#don't worry i still have a bush !!

[depravedangelbaby]

i think it's very important for u all to know that i shaved and am v v soft <3

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You Find Out You're A Bet

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/n: before i get messaged about letting them “walk all over the reader” in order for it to have a fluffy ending there needs to be some give and take. 

CHAN:

You weren't even sure why you were at the party in the first place, Chan told you it was just going to be for ten minutes but you'd been wandering around for almost an hour completely alone now. Pulling out your phone, you were contemplating calling a cab when you heard faint voices approaching you in the garden. Curious, you stay hidden behind the tall bushes, not wanting to intrude but unable to move away from them. The voices become clearer, and you recognize them immediately—Minho and Hyunjin, two of Bang Chan's closest friends. Hyunjin was even in your art class.

"I can't believe Chan actually agreed to that bet," Hyunjin says, his tone filled with disbelief. Minho chuckles a little and shakes his head, he never would have expected it to have happened.

"Yeah, who would've thought? But he's pulling it off. YN doesn't suspect a thing." Your heart stops. The blood in your veins turns to ice as you strain to hear more, hoping against hope that you've misunderstood what they were saying. Your stomach felt as though it was going to drop out of your ass.

"Do you think he'll actually go through with it?" Hyunjin asks, looking at Minho with an uneasy look on his face. Chan wasn't known to be mean or malicious and maybe it wasn't a malicious thing they'd set him up to do...In fact, their friend seemed happy around you.

"I don't know. He seemed pretty determined to prove us wrong. But you know how Chan is—always needing to be the best at everything." Minho laughed softly and you felt like the ground had opened up beneath you. A bet. To get with you. Your vision blurs as tears sting your eyes. You can't stand to hear anymore. You step back, accidentally snapping a twig underfoot. The sound is loud in the stillness, and you curse under your breath.

"Did you hear that?" Hyunjin says, and you know you need to leave. Now.

Without thinking, you turn and run, the party forgotten, your heart shattered. You just ran and ran until you found yourself back at your dorms.

How could he? You trusted him. You liked him. You thought he liked you too. The memories of your time together, the laughter, the stolen glances, all feel like cruel jokes now. It wasn't as though it was just a few dates, it was three whole fucking months!

You didn't know how long you'd been sitting in your dorm, wrapped in your misery, but eventually, you heard footsteps approaching before your door opened, you hated that you'd given him a key. You look up to see Bang Chan, his face etched with worry and desperation.

"YN," he calls out softly, hesitating a few feet away as if he's afraid you'll run again, the boys told him what happened and he instantly needed to find you.

"Please, let me explain." You shake your head, standing up, your stomach flipping as you try to speak without crying. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

"There's nothing to explain, Chan. I heard everything. It was all a bet to you. Yn, the big fucking joke," Your voice cracked at the end and Chan took a step closer, his eyes pleading with yours as he shakes his head at you.

"No, it wasn't. It started that way, yes, but it's not like that anymore. I swear." His own voice broke this time as he reached out to take your hands but you snatched them away from his reach.

"How am I supposed to believe you?" you ask, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Everything feels like a lie now." You breathed out. This time Chan closes the distance between you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your arm.

"Because I fell for you, YN. For real. Somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering. You became the only thing that mattered." You search his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, but all you see is the sincerity and pain he'd caused you. You want to believe him, but your heart is still raw, you didn't want him to be able to walk right over you but you'd fallen for him too.

"Give me a chance to make it right," he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that this is real...That how I feel about you isn't some kind of joke and I'm utterly in love with you. I can't lose you over a stupid mistake." You hesitate, the battle between your heart and mind raging on, your mind screaming at you not to be stupid but your heart is beating it, fighting it tooth and nail to get him back.

Finally, you take a shaky breath look at him and nod your head.

"One chance, Chan. But if you hurt me again, we're done." Your voice came out stern as you told him, there was no way you were going to let him take advantage of you in any way. Relief practically washed over his face as he nodded,

"I promise, I won't." Chan looked at you for confirmation before stepping closer, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You whimpered a little before letting yourself melt into him, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his heartbeat against your cheek. It doesn't erase the pain not even close, but it's a start and Chan was going to prove to you every single day how much you meant to him. More than some ever silly bet.

As he holds you, whispering apologies and reassurances, you just close your eyes, enjoying the closeness between you both

MINHO:

Tonight was your birthday party, kind of. You were sharing it with a couple of other people from your class in University and Minho had thrown it for you. It was also to celebrate your anniversary with one another. 

"I'll be right back." You whisper to Minho, quickly kissing his cheek and going to get you both a drink from the kitchen but as you walk you feel someone watching you and it doesn't take long until, Seungmin approaches you, with a look of irritation on his face. 

"Hey, YN, can we talk for a minute?" He grumbles a little and you frown. You and Seungmin had only ever talked in passing whenever you were with Minho and he happened to be around. The two of you weren't the chatting type...with each other at least. You nod, curious about what he had to say to you alone. Without another word, he leads you to a quieter corner of the garden, away from the noise of the party.

"What's up?" you ask, trying to read his expression but it was blank, almost as if he didn't want to give anything away to you. Seungmin crosses his arms, clearly agitated by something.

"Look, you deserve to know something. Minho didn't start dating you because he liked you. It was a bet. He wanted to prove he could make anyone fall for him." The words were so cold coming from his lips and your heart stopped, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut as you shook your head.

"What are you talking about?" He sighs, running a hand through his hair clearly not in the mood for this anymore. 

"It was just a stupid bet between him and the guys. But now, he’s acting all lovey-dovey, and it's like he actually fell for you. It's annoying." Did he sound annoyed at you for it? As if it was your fault, HIS friend had fallen in love.

You feel a wave of emotions crash over you—hurt, anger, disbelief, everything hitting you all at once. Why the fuck he was telling you this now was beyond you.

"Why are you telling me this?" You snap at him,

"Because it's ridiculous," Seungmin says, his tone sharp. 

"He was supposed to prove a point, not fall in love. It's pathetic." he looked you up and down in disgust and you pulled your arms around your body, trying to shield yourself as if his words were actually hitting you physically. You don't bother to wait to hear more you march back into the party, searching for Minho. You find him laughing with some friends, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you. You grab his arm and pull him aside, the anger bubbling up to the surface.

"YN, what's wrong?" he asks, concern flashing in his eyes, his hands holding onto you as you shake your head. Taking in a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady you stared at him. 

"Is it true?" You didn't say anything else and Minho frowned,

"Is what true, baby?" He reached out to touch your face but you moved away from him, glaring at him.

"Did you start dating me because of a bet?" His face pales, and you see the guilt written all over it, his stomach twisting itself into knots.

"Who told you that?" He whispered, not even denying the claim.

"So, it is true," you say, your voice breaking as tears spilt down your cheeks. 

"I can't believe you, Minho. I thought you cared about me." You grumbled, shoving against his shoulders but he didn't even move, he just stayed in place.

"I do care about you," he says desperately, reaching for your hand but you yanked it away from him. 

"It started as a bet, yes, but that changed. I changed. I fell for you, YN. For real. This is fucking real!" He yells at you as he reaches for you once again. But his betrayal was cutting you deep.

"How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to trust you?! This whole time, was any of it real?" You were sobbing by now and people were starting to stare but you didn't care. He steps closer to you, his eyes pleading. 

"Yes, it was real. Every moment we spent together, every laugh, every kiss—it was real. I know I messed up, but please, give me a chance to make it right." His voice was soft as he begged you to let him prove himself to you. You stare into his eyes, searching for the truth, you always thought you could read him easily but now you weren't even sure. 

The hurt is still raw, but beneath it, you see the sincerity and regret written all over his face. 

