses a kiss to your hair. “I think we can manage that.” 

[novemberheart]

{Overview} Your pack is gone again. You have to go through an emergency alone

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141 x reader, a/b/o dynamics, chapter story, panic attacks, trouble breathing, some emotional angst, a cute golden retriever

Chapter 34 <- Chapter 35 -> Chapter 36

The leaves were starting to change. The hot dry weather you so hated was beginning to shift as well.

“You play this song too much,” Anais whined, reaching for the phone in your hand. You made no move to stop her, rolling your eyes playfully. It was nearly your stop anyways. A gust of air left the bus as it screeched to a halt, you and Anais shooting up out of your seats. Anais took the earbud out of her ear, passing it back to you. You and Anais worked your way down the street, dodging puddles and people with low self awareness. Jane opened the door for the two of you. “Could’ve texted us you were already here. We waited outside your door for ten minutes,” Anais chided, shedding off her scarf and coat. You followed suit.

“Was like three minutes Anais,” you chuckled, patting Jane on the arm. Jane remained silent, a small quirk in her lips as she disappeared into the back again.

“You heard anything from your pack?” Jane called.

“No,” you sighed, flicking the oven dial on. Your pack had been gone for three weeks. You haven't heard from them since they left. It was the longest you’ve gone without speaking to them. You ran your knuckles over the two marks engraved against your skin, your heart thrumming painfully in your chest. “They’re fine though,” you insisted.

“Course they are,” Jane and Anais said in unison.

“I’m going to get started on the frosting,” Anais spoke. “How about you start planning next week's menu. You’re much more creative than we are,” Anais added. Jane nodded her head in agreement.

Ten minutes before the bakery opened a line started to form. You were thankful you had a busy job to keep your mind off of your pack. Yet it wasn’t completely unavoidable. The smell of cinnamon reminded you of Johnny. The leather chairs reminded you of Simon. Anytime someone came in with a hat on it reminded you of Kyle. The sound of coffee brewing reminded you of John.

The work day was nearly over before you knew it.

“I’ll run and get us some sandwiches from down the street,” Anais offered.

“I’ll go with you. You always forget I hate pickles,” Jane huffed. They turned to look, and you offered them a small smile.

“I’ll finish cleaning up. You two go ahead,” you assured with a wave of your hand.

“If you’re sure,”

“Stay out of trouble please,” Anais nearly begged, making you giggle. Your smile dropped as soon as they left, the numbness returning to your body. Your fingers ran over the marks on your neck again. It had become a habit now. It made you feel something. A reminder that you weren't alone. You belonged to a pack. Even if that pack was halfway across the globe. You couldn't say that with complete confidence. For all you knew they were a few cities over on a mission. That would be a tough pill to swallow. Them being so close yet so far.

You huffed as a familiar fever resettled over your skin. That had also become a habit. You dug in your bag for a bottle of fever reducers. You used to hate pills. Now they are the only thing keeping you feeling semi-normal.

“Fever again?” You jumped at the voice behind you. “Sorry,” he apologized, holding his hand up defensively.

“It’s alright Mr. Avery,” you chuckled. He gave you a slightly worried smile, the back of his hand resting against your forehead.

“My daughter gets fevers when she's upset too,” he sighed. “They can be tiring. If you need extra breaks let me know,” he pressed. Your eyes welled up and before you could stop yourself you wrapped your arms around his soft middle.

“I just miss my pack,” you whined. His hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles against your sweater.

“I know, hon,” he sighed sadly. “Can only imagine how much they miss you too,” he added. They better miss you. It wouldn't be fair if you were the only one walking around with a hole in your heart. Mr. Avery rubbed your back til the tears died down, projecting the warm scent of alpha that you so dearly missed. You were lucky he was so understanding.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, working up the courage to pull away. “You should get an award for being the best boss,” you tried to chuckle. His lips quirked.

“As long as you and the girls think I am- that's all I need,” he smiled. ”Lets get some food in you and I’ll drive you girls back to base,” he recommended, already guiding you to one of the plush chairs.

Maybe the smell of leather would do you some good.