"How can I trust you again, Minho?" Your voice came out weak and when he reached to take your hand in his, you let him. He stared at you as he smiled, holding your hands tightly.

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious. I love you, YN. I was an idiot to ever make that bet, but I swear, you mean everything to me now." He whispers, one of his hands reaching up and cupping your face in his hands, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. You want to believe him, but the pain is still fresh in your mind. 

"It's going to take time, Minho. I can't just forget about this." You gestured between you but he nodded, laying his forehead against yours,

"I understand," he says softly. 

"I'll wait as long as it takes. Just don't walk away from us...Please" You take a deep breath, the anger starting to ebb away, leaving behind a fragile hope that this would work between you, that there was a future here.

"Okay. But you have to be honest with me. No more lies." He nods, relief flooding his features as he practically yanks you into his chest.

"No more lies. I promise."

CHANGBIN:

Sitting in the middle of your history lecture, you find it increasingly difficult to focus, your new professor had a one-tone voice and you could feel yourself drifting off the longer he spoke. Sighing a little to yourself you reached into your bag for your phone. It had been buzzing non-stop for the last twenty minutes and you wanted to see what was happening. As you pulled it out a flurry of notifications began lighting up the screen. When the professor turns to write on the board, you sneak a glance at your phone, trying to figure out what was happening so much that needed this much attention on the matter.

Your heart sinks as you see a string of messages and missed calls from friends. One message catches your eye: a screenshot from an unknown number. You glanced up to make sure the professor was still busy and you caught the look of some of the girls in your class who were looking at you with pity, smiling weakly as they turned away from you.

Frowning you turned back to your phone to open the message, and your stomach dropped. The screenshot shows a group chat where Changbin discusses a bet with his friends—apparently to prove he could make you fall for him. The date on the message is from several months ago, shortly before you started dating.

Your heart races and a wave of nausea washes over you, your skin starting to sweat as you panicked more and more. You feel eyes on you as you hastily gather your things and leave the classroom, needing to get away from the prying gazes and the oppressive silence. The professor called for you but you didn't even give him a glance as you legged it down the hallway, trying to get away. It felt like all eyes were on you.

As soon as you are alone outside of Changbin's dorm, you dial Changbin's number with trembling fingers. He answers on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful.

"Hey, baby! What's up?" What's up?! How could he even be so fucking calm about this?

"We need to talk. Now," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady. Maybe he didn't know that the photos were going "viral" around the college yet.

"Sure, where are you? I'll come to you." You could hear him moving to get his keys but you sniffled a little.

"I'm outside your dorm," you reply before hanging up, not giving him a chance to say anything else to you.

You pace back and forth, the minutes stretching out painfully. Finally, you see Changbin approaching, a concerned look on his face.

"YN, what's wrong? You look-" You hold up your phone, cutting him off midsentence, showing him the screenshot. "

What is this, Changbin? Did you make a bet about dating me?" You couldn't stop the hurt in your voice as you stared at him. Waiting for him to deny it, to say it was fake. Anything. Just to tell you that the two of you were real despite what that fucking thing said. His eyes widen, and you see the colour drain from his face.

"YN, I can explain—" You cut him off, your voice shaking with anger and hurt.

"Explain what? That our entire relationship is based on a bet? That I've been nothing but a game to you? That I'm the biggest fucking joke to you?!" You cry softly,

"That nothing between us was ever fucking real?" You finish as he shakes his head at you,

"No, it wasn't like that," he says, his voice desperate as he reaches for you.

"It started as a stupid bet, but I swear, I fell for you. For real. You're not a game to me, what I feel for you isn't a game...It isn't fake..."

"Am I supposed to get on my knees and thank you for it? I-I'm not some kind of fucking joke!" You yell at him, gaining the attention of passersby but you didn't give a shit.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" you snap, tears welling up in your eyes. "Everything feels like a lie now." He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out to you as you let him touch you.

"Please, YN, you have to believe me. I was an idiot, and I made a mistake, but my feelings for you are real. I love you." It was the first time he'd ever said those three words to you and yet it felt like a slap to the face rather than something you'd been dying to hear from him.

You turn away, trying to collect your thoughts. The pain is overwhelming, but so is the look of sincerity in his eyes, you hated him and yet you loved him all at the same time.

"Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Everyone saw that screenshot. Everyone knows...People in class were staring at me, looking at me with pity!" You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shook your head,

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I'll tell everyone the truth. I'll make sure they know how much I care about you, how real this is between us." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"This isn't just about everyone else. You broke my trust and my heart, Changbin. I don't know if I can get past that." He looks at you, his eyes filled with regret as he realises just how badly he'd fucked this up between the two of you.

"I understand. But please, give me a chance to prove myself. Let me show you that what we have is real." But you just left him standing there, giving yourself space to think.

Eventually, you went back to him, deciding you wanted to try and make things work between you and it had taken months of hard work from him for you to finally trust him again.

HYUNJIN:

The wedding reception is in full swing, the joyous atmosphere filling the beautifully decorated hall. You smile as you watch your friends and family celebrating with each other, your gaze wandering over to your husband now who was talking to a few of his friends. Your wedding day has been everything you dreamed of and more, it was everything you'd ever wanted since you were a little girl.

As you move through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, you overhear a conversation that stops you in your tracks, your hand resting on the lower back of someone who congratulated you but your mind is on the conversation. 

"I can't believe it all started as a bet. Who would've thought he'd actually fall in love with her and have a wedding like this?" Your heart skipped a beat, and it felt as though someone had just doused you in freezing cold water. You step closer, trying to catch more of the conversation without drawing attention to yourself.

"Yeah, remember how smug he was about it? But now look at him, married and everything," Seungmin laughs and you suddenly feel like the ground has been pulled out from under you. Your wedding day, the happiest day of your life, suddenly feels like a cruel joke between everyone there. Did everyone know it was a bet? How could he have not said anything to you? The two of you had been together for nine years now and he hadn't thought it bring it up once? 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decide you need to confront Hyunjin. Now.

As soon as you'd found him you dragged him away from listening ears and walked toward the toilets, shutting the door and ignoring the wolf-whistles from people who had seen the interaction. You bolted the door shut and Hyunjin smirked,

"Couldn't wait for the wedding night, baby?" He teases, stopping when you turn around to face him.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, noticing the serious look on your face. He was ready to kill whoever had made you this pissed off on your wedding day of all days.

"We need to talk. Now," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Where were you even supposed to start with this? 

"Hyunjin, is it true? Did our relationship start as a bet?" you ask, your voice shaking as you stare at him. The expression on his face was all you needed for him to confirm it was real. His eyes widened in shock, and you see the guilt flash across his face. 

"YN, I can explain—"

"All this time, everything we built, started as a stupid bet?" You whispered, almost as if you were scared someone was going to be listening outside.

"Yes, it started as a bet," he admits, his voice filled with regret. "But it changed, YN. I changed. We've been together for nine years! You think I'd marry you for some cruel joke?" He steps toward you but you take a step back, feeling betrayed.

  "How could you not tell me? How could you let me marry you without knowing the truth?" You stared at him. As if your vows hadn't included that you'd never lie or hide something from one another.

"I was scared," he says softly. "Scared of losing you, scared that you wouldn't believe me if I told you. But my feelings for you are real. They have been for a long time, nine years baby I'd...I can't be without you." Tears fill your eyes as you struggle to process his words.

"How am I supposed to trust you now, Hyunjin? On our wedding day, of all days? You could have told me nine fucking years ago and I would...I would have had time to"

"I know," He whispers, his eyes boring into yours as he shakes his head.

"I know I fucked up. I should have told you a long time ago. But I love you, YN. I love you more than anything. Please, give me a chance to prove that to you. I meant every single thing in my vows...This isn't a joke to me," You needed to believe him and you did. Nine years was a long time for a bet and you knew it was real now but it didn't stop the hurt you were feeling right now. 

"I don't know if I can just forget about this, Hyunjin. It hurts too much." You cry softly and he reaches out, wiping away the tears with a tissue trying not to ruin the makeup you were wearing.

"I understand," he says, his voice breaking. "But please, don't let this ruin what we have. We've built a life together, a future. Don't let a mistake I made years ago take that away from us." You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him. 

"It's going to take time, Hyunjin. I can't just move past this overnight."

"I know," he says, relief flooding his features, holding you in his arms as he whispers. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I promise." He rocks you back and forth slightly as he kisses the top of your head.

JISUNG:

The night was going amazing, you and Jisung were at your favourite restaurant, a cosy little place with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. He told you he wanted to take you back to where your relationship started years ago, in the restaurant where you'd had your first date. He's been acting a bit nervous all night, and you have a feeling something big is about to happen, he'd made sure to let you know to get your nails done too...Jisung wasn't always the secretive guy he pretended to be.

"yn," He smiled as he reached over the table and took your hand. He looks into your eyes, a mixture of love and anxiety in his gaze, slowly he slides out from his chair and drops on one knee in front of you. Your heart racing as you giggled. 

"I have spent every single day loving you for the last four years and I wanted to spend every single day for the rest of our lives doing it the same," He tells you. But just as he starts to speak again, you hear a familiar voice from a nearby table.

"Hey, isn't that Jisung and YN?" You glance over to see Changbin who is staring at you both and you look back at Jisung trying to focus on the proposal but the following words make your heart drop.

"Remember how she was just a bet years ago? And now look, she's about to be his future wife!" His voice was full of amusement and your heart stopped. The words cut through the romantic atmosphere like a knife. You pull your hand away from Jisung's and turn to face Changbin, the shock and hurt evident on your face.

"What?" You whispered, staring at Changbin and then to Jisung who looked panicked as he shook his head. 

"YN, please, let me explain."

You stand up, your emotions boiling over as you knock into the table and knock the glass of wine shattering to the floor gaining more attention to you both. 

"Explain what, Jisung? That our entire relationship started as a joke? That I was nothing but a bet to you?" You shake your head, trying to get away but he reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes. 

"It wasn't like that...O-okay...Yes, it started as a stupid bet, but that was years ago!" You shake your head, tears starting to blur your vision, and people are staring at you both. 

"How could you not tell me? How could you keep this from me all these years?" You whispered at him as he shook his head. His friends told him to tell you years ago when he started falling for you but he thought he could hide it. That if you never found out the way it started it wouldn't matter because you loved each other.

"I was terrified," he admits, his voice breaking as he shook his head. 

"Scared of losing you, terrified you'd never forgive me. But I love you, YN. More than anything." The betrayal felt like a weight on your chest, suffocating you as you shook your head. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

"I need some air." You whispered and walked away. 

You walked and walked until you stopped at a park, holding your arms around yourself and crying softly. It didn't take Jisung to catch up to you, calling your name, but you didn't look at him as your shoulders began shaking with silent sobs.

"YN, please. I never meant to hurt you. The bet was a mistake, a stupid, immature mistake. But my love for you is real. It always has been and it always...will be, baby." You turn to face him, the pain and anger still raw as you stare at him. 

"How am I supposed to believe that, Jisung? After everything?" He knew it wasn't going to be something quick he could move past but he was never going to stop until he proved to you how true this was.

"Because I’ve spent every day since then trying to be the best man I can be for you. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. I was going to propose to you tonight because I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you." You stared into his eyes, trying to decide if this was real or just some extension of the bet but he stared at you, his hurt and guilt clear on his face.

"You broke the trust between us...Everything feels like a lie now." You whisper, allowing yourself to hold onto him as he rubs your back softly,

"This isn't how I wanted this night to go...I fucked this all up, and I will do fucking anything to make you realise that what I feel is real..."

You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, you wanted your life with him. Your life with him was everything you'd been dreaming of. 

"This...This isn't some part of the bet?" You gestured at the box in his hand and he shook his head,

"Never...Ever," He whispered as he looked at you, you nodded and he slowly knelt back down in front of you.

"I will spend every single day making this up to you if you agree to be my wife. I will spend every day, bringing you flowers, making you songs...doing whatever it takes to prove it's real...Will you-" You kissed him before he could even finish asking you and he whined.

"I-Is that a yes?" He panted as you pulled back from one another, you slowly nodded at him.

FELIX:

You and Felix are sitting in your favourite coffee shop, the one where you’ve shared many dates with each other when you started dating a few months back but something felt strange today. Felix seemed different than his usual self around you today and it was starting to worry you a little bit. He was being quieter, and more jittery than normal. You sip your coffee, waiting for him to speak, thinking he would come to you when he was good and ready.

Finally, he takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours but there is guilt and fear written all across his face as he stares at you,

“YN, there’s something I need to tell you.” You set your cup down, your heart beginning to race. Was he going to break up with you? Is that was this was?

“What is it, Lix?” You reached your hands over the table to touch him but he pulled his hands away and looked away from you for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The boys had warned him not to do this, that it wouldn't be good to ruin what you had but he no longer wanted to lie about why your relationship had started. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.

“Our relationship... it didn’t start the way you think it did..." He coughed a little as he cleared his throat,

"It started as a bet.” The words rushed out but you heard every single one of them as your heart sank to the pit of your stomach,

“A bet? What do you mean?” He winces at the hurt in your voice, he'd been trying to brace himself for this for a few weeks now but he hadn't done it enough.

“It was stupid and immature. Some of the guys bet that I couldn’t get you to go on a date with me. At first, it was just about proving them wrong. But YN, it didn’t stay that way. I’ve fallen for you, really fallen for you. That’s why I have to be honest with you now. I couldn't keep lying about why all of this had started.” One minute you'd been so in love with him and now it felt as though someone had ripped the floor out from under you,

“So, this whole time, I was just a game to you?” You whispered, shaking your head at him.

“No,” he says quickly, reaching for your hand again.

“You were never just a game. I know it started that way, but it changed. You changed me. When we went on that first date I knew I was going to fall for you and I made them stop the whole thing. I didn't take their money...” You pull your hand away, standing up trying to get out of the cafe without drawing too much attention to you both.

“How am I supposed to believe that, Felix? How can I trust anything you’ve said?” He stands too in a rush, knocking his cup over but neither of you moves, his eyes stare into yours, pleading with you.

“Because I’m telling you the truth now. I was scared to lose you, but I realized that if I kept this from you, it would be worse. I couldn’t keep lying to you. I love you, YN. That’s real. What I feel for you? It's so real.”

Tears blur your vision as you shake your head, the betrayal cutting deep inside of you as you shook your head, this all felt like a big joke.

“You should have told me sooner. You should have given me the choice...”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do what I can to make this right. Please, don’t walk away from us.” You look at him and bite your lip,

“I need time, Felix. This hurts too much.” You whispered as he nodded at you, watching you walk away from him.

One evening, as you sat alone in your dorm, there was a small knock on the door. Slowly you got up to open it and find Felix standing there, looking vulnerable and hopeful. There was a huge bouquet of flowers, not that you needed any more of them. There were already twenty of them sitting all around your apartment.

“YN, can we talk?” he asks softly. Slowly you stepped aside and let him into the apartment and he sat down watching you closely.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” you say finally. “About us, about everything. I still don’t know if I can fully trust you, but I also know that I love you. I miss you.” Your voice cracked as he jumped up, rushing to your side and took your hand gently.

“I miss you too. I know I messed up, and I’ll spend every day proving to you that my love is real. No more secrets, no more lies.” You told him as you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth. All you see is sincerity and regret.