Something wasn't right.

Your fever had yet to die down, instead, it spread throughout your whole body. You felt sick, half of your body clinging to the toilet yet nothing could come up. Your vision was spotty, your limbs heavy.

The only thing you could think of was the distance between you and your alphas. That had to be it right? You were going through withdrawals. You trudged your way to Simon's closet, grabbing one of the last items of clothing and holding it to your nose.

It didn't help.

Nothing did.

No amount of scent from your pack was easing the sickness. It was close to early morning now and your eyes had yet to close for more than a second.

You had to get help.

You threw on some scent blockers to cover the smell of sour lemons. You had to be fast. You couldn't be caught wandering around base while it was so dark. You were in no condition to fight back either.

You grabbed Vernie’s leash, attaching it to her collar. You didn't- couldn't go alone. The two of you stayed close to the buildings- for cover and support.

The medical center felt further away than it ever had. Every step felt like a race against the clock. You thought back to your nightmare about Kyle. The feeling of walking yet going nowhere. You had half a mind to scream in frustration.

The lights were blinding, making your already fragile head spin on its axis.

“I need an omega specialist,” you panted. The cold counter felt good against your heated hands. Vernie wormed herself in your grasp, her chilled nose pressing against your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

“I can take you sweetheart,” a soft woman wearing pink scrubs quickly held your arm. Her chocolate eyes scanned up and down nervously, her eyes connected with the receptionist. They spoke to each other without uttering a word. The receptionist quickly getting on the phone. “How long have you been sick, baby?” the nurse asked, leading you down the hall.

“Since my pack left,” you wheezed. Tears were already rolling down your cheek. “It’s really bad tonight,” you explained, using your fists to wipe away the tears Vernie didn't lick away.

“I can tell, baby. I can tell,” she soothed. She led you to a small room, guiding you to an examining chair. “How about I stay with you till the doctor gets here?”

“Please,” you begged.

“How long has your pack been away?” she questioned, pressing a cold towel against your forehead. It just reminded you of Simon, your sobs increasing in volume and intensity.

“I want my pack,” you sobbed, gasping for a breath. You couldn't breathe. No matter how hard you tried it was like the air couldn't reach your lungs.

“Easy,” she tried to soothe. It didn't work. You didn't know her. You needed your pack.

“I want my pack,” you repeated. It was barely a whisper, your words getting caught on a gasp.

You couldn't breathe.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. Your pack wouldn't want anything to happen to you would they?” she continued, her hands resting on your shoulders.

If they didn't want anything to happen to you they would be back by now. They would've called. They would've had Laswell reach out to you. Something. Anything.

Maybe if you passed out that would get their attention. They would have to notify your alphas right? Just the thought made it easier to breathe- unfortunately. It would've been easier to sleep through everything. Wake up to your alphas and betas fussing over you.

Your lungs accepted the newfound air greedily.

“That’s it,” the nurse smiled softly. Her fingers brushed the wet hair out of your face and she guided you back against the seat. You held Vernie to your chest, her heart rate nearly as fast as yours.

A loud knock echoed throughout the room, the door slowly opening to reveal a doctor. He was a tall, slender man. You were only supposed to have female doctors. His eyes softened when they saw you.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Harrelson. I know in your file it says your alphas requested that you have female doctors, but I'm the only omega specialist on duty this morning,” his voice was soft with a beautiful lilt in it. “How do you feel about that?” he asked softly. You didn't care anymore. It wasn't like your pack really cared either. If they did, they would’ve tried to reach out to you.

“I’m fine with that,” you panted.

“Alright then. Let’s figure out what's going on with you, pup.”

You expected the nickname to throw you back into a spiral, yet, your breathing just steadied further.

Should be your alpha speaking those words to you.

Your stomach turned in bitterness.

“Her pack has been gone. Withdrawals, maybe?” the nurse offered. You were thankful for that, breathing being the priority for you. The doctor nodded his head in agreement, his brows furrowing as he looked you over.

“When did your symptoms start to become extreme?” he asked.

“The past few hours,” you explained.

“Can you describe them to me? Your symptoms.”