“It’s going to take time, Felix. A lot of time.” He nodded at you, kissing your hand softly,

“I understand,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll be here, every step of the way. I love you, YN. More than anything.”

SEUNGMIN:

It was a quiet and very lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re curled up on the couch with Seungmin. He’s napping beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, and you’re idly scrolling through his phone, looking for the photos he'd taken of you both last week when you went to the animal sanctuary, you wanted to send them to your mum since she was always asking for photos. As you swipe through his videos, one catches your eye: a familiar group of friends, with Seungmin front and centre.

Curiosity piqued, and you tap on the video wondering what it could have been. The two of you had no secrets from one another, or so you'd thought.

The laughter and rowdy voices of Seungmin and his friends fill the room in the video. You recognize the setting instantly—it’s from a few months ago, just before you and Seungmin started dating. You knew that because it was the same outfit Seungmin had asked you out in, something you'd memorised.

"Alright, boys, here are the rules," Seungmin's voice booms from the video as people cheered around him, you frowned a little.

"The first one to get YN to fall for them wins. No cheating, and you have to actually date her for at least three months. Loser buys drinks for a year." You stared at the screen as if you wished it was some kind of nightmare you were having. But as you realise it was real your heart drops. The phone feels like it’s burning your hand, and you quickly pause the video. Seungmin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, what are you watching?” he asks groggily, yawning a little before you scoff at him.

“Oh you know, just a cute little video of my boyfriend saying I'm a fucking bet,” you spit at him, showing him the screen and restarting to video all over again. His eyes widen in horror as he realizes what you’ve seen.

“YN, listen...I can explain.” He pleaded but you were already standing up, throwing his phone down onto the sofa beside him and trying to gather your shit.

“So, I was just a bet to you? Some kind of game? How long were you going to keep it going?” You laughed dryly. The video said three months but the two of you had been together for almost ten months now. Seungmin scrambles to sit up, panic clear on his face.

“No, it’s not like that. It started as a bet, yes, but that was before I really got to know you. I swear, my feelings for you are real.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? Huh? You sat there and you-” You barely got the words out, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You made me fall for you because of a stupid bet. I thought we had something real, Seungmin.” You grab your things, throwing them into a bag as he follows you around his apartment, blocking you from going into the bedroom,

“We do! We do have something real, baby! This is real!” he insists, standing and reaching out to you, but you move away from his touch and shake your head at him.

“I was an idiot, okay? It was juvenile and wrong, and I regret it every day. But YN, I fell for you. Truly. That’s why I need to be honest with you now.” You step back, the pain of betrayal cutting you like a knife and you shake your head.

"Send me the rest of my shit," You snap before storming out of his apartment and going home.

[X]

It had been a month, a month of pure torture every time you realised you still loved Seungmin despite him lying to you and hiding something huge from you and yet you missed him. Every single day you would get a new delivery of flowers or a teddy bear with a card that explained a reason why Seungmin had fallen in love with you and he was making it incredibly difficult to hate him.

"Seungmin," You breathed finding him at your door one more.

“I’m standing here, telling you the truth...okay,” he says, tears now in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I’m risking everything because I can’t lose you. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you’ll let me.”

You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit and you can see how much he regretted doing this to you.

“It’s going to take time, Seungmin. I can’t just forget about this overnight...But I miss-" You barely had time to finish before he threw himself into your arms and hugged you tightly against him.

JEONGIN:

You’re having dinner at Jeongin’s family home, enjoying a relaxed evening with his parents and younger brother. They'd invited you over since you were Jeongin's first-ever real girlfriend and they wanted to meet the girl who had stolen his heart. The atmosphere is warm and lively, and it felt so easy to fit in with their banter. You feel completely at ease, having grown close to Jeongin's family over the months you’ve been dating. It would have been a year next month.

As you help clear the table after dinner, his younger brother suddenly speaks up,  

“Hey, YN, what did you and Jeongin do with the money?”

"What money?" You laughed softly wondering what he was talking about, behind you Jeongin had paled dramatically.

"From the bet...The one he made to ask you out." his tone was so casual but his words were like a dagger to your heart.

The room falls silent. You freeze, the plates in your hands feeling like they weigh a ton and it took everything inside of you not to drop them on the floor. Slowly you turn to look at Jeongin, who is pale and wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard by the fact that his brother had bought it up.

“What's he talking about?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin's baby bother, oblivious to the tension he’s caused, continues,

“Yeah, Jeongin and his friends bet that he couldn’t get you to go to some party with him. It was just a joke, but I guess it worked out between you both, right?” You feel like the ground has collapsed beneath you. The warmth and comfort of the evening vanished, replaced by a cold, hard betrayal. You look at Jeongin, hoping for some kind of denial, but he just stares at you, guilt and panic written all over his face.

"yn..." He whispers but you place the plates down, shaking your head and heading out of the apartment needing some time to think clearly but it wasn't going to happen as Jeongin chased after you.

“YN, please, let me explain.” He begged but you stepped back, shaking your head. “Not here. We’ll talk about this at home.”

[X]

When Jeongin finally joined you back at home it was like the air was thick with tension and you stared at him,

“So, it was all a bet? Our entire relationship started as some kind of joke?” you demand, tears welling up in your eyes. Jeongin looks desperate, his hands trembling as he tries to reach for you. 

“Yes, it started as a bet. But YN, it was a stupid, immature mistake. I never meant for it to go this far.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” you shout, pulling away from him. 

“I trusted you, Jeongin! I thought what we had was real.” You yelled at him and he shook his head at you,

“It is real,” he insists, his voice breaking. “I fell in love with you, truly. That’s why I never told you. I was scared of losing you. You mean everything to me, YN.” He pleaded with you.

"I never would have taken you to meet my family if I didn't love you. I wanted you to see them, to see the family that would one day be yours." You desperately wanted to believe him but everything was still weighing down on your chest. 

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? How do I know this isn’t just another part of the bet?”

“Because I’m here, telling you the truth,” he says, tears streaming down his face. 

"Because I'm hopelessly and dramatically in love with you. I would fly a plane and write it in the sky if I could! In fact! I'll hire someone to do it, I'll....I'll do anything, please, yn." He held your hands in his and you started at him, everything still so fresh.

"Innie..."

“I know, Yn, I fucked up but please...” he whispers, stepping closer cautiously. 

“I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to deem me worthy of your forgiveness. I’ll prove to you that my love is real. No more lies, no more secrets.” You nod slowly, the anger and pain slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, everything was real between you and you could tell that from his family but it didn't make it easy. 

“Okay. But you have to be honest with me from now on. No more lies, ever.”

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[nightingale-prompts]

Babying Batboy

First |Previous|Next

"He's all yours Kori!" Dick said holding up the Batboy burrito.

Danny chirped in distress as Starfire picked him up and swung him around in her arms. "You are much smaller than I thought. So little and cute!"

"Let me see, I wanna see his wings!" Beastboy said rushing over to get a look.

"Nightwing, what's that bag for?" Raven asked Dick joining in.

"It's Batboy's diaper bag." As he said this Danny's eyes snapped in his direction with murder in them, daring Dick to even try putting a diaper on him.

"Æah!" Danny babbled angrily.

"Don't worry he is housebroken." He laughed. "I put his supplies inside. His blanket, his bottles, chew toys, and this set of superhero themed pacifiers. You should give him one now. He gets fussy."

Danny turned red with embarrassment. Toddler-sized or not he was not going to be treated like a baby, at least not in front of the Titans.

"Aww, these are so cute. I've never really understood the use of these things since they weren't needed on my plant but i heart human babies need these." Kori laughed picking out the purple and black Raven themed pacifier and pushing it right into Danny's face.

Danny turned his head to avoid it.

"Looks like the little man doesn't want that one." Cyborg laughed picking up the green and purple Beastboy pacifier instead.

Danny turned his head the other way only to have the red and green Robin pacifier lodged in him mouth.

"I was right, he wanted one that matches his dad." Raven said.

"It's still hard to believe you had a kid," Cyborg said to Nightwing.

"I know, I thought my figure would never recover." Nightwing joked.

The group settled in the living room. Danny was still trapped in Starfire's lap, angrily chewing holes in the pacifier. If Dick pulled out baby food Danny would bite him.

"You know he has deformed wings, right?" Gar tried to sound tactful as he pulled one of Danny's wings to full splay. "His wings are only connected to his back muscles and not his chest. They would need more muscle, bone and wing span to fly. Not to mention the base sits so weirdly at his spine. Poor kid."

Danny hiccuped and tears welled up in his eyes.

One of the drawbacks of shifting is that it requires a shift in your mental state. Cravings, behaviors, and emotions change to match. Currently, the bat and toddler parts are overwriting his sensible older brain.

Right now his feelings were hurt because he worked so hard to make his wing and trained so hard to fly.

"Wehh," Danny whined.

"Gar! You know he might understand you!" Kori scolded him as he hugged Danny close to her chest and patted his back.

"Let me get him." Dick said leaning over to take Danny from Starfire only to have Danny smack his hand because this was all his fault this happened.

Danny pouted leaning into Kori.

"Guys Hex High is one!" Cyborg said calling everyone to the TV.

The other Titans scrambled to get a good seat to watch their favorite show.

Danny immediately perked up to watch.

This episode was a rerun. Nicky the android was debating who to ask to the dance. Rosetta Ferns the bush nymph or Alaska North the Yeti. Nicky doesn't know that Alaska was already going with her ex-boyfriend Finley Reef to see if they can make up and get back together.

"Alaska is too good for either of them and Rosetta deserves better than to be a second choice." Gar sneered.

"Finley was always taking advantage of Alaska's sheltered past to get her to do what he wanted. Remember when he told her that no one would eat the Gundruk she made for the potluck because he thought it was gross." Starfire chipped in.

Danny nodded along he fully agreed. Alaska was his favorite.

Dick hadn't actually watched the show but now he was stuck in the middle of the marathon and he finally understood why everyone loved this show.

Raven was actually the biggest fan and loved Whitney Wisteria the Witch.

Danny had successfully chewed through the pacifier only to get a bottle of juice instead because Kori thought he was hungry.

[heartthrobin]

all's fair in love and war (2)

oliver wood x female!reader

wc: 7.87k

warnings: enemies to lovers, still so damn much pining, set in poa, timeline is a bit wonky, limited use of y/n, archie being my fav oc, cheese fest

an: literally fell asleep on my laptop last night editing this, i was so exhausted from school so i’m sorry it’s late !!! but i had the most fun in the world writing this and i hope everyone enjoys :)) don't forget to comment and repost your favourite writers

summary: Oliver is still impossibly miserable, maybe more uncooperative than before, except now when you look at him: you can't think of much else beyond how sweet his lips tasted.

part one

You can’t sleep.

You're not sure you'll find sleep ever again.

“I knew it, I knew it—“ Cherry had bounced the whole way to your dormitory, howling into your ear. “I knew it!”

The image of Oliver’s fluttering eyes swum around your brain as you blinked into the darkness of the poster bed. The taste of his tongue and his words still right against your lips.

It was a riddle of a calibre that you can’t seem to detangle. More than anything, you try to remember how strong has he tasted of Firewhisky - was he so drunk to really dismiss it to nothing at all?

You lingered on it all weekend.

Cherry didn’t help at all — he’s been in love with you forever, that’s literally so obvious — and Enzo even less so once he’d been filled in: Oliver doesn’t seem a bloke who let’s alcohol make his decisions for him, something about Scottish genetics I think.

The interaction plagued you: digging a wide hole in the base of your stomach. You mourned the thought that you may never have the opportunity to kiss those soft lips again, more than anything: preparing yourself for the feud between yourselves to worsen.

There’s barely enough time to make sense of your situation before you’re racing down over the grassy hills of the grounds, bag swinging violently over your shoulder and extraordinarily late for your Herbology lesson in the greenhouse.

Your morning alarm had rung right into one ear and out the other, a product of the tossing and turning you’d been doing for the last two nights.

When you swing the greenhouse door open, panting and face flush from the beating sun, the whole room turns to you. Sprout pauses where her hands are flailing in explanation.

“Sorry I’m late professor,” you wheeze, readjusting your strap over your shoulder.

Cherry is smirking at you from her bench, sidled up with Jane Emmet.

It hadn’t escaped you that you’d be sharing the lesson with the Gryffindors, but you’d precious little time to worry about it in the five minutes you had to pull a robe over your head and stick a toothbrush into your mouth.

Your eyes are purposeful in not looking over the room. Scared to catch the wrong eyes.

“Not a problem peach, we’re just repotting some Fire-Seed Bushes.” She brings a stubby hand to her chin, “uhm … well, Mr Kumar there in the corner doesn’t have a partner. Go join him by his pots.”

Archie has a lopsided smile on his face when you approach, a thick black curl drooping over his left eye.

“Hey.” He nudges gently.

You set your bag down and grab a pair of gloves, chuckling. “Hey Archie.”

The soil is warm when you stick your fingers into the dirt, shifting it gently enough not to mess over the edge of the bucket. There’s a Fire-Seed Bush sitting tentatively at the end of the bench, spitting sparks and emitting smoke.

“So …” Archie speaks first, the back of his hand bumping yours between the black soil. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a veiled question, a poorly veiled one at that. The question draws a laugh from the base of your stomach.

You shrug, adamant on missing the point. “It was alright, I guess. How about yours?”

He shrugs right back. “Wasn’t the greatest. Penelope Clearwater rejected me for Percy Weasley.”

You don't mean to, you really don't, but it draws another bout of laughter out of you - you clap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry—“

“No, I get it. Percy bloody Weasley?” His brow is creased, dirt-stained hands rising messily from the soil to swipe at a fallen piece of hair in his face. “Dead sure that bloke's own mother can't say he’s handsome. I’m better looking than him, surely?”

There’s the hanging insinuation that it was rhetorical, but you reply anyways: “you’re definitely more handsome than Percy Weasley, Archie.”

His head cocks down at you, stained paws finding his waist and pressing black fingerprints into the red jumper. “You really think so?”

“Without a doubt.”

Archie smiles, bumping your side against his. You think he might be blushing. “You’re very charming. I understand what Oliver sees in you.”

You jolt involuntarily, spilling some black soil over the edge of the pot.

Swiping at the mess lazily, you play the comment off with another crumbly chuckle: hoping it convinces him more than it does yourself. “Oliver sees in me what a bull sees in a red cape.”

Archie’s reaching timidly for the Fire-Seed Bush, lifting it off the counter and holding the dangerous botanical at arm’s length. “Not true. The boy’s half in love with you.”

This conversation is getting awfully uncomfortable awfully quickly. It picks at your curiosity nonetheless.

“He said that?”

He’s quick to shake off the question, eyes still trained on setting the roots of the bush into the gap in the soil. “Oliver doesn’t have to say anything. He spends practically every fucking mealtime mooning over at your table, and he talks about you way more than necessary—“

“That’s just because I work on his nerves. Oliver doesn’t love me, he barely tolerates me.”

The boy turns on you, confusion set in his brow. “Why is this news? Last I saw you, your tongue was halfway into his stomach.”

Zachariah Smith and his Gryffindor partner look up at that. Your face goes hot all over - Archie doesn’t seem to notice.

“We were drunk.” You say softly, eyes stuck on a loose leaf crackling against the wooden counter.

There’s a special kind of fear that's crawling into your heart where you stand. The fear of putting too much faith into the words of Archie Kumar.