“Fever- I get those often though, sweating, heaviness in my body, nausea, dizziness, my heart won't slow down,” you rattled.

“Nausea and rapid heartbeats?” he questioned. He stood on his feet, resting his stethoscope in the center of your chest. “Those aren't usual symptoms of pack withdrawals,” he said slowly. “You are beating quite fast. It‘s been like this for how long?”

“The past hour,” you breathed.

“Have you started any new medication lately?”

“Camilcotazine,” you responded. He shook his head again.

“That wouldn't cause this,” he sighed. “Have you had any injections, piercings, or trackers placed into you recently,”

“I have a tracker but it’s been months since that's been put in,” you explained.

“Well, I'd like to run some tests. I think you may have something in your bloodstream. Maybe you accidently got poked by a rusty nail or something. Are you okay with that?” he asked.

Could you say no?

The initial fear had worn off.

Now you were just fatigued and irate. You didn't bother to ask if anyone was contacting your pack.

Would they even be able to get in touch with them?

If they were, what would your pack do?

Would they send someone back to be with you?

Even in your anger you believed they would.

You could imagine Johnny getting on a helicopter now, a mean snarl on his face at the thought of you going through this alone. You could smell the saltiness that would flow from Kyle at the state of you.

You didn't even want to think about your alphas.

You had more faith in your betas coming to your aid than your alphas.

The thought burned you further.

There was a knock on the door.

“Alright,” Dr. Harrelson sighed. He sat on his stool rolling closer to you. “Are you aware of a tracking device in your leg?”

The room went silent.

Dr. Harrelson’s face scrunched at your reaction.

“It’s very old. My guess would be about 7 to 9 years,” he continued. Not that you could hear him clearly. Your heart thrummed in your ears, your hospital gown clinging to you from how much you were sweating.

“I didn't know,” you replied shakily.

“Well it's an absorbable one- meaning after a few years it should've dissolved into your bloodstream. Yours hasn't. Your body is rejecting it,” he explained, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “We’ll need to remove it immediately. It'll be a small incision, one that likely won't even leave a scar. You won't even need to be put under, just some light anesthetic,”

“That's fine,” you responded immediately. You needed it out. Physically and mentally. You weren't in the corrected headspace to even think about who would do such a thing.

“Let's get started then.”

Hi friends! 👋Hope you enjoyed this next chapter and the first Chapter of section 2!!!! Lots of love and I’ll see you in three days for chapter 36! That's crazy!!!🧡

SERIES MASTERLIST

[insidekatmind]

Christmas in New York- Jobe Bellingham

wearning: +18,smut

It was a cold Christmas Eve in New York. The snow slowly fell from the grey sky, covering the streets with a soft white mantle. The colorful and glittering lights adorned every window, and the air was permeated by the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate.

You and Jobe Bellingham walked hand in hand down Fifth Avenue, wrapped up in your heavy coats. He wore an elegant black coat with a grey scarf framing his face, while you were wrapped in a beige coat with a soft wool hat covering your ears. Jobe turned to look at you with a sweet and mischievous smile.

"I can’t believe we’re here together," he said, shaking your hand and approaching you. "New York at Christmas is just like in the movies."

"Yeah," you replied, leaning your head on his shoulder as you kept walking. "But it wouldn’t be the same without you."

He stopped suddenly, holding you by the hand and turning you towards him. His warm hands laid on your cold cheeks.

"Don’t even joke," he muttered, staring at you with his dark eyes full of sweetness. "This Christmas is special only because you are there."

You felt yourself melt like snow under the sun. His words were sincere, and the warmth of his gaze made you forget the bitter cold.

"You’re too sweet, Bellingham," you said, your cheeks turning red, perhaps from the cold or perhaps from the fast-paced beat of your heart.

"And you are too beautiful to be true," he replied, bending over to rub his lips against your. The kiss was slow and gentle, but at the same time full of feeling. The noise of the city around you seemed to disappear for a moment.

"Shall we go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center?" you proposed with a smile when you parted. His lips curled into a complicit smile.

"Only if we can take a picture like those sappy tourists kissing under the tree," joked Jobe, but there was a shadow of sincerity in his voice.

"Deal done," you laughed, and together you headed to the Rockefeller Center.

The crowd was huge, all with their eyes up to the imposing Christmas tree illuminated by thousands of colorful lights. You let yourself be enchanted by the show, shaking Jobe’s hand more strongly.

"It’s beautiful," you whisper, your eyes shining with wonder.

"Not as much as you," he replied, looking at you instead of the tree. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and when you turned towards him, Jobe stared at you with an intensity that left you speechless.

"Let’s stop with the compliments, Bellingham, or I might start to believe it," you tried to joke around to hide your embarrassment, but he shook his head, a clever smile painted on his face.

"Do it. Believe it. Because every word is true." His hands again placed themselves on your cheeks, touching them with their thumbs. "May I kiss you again?" He asked with a sweet expression, but his eyes revealed something deeper.

"Why do you ask again? You have my permanent permission," you whispered, and he chuckled before bending down and kissing you again, this time with more passion. His arms wrapped around you, clinging to his warm chest.

People around you applauded and laughed, but neither of them noticed. You only came off when the breath was short, and Jobe looked at you with a satisfied smile.

"Now we look like those sappy tourists," he said laughing.

"And it’s beautiful," you replied, leaning your head against his chest.

Later that night, you returned to your hotel. The room was warm and welcoming, with a small decorated Christmas tree by the window. Jobe closed the door behind him and stared at you with a look that made you shiver.

"You know what?" he said, slowly approaching. "I think this is the best Christmas of my life."

"Why?" you asked, stepping back, but smiling.

"Because I have everything I want right here in front of me." He took another step forward, until your back touched the edge of the bed. His hands laid on your hips, holding you with a gentle but firm grip. "And I don’t want to lose a second without you."

You felt your heart beat in your chest, and his lips found yours with a sweetish overwhelming. His hands moved slowly along your hips, his fingers drawing imaginary lines on the soft fabric of your dress. You felt every touch like a spark of heat.

"Jobe," you murmured against his lips, but he did not let you finish.

"Yes, love?" he replied in a low, husky voice, kissing your jaw and then your neck, where he knew you were most sensitive.

"Promise me one thing," I said, breathing hard.

"Anything," he answered without hesitation.

"Promise me that every Christmas will be like this," you said, looking for his eyes with yours.

"No, love," he said with a smile that made you miss a heartbeat. "Every Christmas will be even more beautiful."

You smiled and kissed him, and he immediately returned the favor. " I love you doll" said Jobe near your lips and you smiled giving him a kiss to the mold. "I love too"

His dark eyes twinkled as his hands drew you closer, as if he could not bear even a centimeter of distance between you. His lips returned to seek yours, this time with a passion that made you tremble. There was nothing more delicate: the kiss became intense, deep, full of desire. His hands, first resting on your hips, moved with exasperating slowness, tracing the curve of your back, while your fingers intertwined between his hair, drawing him even closer.

The room seemed to fade around you. There was no more city noise or Christmas lights reflecting off the walls. There was only him, the warmth of his body against yours, and the way his lips seemed to explore you with an unstoppable hunger. He kissed you as if he were the first and last time, with an intensity that left you breathless.

His fingers stopped on the edge of your dress, barely touching your skin, and that simple touch made you shudder. You felt his lips detach from yours only for a moment, just the time to look at you with a look that spoke more than a thousand words. "You’re so beautiful," he muttered in a husky voice, his breath irregular as his thumb drew a gentle line on your cheek.

"Jobe..." his name slipped away as a whisper, while he smiled, that smile you knew so well, full of sweetness and desire. He didn’t wait for you to continue: he bent down again, capturing your lips with such intensity that you felt your heart beat wildly. His hands, now more secure, lifted you slightly, making you slide on the bed as his body followed yours perfectly synchronised.

The fabric of his sweater was rough under your hands as you pulled it closer, your bodies seeming to find a way to match perfectly. His kisses fell down your jaw, to your neck, where his lips lingered, leaving you breathless. Each kiss was like a promise, a secret shared between you two.