That it’s an elaborate ruse. A set-up, canons of confetti and a banner screaming “you’ve been fooled!” if you were to indulge his words. The danger of allowing your mind to drift too far off into the possibilities of a world wherein Oliver Wood doesn’t hate you - at least not as much as he lets on.

Archie looks at you out the side of his eye, you can feel it, but says nothing. He hands you a miniature yellow-handled spade.

Instead you fill the space. "I heard Isla Flynn has a crush on you."

He perks: "really?"

Across the room, Oliver is bumping elbows with Poppy Davis.

"Ow!"

A loose spark has evidently landed on her exposed arm. The sparks that Oliver was supposed to be watching for, the ones that he is intent on ignoring with the constant glancing back over his shoulder to where you and his best mate are in the corner of the room fucking giggling at each other like toddlers with a box of matches.

“Oliver — can you just focus for five seconds!” Poppy isn’t impressed.

Oliver isn’t either, with the situation as a whole. The pads of his fingers are blistered from the repotting of the bush and Poppy’s careless bumps and his general indifference to the task at hand.

It eats at his brain. What are you guys talking about? Is it about him?

You laugh again and it’s loud enough that it draws his shoulders all the way taut. There’s another snap of a spark and Oliver feels where it lands at his wrist, but he doesn’t react.

“Just pass me the bloody spade.” He grumbles.

-

The lesson passes more slowly than Oliver could swim shoulder-deep through molasses.

It feels like years later when he tosses his gloves into the box with the rest, when the class shuffles to return tools and begin slinging half-open bags over their shoulders.

Oliver doesn’t think he’s ever packed up faster - Poppy is still scowling at him, he doesn’t care - before he’s knocking through yellow and red tied students to find Archie’s head of curly black hair.

“Hey!” He catches him by the wrist, tugging on it like a dog with a bone. Archie jumps, eyes winding down to find his friend. “What did she say?”

You’re far ahead, Oliver can make out the back of your head: hips bumping with Cherry’s up the hill towards the castle.

Archie grins. “She said Isla Flynn has a crush on me.”

Oliver groans, “Not about that, you prat. About— wait, really?”

"Yeah!" He hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. "Can you believe it? She's got that hot Irish accent and everything."

Oliver nods, "Yeah ... yeah. Good on you, mate."

He's trying desperately not to steal this moment from his best friend, but he's fucking itching to know what else you and Archie had been giggling about.

"Did she ... say anything else?" He presses, more gently than his character usually allows. "Like about me?"

Archie shrugs without looking down. "I asked her, but she seemed tense about the whole thing."

"Tense?"

"Yeah, she said something about a bull and a cape, and went like all quiet when I told her you like her--"

At that, Oliver's stomach leaps up into his throat. He grabs his best friend by the arm, jolting him to a short stop. Some Hufflepuff bumps into their halted figures, grumbling before shuffling around them.

"You told her what?" His eyes flare erratically.

Archie shrugs, an innocuously confused look painting his features. "Well I said Oliver's half in love with you, or something like that and she looked all confused about it--"

Oliver's grip on his friend's wrist tightened to a degree that a ring was sure to form on his dark skin. "You fucking pinhead! You told her I liked her?"

Pulling his arm violently from his grip, Archie has the nerve to look affronted. "You don't?"

The morning sun shining over Oliver's head feels like it's growing hotter by the second, there's a dribble of sweat running down his spine.

"That's -- that's not the point. Even if I do, which I'm not saying is the case, she doesn't need to know that."

"Were you two obliviated in your sleep last night?" Archie's eyebrows are pressed down against his eyes, slouching down to meet his friend's face. "I caught you two making out like the world was ending less than three days ago! Surely she has to figure that you feeling something for her, she's not stupid."

Oliver struggles between his thoughts, worse around his words. "That was ... we'd been drinking. For all I know, she only kissed me back cause she was trollied off Dragon-Barrell--"

"She said that, too."

Eyeing him, Oliver's hands find his hips. "Said what, exactly?"

"That you were drunk, I mentioned the kiss and she said we were drunk."

A sensation he can only identify as closest to guilt seeps up into Oliver's chest from his stomach. "She thinks I kissed her just cause I was drunk?"

Archie's hand finds Oliver's shoulder. "You should probably talk to her, mate."

He sighs, eyes drifting over the silhouette of the castle in the distance. He shakes his head like it'll rattle the plaguing thoughts loose. "We're gonna be late for Transfig."

-

"I mean, Archie is his best friend." Cherry is trying to rationalise the whole story. "I don't see why he'd lie about it?"

You shake your head, knocking shoulders with a Ravenclaw girl trying to pass through the corridor. "I'm not entertaining it, Cherry."

"Come on," she sighs, practically skipping to keep up with the furious pace you've set. "Would it be so terrible if he likes you?"

"Yes." You don't look at her.

The redhead's eye-roll is practically audible, "Let me rephrase, would it be so terrible if he likes you back?"

You meet her eyes for the first time since you'd entered the corridor.

She sighs, "we're gonna see him in Muggle Studies in five minutes. I think you should say something."

"Forget I said anything, Cherry." Heat flares at your neck again, prompted by the embarrassment of even imagining how such a conversation might go.

The rest of the walk is quiet, but you feel Cherry's gaze warming the side of your face.

Burbage's classroom is over-populated with Gryffindors by the time you drop your bag against the marbled floor beside your desk. In the corner of your eye, your brain has already fixated on Oliver's silhouette leaned against the edge of his own desk. You flush hot all over again, as if your thoughts were transcribing into subtitles and floating above your head for the whole class to read.

The click of Burbage's heels prompt the lingering students to find their seats, "Please take out your copies of Muggle Wars: Cause and Effect. We left off on page eighty-seven--"

You suddenly regret snapping at Cherry. Wishing for the comfort of her presence, your eyes glazing over where she's perched in the first row of desks closest to the chalkboard.

Unusually, the class trickles on without disruption. There's a few glances over at your direction, like everyone is waiting for another outburst from the grade's most volatile duo. They're sure to be let down, you're adamant to not even breathe in the direction of Wood.

Burbage comments on it, too, nearly ten minutes from the bell.

"It's suspiciously quiet in your corner today, captains." she looks down through her fingerprint-smudged frames, brushing over you and then Wood three seats away. "Something the matter?"

You shrug, refusing to acknowledge the boy. He seems to be doing the same: completely unfairly, the thought that he wouldn't look at you made the hair on your arms stand straight. "We can start up if you'd like, professor?"

Her face contorts into that irritated look that you'd grown accustomed to when Professor Burbage addresses you. "You're flirting dangerously with another session of detention, miss."

"She's just answering your question, professor."

Nobody in the class seemed more surprised than Burbage, although that in itself was a feat. The two Gryffindor boys in the row ahead of you swivel all the way around in their seats to look at Oliver, who'd just spoken.

You fight the twitching urge to look at him.

"Detention for two, it seems. I'll be seeing you both Friday afternoon."

A calm air settles again over the class, as if order had been restored. You and Wood had lost the interest of the room and students shift back to the board where WHAT IS A PRIME MINISTER? is sprawled across it in chicken-scratch handwriting.

Sighing, your eyes find the clock against the wall. Eight minutes left.

You pick at the end of your quill irritably: electing to dip it into the ink at the edge of the desk and entertain yourself quietly by drawing a miniature snowman at the corner of your page, trying not to think about another Friday afternoon in too close of a proximity to Oliver Wood. There's a soft whir, barely audible if you weren't so focused on outlining pebble eyes, and a tiny paper-airplane whizzes quietly from under your desk: landing squarely on the nose-less head of your snowman.

Fear prickles at you. You don't look up for the source, lest a suspicious sideways glance earns you another weekend with the party-animal Charity Burbage.