"I don’t want to stop," he whispered against your skin, his voice low and charged with emotion. His warm breath caressed you, and his words made you smile as you looked at him with eyes full of confidence and desire.

"Don’t stop," you replied, pulling him back towards you, ready to live every second of that moment that seemed only made of magic and warmth.

Jobe looked at you with a new light in his eyes, as if all the control he had tried to maintain until then had vanished. His breath was warm and irregular, his pupils dilated as his eyes fixated in yours. He didn’t say a word, but the way his hands slowly fell down your hips was enough to make you understand what was about to happen.

He leaned towards you, his lips brushed your neck with exasperating delicacy, almost as if he was savoring every inch of skin. Then, without warning, he began to kiss you with more force, more passion. Each kiss was a mix of sweetness and desire. His lips moved firmly against your skin, leaving a trail of heat behind.

His warm breath stopped right at the groove between the neck and shoulder, and at that instant his teeth touched your skin. You were out of breath for a moment, fingers instinctively sank into his chest, feeling the strong and constant beat under the palm of your hand. Your nails drew a slow line along the fabric of his mesh, following the contours of his muscles.

"Jobe..." his name escaped you like a whisper, more like a prayer than a simple call. He just lifted his face, looking at you with a look that sent a jolt down your back.

"Say my name again," he murmured, his voice so low and stinging that it gave you the shivers. Before I could even answer, he attacked your jaw again with slower but incredibly intense kisses. Every time his lips closed on your skin, he left a small pink sign that darkened slowly, unmistakable proof of his presence on you.

"Jobe," you repeated with a whisper, closing your eyes as his lips stopped under your ear, where your breath was faster. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your fingertips drawing slow circles on his chest. You could feel every muscle under the tissue, the solidity of his body against yours.

"So, my love," he muttered, never taking his lips off your skin. "I want to hear it again." His voice was low, full of sweet authority that made you shiver down your back.

His hands slid to your back, pressing you further into him, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Every touch he made was slow but firm, and every kiss on your neck brought with it a jolt of heat. You felt light-headed, like the whole world was a blur except him.

“Jobe…” you whispered again, and the way he groaned against your skin made your legs feel weak.

"I like it when you say my name like that," he confessed, his lips now resting on your shoulder, his teeth pressing lightly, leaving another sign that you knew would stay there for a while. "It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard."

Your heart was beating like crazy, and as your fingers kept stroking his chest, he lifted his face, his dark eyes that were looking for yours with a hunger that left you breathless. "I will not let you go tonight," he said, his voice that was a promise and a sweet threat at the same time.

"Who said I want to go?" you replied with a cheeky smile, letting your eyes gaze upon hers. He smiled slowly, looked down again at your lips and, without hesitation, caught them in a kiss so deep and passionate that the world ceased to exist for you.

Jobe smiled and then he started to strip you off, and you did the same thing with him. He smiled as you were naked under him. " So beautiful baby" he muttered and then kissed your belly and you made little sighs. You moaned and then felt his tongue in your pussy, making it squirt. At first he was mocking you around putting his tongue in and out and you were moaning wanting more.

You raised your hips for more friction and pulled his hair. " Jobe please" you muttered and he smiled and started making out with your pussy as if it was his favorite dessert.

Jobe started licking your pussy and eating it like a hungry man and this made you squirm with pleasure, you moaned his name as a prayer and he was fucking your pussy with his tongue so well that you couldn’t even feel your own pussy anymore.

"continue like this please" you screamed with pleasure and Jobe satisfied you. Your legs were shaking and about to close from too much pleasure. You could feel your high coming, Jobe squeezes your legs to keep them from closing and you keep moaning and screaming as you pulled his hair making him moan into your pussy and this sent the vibrations and made you rub your pussy on his face.

"Let’s go baby don’t close these beautiful legs, I’ve just started" whispered Jobe near your pussy and you cry with pleasure.

It was making you feel so good that you couldn’t even think anymore, you just thought about the pleasure you were feeling. Your eyes were rolling back as you opened your mouth moaning at his name, like a song. You pushed your hips more on his face and tightened his hair to bring it closer to your pussy.

"What a good girl" Jobe muttered as you cum in his face.

He leaves you a kiss on your pussy and then slowly moves away and looks at you and smiles at your face with such a fucked up expression.

You looked at him and moaned as he was hot with your cum on his face and tried to pull it to you to kiss him and he smiled back. When you broke off, you caressed his curls. " the best Christmas of my life" you whispered and he smiled, bringing his lips back to yours with a sweetness that contrasted the urgency of a few minutes before. It was a slow, deep kiss, as if he wanted to savour every moment. His hands went up your back, pressing against him, the heat of your bodies that did not seem to fade.

"I can’t get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, interrupting the kiss just to look into your eyes. His thumbs touched the sides of your face, his gentle and reassuring touch. "No matter how much he has you, it will never be enough."

Your heart lost a beat, his words that settled in your chest like a sweet melody. You looked at him, trying to hide the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips. "You’re a real romantic Jobe Bellingham" you said to him, leaning your forehead against his.

"Just for you," he replied with a half smile, pressing another sweet kiss on your nose, then one on your jaw, and finally back on your lips.

His fingers kept caressing your hips, and the way his thumb drew lazy lines on your skin made you feel a comfortable and familiar warmth. It made you feel safe. Every kiss, every caress, was like saying "you are mine" without needing words. And at that moment, you knew you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else enjoying Christmas.

[hanniebaeee]

Lil' Lix - Christmas Love

Pixie Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing other than lots of fluffy flufff!

Genre: fantasy au!, established relationship, FLUFFFF!

Summary: Winter is here, and it's also Felix's first Christmas with you!

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

a/n: I don't know if I've ever written such a fluffy thing ever 😅 Pixie Felix is a weakness, and this one is very close to my heart... Enjoy!!

Part 1

For someone who once lived in a magical, sunlit glade, winter in a concrete jungle was literally a nightmare for Felix, your pixie lover. He was currently swaddled in a cocoon of blankets, being dramatic as hell.

His cute freckled nose peeked out as he glanced at you, giving a pitiful sniffle.

"Y/N," Felix whined, his voice muffled. "This is it. When I’m gone, will you cry pretty tears for me? Will you make a little shrine to honor our love?”

“Babe, you’re not dying.” You said with a grin. “You’re just melodramatic.”

“No, I’m serious,” he insisted, glaring at you with the last shred of his dignity. “The frost has claimed me. This winter will be my end.”

You sighed, brushing a strand of his golden hair back. He was up in a second, his shimmery wings fluttering as he moved to nestled into your neck. He rubbed his face against your warm skin and you flinched as his cold nose grazed you.

"Felix!"

"You’re so warm," he murmured, his lips brushing against you. "Did you eat a fire crystal as a child? Are you secretly a fire spirit?!"

"No, I’m just not tiny, Lixie," you said, nudging him gently.

Felix huffed, crossing his arms, mumbling, “Lucky you.”

---

Though you joked about this, you knew Felix was genuinely struggling with the cold, and every night his icy little hands and feet snuggled against you, making you jump with the chills.

You had to come up with something (no Barbie clothes didn't help, thank you), so that his threats of “using the last of his magic to ignite himself” could be taken off the scene.

That’s when you had a brilliant idea - knit him some clothes.

You pulled up a beginner’s YouTube tutorial, grabbed some yarn, and got to work. It wasn’t pretty. The first few attempts were disastrous. But then, things got better. You couldn't help but squeal in delight, because it was just that cute!

Felix, perched on a spool of yarn, watched your progress with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at the long needles in your hands with suspicion.

“Making you clothes,” you said, focused on a particularly tricky stitch.

“Wait, you can make clothes?” He tilted his head, a strand of golden hair falling into his freckled face. “Like, you don’t just summon them or something?”

“Baby, have you seen me summon anything?”

Felix tapped his chin. “You've got a point. Carry on, my love.”

---

After a few days of hard work, you held up your creations: tiny sweaters, hats, mittens, socks, and even a scarf. They weren’t perfect - one mitten was slightly bigger than the other, and the beanie did look a little weird - but they were warm and made with love.