Instead, you carefully undo the intricately folded wings of the plane. It's barely big enough to fit into your palm once open, the top of the little note marked in black ink.

It was the same handwriting that marked the sign-out sheet for equipment in the Quidditch storage rooms down at the pitch.

'Thanks for that one, smart-mouth.'

Your eyes flicker up to Burbage, who's back is turned, before you dip your quill into the ink and scribble out a response. In your peripheral, Oliver is leaned back in his stool: biceps folded over each other. There's an unexplainably airy-fairy, fuzzy feeling warming your rib cavity.

'Believe this one was your fault, dickhead.'

You quietly refold the creased edges, before tapping it lightly with the end of your wand: then watch how it takes off the airstrip of your page and zips quietly under the cover of desks to land back in front of the sender.

There's a long pause - enough for Burbage to draw out a whole flow diagram of something called "parliament" - before the edge of the paper wing grazes at your calf again. It lands quietly again.

'Maybe.

We good?'

There's a gentleness to the sentence. Like you can hear it from Oliver's mouth, like he's avoiding your gaze when he whispers it.

You hunch over the note again.

Oliver's knuckles are turning white, twisting his wand in his hands under the table. He shouldn't have said anything. He's regretting the whole fucking idea of the stupid paper-plane now.

He's trying not to watch you write, not to notice how long you stared at his writing before you picked up your own quill. He does anyways.

When the airplane flutters down into his palm, Burbage is already excusing the class. Stools are scraping against cold tile, the clutter of textbooks being crammed back into bags.

'Never :)'

His eyes run over the word once, twice, three times over. A smile is tugging at the edge of his lip, he forces it taut - but his eyes are still shining unusually brightly when Archie knocks his shoulder to his.

"What you looking so damn happy about?"

Oliver tucks the note into the pocket of his robes. "Don’t know what yer talking about."

-

"But professor, why can't Hufflepuff take Saturday?"

"Well, Hufflepuff already gave up our practice days for Gryff--!"

Hooch sighed so deeply she almost melted back into her armchair. "The decision is made, Oliver. The pitch is being cleaned out on Wednesday, your team can take Saturday for any extra training."

He could practically hear the smile creeping onto your face, the smug crossed-arm look he'll no doubt find when he turns to you.

Irritation bubbles up in his throat, a familiar companion in your presence, and just as he prophesied: you are grinning.

In the weeks that followed that day in Burbage's class, it seemed that both parties decided that the topic of their shared kiss outside the Ravenclaw common room was best left undiscussed.

The arrangement is working. At least Oliver thinks so.

You still bait him and he still snaps, rising to your taunts. He still finds himself in detention more Fridays than he spends free, and his body ripples with anger when you roll your eyes at him.

But it was in moments, like this now, where your little self-satisfied grin doesn't quite vex him to the degree it once did. It's now harder to find a retort, to snap at you with a sharp-edged comment. Not when amusement crinkles at the corners of your eyes where your black lashes kiss so prettily.

Hooch swivels in her chair to find a document between one of her cluttered drawers, you take the opportunity to stick the tip of your tongue out childishly at him.

Oliver draws a tight breath, he hopes his face is still taut in annoyance, because his heart has slipped like a stone down into his stomach. That's the other issue, the tiny little obstacle in these recent weeks: he can't stop looking at your mouth. It's distracting, disarming - paralysing at the best of times.

He strips his gaze away, before he can be outed by anyone in the room. "Whatever." He mumbles.

You seem disappointed in his lack of a real response, but it passes quickly - like a shadow - over your face.

"Thanks professor." You grab up your roster from her desk and turn to the door, practically skipping out into the corridor.

He huffs.

Somehow, you and Archie have become fast friends. Mornings around Fire-Seed Bushes and Venomous Tentaculas in the heat of Greenhouse Three seems to do wonders for a friendship.

It prickles at Oliver's nerves when you pass in the corridors, when you perk up with a high "hey Arch!" and he grins down from his towering height right back at you: "hey Y/n!"

You don't look at Oliver. He's notably sour the rest of the walk.

Alright, maybe the whole arrangement wasn't really working. You were a distraction to him before, no doubt, but somehow your powers of beguilement had tripled. Especially since you seem to be behaving perfectly normal: like you hadn't given Oliver the best snog of his life outside the Ravenclaw common room that night.

Maybe it was just alcohol, maybe he is the only one plagued by the knowledge of the other's taste.

The castle has turned impossibly colder, the bitter bite of winter stinging at the loose cuffs of his robes on walkthroughs of the corridors. He can't imagine how cold the air above the pitch is going to be on Sunday when Hufflepuff faces off Slytherin for a spot in the finals.

It's all Hooch has been going on about for the last two weeks.

Oliver's had to shift around at least four practices - Roger almost twice as much, he's a pushover - to allow for you and Marcus to have more time on the pitch. His complaints fell on deaf ears, Hooch dismissed him with a wave of her bony hand and a "your time is coming, Wood."

You prance into dinner late most evenings, hair in every direction and face flush with sweat: sticking it out like a bumblebee in those awful yellow quidditch robes.

Oliver only notices because, annoyingly, he's found that he is frequenting the bench at the Gryffindor table that faces over to the Hufflepuff's. His eyes drift over the yellow-tied heads to where you clump up with Enzo and Cherry, watches you talk around mouthfuls of toast lazily, giggle behind your napkin: head rolling back to showcase that smooth neck, how it runs down to the soft slopes of your shoulders: disappearing down into your button-up.

Archie has noticed, he's sure, but hasn't done more but allude to it with teasing glances or suggestive comments.

"The Hufflepuffs up to something particularly interesting over there, Ollie?"

The speed with which Oliver's eyes snap to his peas is almost comical. He shrugs and mumbles like a child. "Don't know."

-

On Sunday morning, you don't go to breakfast.

There's an uncomfortable gurgling in your midriff, like a snake is slithering between your organs and you're sure even just the smell of eggs on toast would bring up your dinner.

Instead you find yourself at the pitch a whole hour before the game is set to start. Marcus is running laps around the grass, something he's done since you've known him.

He offers a curt wave, face set like cold stone.

It reminds you of Oliver a little bit, the distraction in his eyes.

Oliver is never all the way there, wherever he is, you think. His eyes mist over like he's halfway between this world and another. You know it's Quidditch: he dreams it, eats it, sleeps it.

But lately he's foggier than usual.

You think it's your imagination, brush off the idea as you have all the millions of others you'd had in the preceding weeks about the surly brute that was Oliver Wood. He plagues you.

Just the vibrato of his unimpressed huff when you get your way, when you quip something purposely annoying at him. It's addictive, the feel of his sugar-brown eyes glaring a hole through you.

Lately, his reactions have been closer to underwhelming. Allowing for only a moment of eye contact: gone are the quick-witted retorts, the Scottish-laced "princess" usually attached. The thought makes you wince in embarrassment, knowing that you've been pressing him harder lately: like a seven-year old jabbing at a claw machine, outwardly desperate for that brown plushy on the top of the pile.

Maybe he's over it. So deathly mortified of your shared kiss that he doesn't want to know you anymore, much less take the effort to hate you. Your chest pinches tightly.

You dress into your match robes slowly, taking your time with the loops of your shoelaces and the buttons down the sweater you're wearing underneath everything. Oliver Wood should be at the bottom of your list of priorities, normally, but now more than ever.

The team filters into the change-room, exhibiting varying degrees of nervousness. Cedric is practically green, but Herbert looks like he's about to go down a water-slide he's waited over an hour in line for. Beyond the swinging doors, you can hear the crowd shuffling loudly into their seats.

Before your wits are completely about you, Hooch is rapping on those same doors. "Onto the pitch, Hufflepuffs!"