“Y/N, these are… these are…” Felix’s voice cracked, and he placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Is this what love feels like?”

“Come here, you drama queen. Let’s try these on.” You laughed, holding up a sweater.

He hovered in front of you, wings fluttering as you slid the sweater over his head (you even made slits for his wings). The snug fabric hugged his tiny frame, and his freckled cheeks glowed pink as you tugged the beanie into place.

“Well?” you asked, sitting back to admire your work.

Felix spun in the air, his hands running over the soft yarn.

“I love it! I love it!! It's so warm!!” Felix sang in happiness. “I'm not cold anymore!!”

“You look like a cozy little marshmallow, Lixie” you teased, and he grinned brightly before flying straight into your face and cupping your cheeks with his tiny hands.

“You did all this for me? Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Like, ever.” he said gazing into your eyes lovingly.

“Anything for you, baby,” you said, his sincerity making your heart swell.

He pressed kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, so many all at once.

“I love you so much. You’re so smart and sexy -”

“And a terrible knitter,”

“No, no. You’re a brilliant knitter. These are perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not allowed to ever leave me.” Felix announced, pressing a soft kiss on your upper lip. “Ever.”

“Wow. Bold.” you said, raising your eyebrows.

“You love me,” Felix said smugly, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I really do.”

You usually put up a fake tree. Easier to manage and all that. But this year, you decided to bring in a real tree, because you wanted Felix to have a really authentic experience. His first ever Christmas. So you go out with your friend Minho and get one.

The tree stood tall in the corner of your living room, its fresh pine scent filling the air.

Fairy lights were strewn across the floor, and the table was piled up with ornaments, tinsel, and glittery decorations. Felix’s eyes glittered with joy as he eyed all the sparkly decorations like they were treasure.

“Wait, so people just… bring a tree inside their house for this holiday?” Felix asked, hovering in front of you with wide, curious eyes. “And decorate it with shiny stuff?”

“Yes,” you said with a laugh, untangling the lights. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

Felix held up a glittery star ornament that was almost as big as he was.

“This is amazing!” he sang, clutching the star to his chest.

“Well, I did pick the sparkliest ones for you,” you teased, glancing over at him. “I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them. This is already my favorite holiday!!”

---

Once the lights were finally untangled, Felix took it upon himself to help string them around the tree. And he also wanted to hang the ornaments (he didn't want to part with the glittery stars and baubles).

He zoomed around the tree, carefully hanging them, occasionally stopping to admire his work.

“Do they have to be evenly spaced?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Well, not really…”

“Great, because I’m putting all the shiny ones in one spot,” he announced, clustering the most glittery ornaments on a single branch.

“Felix, no!”

“But it looks so sparkly!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he held up another ornament. He was glowing - his eyes twinkling under the fairy lights. It was impossible to scold him when he looked so genuinely happy.

When he was finally done, it was time for the tree topper.

“This goes on the very top. Do you want to do the honors?” you asked, handing him the golden star.

He grinned and took the star, clutching it like it was the most precious thing in the world. He flitted up to the top of the tree, and carefully placed the star.

“All done!” he called, before flying back to admire the sparkling tree. “Y/N, this is amazing.”

“I'm so glad you liked it, Lixie.” You said with a smile. “Your first Christmas should be absolutely magical,”

Felix floated back down to you, his tiny hands resting on your cheeks. “You’re magical.”

“Oh, please,” you said, laughing as you blushed under his adoring gaze.

“No, I mean it,” he said softly. “You didn’t have to do all this, but you did. You brought a whole tree into our home just so I could experience this holiday with you. You’re the best, baby.”

You cupped his tiny hands in yours, smiling.

“And you make everything feel magical, Felix. So, I guess we’re even.”

Spending Christmas with Felix had been a truly beautiful experience, because he was in awe of absolutely everything. The food, the hot chocolate (which he demanded every ten minutes, because why not), the snow and obviously, the tree.

And then came the gifts. Felix snuggled closer to your neck in his knitted sweater, vibrating with excitement. His wings fluttered so fast as you reached for the little package you knew he had put under the trees last night.

“Open it, open it!” he chirped, his cheeks glowing.

You smiled, carefully unwrapping the small, neatly tied package. When the paper fell away, you gasped.

Inside was a necklace - a delicate pendant shaped like a heart, intricately carved from what looked like wood but felt so smooth and otherworldly. Within its center, nestled in a cavity of swirling patterns, was a tiny, glimmering stone. When light caught it just right, it shimmered.

“Felix…” Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned to him, wide-eyed. “This is… this is pixie magic, isn’t it?”

Felix looked shy but proud, scratching the back of his head as his wings fluttered nervously.

“Yes,” he admitted softly. “It’s not much - nothing like the magic I could make back home. But I’ve been working on it for a while. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Your heart squeezed. You knew how difficult it was for him to conjure magic in the city, so far from his enchanted home. It drained him and left him fatigued to use his magic. This pendant wasn’t just a gift; it was his love.

“It’s more than perfect,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. You slipped the necklace over your head, the pendant settling against your chest snugly. “Felix, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in, cupping his tiny face in your hands and pressing a soft, lingering kiss on top of his head. Felix’s wings fluttered madly as his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.

“Okay, your turn!” you said, grinning as you placed a larger, carefully wrapped box in front of him.

Felix blinked, his pink cheeks still flushed from your kiss. “For me?”

“Of course. Go on, open it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With his tiny hands, he tore through the wrapping paper, his curiosity growing with every layer he peeled back. When he finally lifted the lid, his reaction was epic.

He froze and his mouth fell open, because inside the box was a miniature garden - a lush, vibrant fairy garden filled with tiny plants.

There were cuttings of honeysuckle, foxglove, thyme, and other herbs and flowers you’d researched and found to be dear to pixies. Patches of soft, rich moss filled the gaps, creating a miniature glade that looked as if it had been plucked straight from Felix’s home in the woods.

Felix’s hands trembled as he reached out to touch the moss.

“This… this is…” His voice broke, and you could see that he was trying to keep tears from falling.

“I know you miss home, Lixie,” you said softly. “I tried to make it as close to it as I could. I thought maybe this could help...till we find a way...”

“You made this?” Felix turned to you, his honey-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Yes, baby,” you said, your heart aching to see the pain in his eyes. “You deserve to feel at home, Felix.”

He let out a shaky laugh, clutching a tiny cutting of honeysuckle to his chest.

“You knit for me. You make me hot chocolate. You let me take over your Christmas tree. And now this?” His wings fluttered wildly again as he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re… you’re perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing softly.

“No, seriously,” Felix insisted, floating up to meet your gaze. “You’re my wife now. That’s it. Decision made. I don’t care what human traditions you have - we’re married.”

You burst out laughing, cupping your hand around him to gently hug his tiny frame. “Oh, we are, aren't we?”

“Yes!” he declared, his freckled cheeks glowing again. “You’re mine. Forever. I’m never letting you go.”

But the best gift of all?

Waking up to the sound of soft singing. It took you a moment to realize the voice was coming from your balcony. Sleepily, you shuffled over and peeked through the glass door, careful not to make a sound.

There he was - Felix, hovering over one of your plants that, its leaves glistening with dew. Felix was holding a tiny little watering can - you’d put it in his garden as you'd made it - and carefully collecting drops of dew from the larger potted plants.

He tilted the can to sprinkle water gently over the moss and flowers in his garden, his movements slow and careful.

“Good morning, honeysuckle,” he sang, brushing a tiny hand over a leaf. “You’re looking lovely today. And you, foxglove -”

His voice was warm and full of love as he spoke, and he sang softly in a language you didn’t recognize. It was so melodic, weaving through the air like a magical breeze.

Your heart clenched at the sight. He was so utterly devoted to his little world, the kind of magic you couldn’t put into words, the kind that made you want to hold him tight and never let go.

With a soft smile, you made your way back to bed, because your heart was full knowing that he was happy. And you drifted off to sleep again feeling completely blessed.

Tags: @velvetmoonlght @moonchild9350

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

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