You muster up your best excuse for a captain's speech for what might be the last match you ever play as one. The team seem satisfied, you figure it's easy to find solace before a game when you know it's not your last. As the only seventh year, comfort doesn't come so easily to you.

The crowd is deafening when yellow robes take to the sky: Marcus looks over, offering another nod, not unlike the one he'd given you earlier. You can tell he's feeling the dread of finality too.

There's a whistle blow and the quaffle flies past your face with a speed that nearly evacuates your nose from your face. Lee is announcing in the distance and the rumble of adrenaline forces your fingers over the handle. It tilts and you dip, disappearing into the sky of players.

-

The winter air at Hogwarts was biting enough roaming the corridors, but thirty metres off the ground is something wholly unnatural. Your face was burning crisp from the icy wind, the feeling in your cheeks and nose lost to the Scottish cold.

Foggy white clouds puff out with each heavy breath. Cedric zooms past and Jane loops around his moving figure to knock a stray bludger in the opposite direction.

Your eyes flash between them and the fast approaching Malcolm, he tosses the quaffle at you with a grunt and you catch it at the tips of slippery, ice-frozen fingertips.

Shooting forward again, you duck under Marcus who is hurtling through the sky at you: gone is the look of friendly fondness from his eyes, replaced with a hunger for the leather-bound ball in your grasp.

Just missing the grasp of his meaty hand, the ball passes onto Heidi.

"Another ten points to Hufflepuff," Lee's voice echoes as if from heaven. "That brings the score to ninety for Hufflepuff and eighty for Slytherin!"

It's been nearly ninety-five minutes of sitting on your broom growing colder, and you're not alone.

Around you, the team is descending into frost-induced exhaustion: Jane's nose is as bright red as a Christmas ornament and Cedric has been peeping over the top of his thick woollen-scarf for at least the last half - barely enough to catch a glance of the whizzing canary and emerald robes, much less of a tiny golden snitch.

You sigh out another white breath, letting your eyes drift over the stands. It's saturated with moving heads of faces you can't make out and yellow and green swaying banners. Your gaze lingers on the top left, in the corner facing the castle. It's where Cherry and Enzo park themselves during every match, where you know they're screaming in support, clenching their teeth at every quaffle handover. You can feel them, even when their faces blur into the crowd.

Unintentionally, you think about how Oliver's mixed in there too. Somewhere between your peers. If you had been granted another moment, if the quaffle wasn't mid-air between two Slytherins just under your nose and you'd not taken the opportunity to snatch it from them, you would have meandered into the trap of hoping that deep down in his chest - even if it was core of the earth deep - he was rooting for you, too. That he seethed at a missed goal or clenched a tight fist at his side in celebration when a Hufflepuff makes a beautiful play.

Meanwhile in the stands, Oliver has decided that the desire to play his allegiances in secret has since disappeared from his heart.

He'd played it light in the first few minutes. Mumbling under his breath at a fumbled pass or a slimy move from the Slytherins, but by the forty-fifth minute he'd found himself on his feet.

"Diggory!" His hands waved in front of him, "it was right there you fucking git--"

A Hufflepuff third year a row ahead looked at him askew, but he paid her no mind.

Archie had taken the hint early. As soon as Oliver was out of his seat, so was he. Despite being Oliver Wood's best friend, Archie had somewhat limited knowledge of the game himself and eyed Oliver's reactions to find the appropriate moments to whoop and cheer. Oliver didn't say anything, but he appreciated it more than he could verbalise.

His eyes tracked you more than anything, when you were flying between players or just floating in place: eyes like a hawk, watching over the game. His heart swelled and his pride fell to the wayside.

Just short of the two hour mark, there was a rise in the crowd.

"The seekers have caught sight of the snitch!"

Oliver's stomach rose into his throat.

"They're diving for it, Malfoy and Diggory head to head-- and Slytherin grabs the snitch, winning by 140 points!"

It sank back into place, like a stone to the bottom of the river. He watched how you froze, how you twisted over your shoulder to find Diggory's figure lingering at the bottom of the field. You shoulders sagged, hanging in the air as the others dropped to the ground.

"Slytherin have made it into the finals against Gryffindor for the quidditch cup, back here at the pitch next month!"

After a long moment, the last in the sky, you followed them down.

The raucous cheers from the Slytherins were hard to drown out, he wasn't even sure Archie heard him toss a "i'll find you at the castle" before he found himself pushing through the masses of people.

He fought against the wave moving to find the stairs, eager to return to the warmth of their dormitories, but Oliver was markedly more motivated than the majority. He stomped on some toes and nearly tossed a first year off the stands to race down the stairs.

Only once his feet had found the mushy grass of the pitch, did he pause to consider that he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say. What was the rush for? To comfort you, tease you for your loss?

The latter option was definitely what he could do, what he could say. What was expected of him, if he was being honest. Recently, however, he's found it harder and harder to come up with remarks to hurt your feelings. Found that he quite prefers that little smile that tucks into the corner of your mouth when he says something unexpectedly fond. How your eyes practically gleam.

There's shoving from all sides of him -- get out the way, bloody hell -- and the teams pass ahead of him. Leading the march, despite it being nothing more than a slow trudge, is your figure: squashed between those of who he recognises to be Cherry Stretton and Enzo Musa's.

Their arms wrapped over your shoulders, talking animatedly into your ear on each side. Enzo tips his head to meet yours, a small touch of comfort.

Oliver sighs. He has nothing to say and no comfort to offer, wondering for a moment what he could possibly bare to hear in his own final moments as captain. He thinks that anything from your mouth would work.

So he waits, parks himself beside the stairs and waits for Archie: watching the six-legged figure disappear up over the hill.

-

You're not at dinner.

He knows because he's been watching the door for the better half of an hour. Archie pushes his plate at him, "Eat something there, Ollie."

Begrudgingly, Oliver brings his drumstick up to his mouth. "She's not eaten a thing since breakfast, it's almost eight."

Archie passes a sympathetic look over him. "Her friends are here, I'm sure she'll be by soon. There's no use you joining her on a hunger-strike."

He's right. Cherry and Enzo and some others that frequent your circle are talking around the table, around the spot that you usually fill. But dinner goes on and students leak steadily out towards bed without your return.

Eventually Oliver huffs, like an irritated bulldog, and grabs for the nearest napkin: unfolding it out in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Archie asks thickly, spitting bits of rice at him.

Oliver reaches for two chicken skewers, placing them neatly on the white square: alongside a dinner roll and a pumpkin pasty.

He wraps them over, double wraps it with another napkin too.

"What does it look like, Arch."

Placing it carefully into the deep pocket of his robe, Oliver goes to stand - lacking the patience it takes for Archie to answer, or for his inevitable teasing. "I'll find you back in our room."

He's halfway out the hall when Archie's voice calls out to him, "You don't even know where she is!"

Oliver shakes his head, brandishing a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "I know where she is." He mumbles for only himself to hear.

-

You’d watched close to twenty-one quidditch matches from the stands at the pitch on Hogwarts grounds: played in almost half of them. 

The seat is still slightly too small, just uncomfortable enough to make a person shuffle. Beyond the rim over the other end of the pitch you can see the orange sun dipping behind the horizon, drawing to darkness over your moment alone.

By now you're sure the party in the common room has long since found momentum. The one you'd been promised by the team, "it's your last game, cap, we need to celebrate!". You're sure someone somewhere is looking for you, bracing a plastic cup of Firewhisky with your name on it, but you can't find it within yourself to face it all just yet.

The silence of the evening is enough, you only wish you'd been fast enough to retrieve your broomstick that's somewhere off with Enzo. Just for one last lap.

The serenity of your loneliness doesn't persevere, however. You can hear shuffling up the steps, you're tempted to look but the sunset is slipping so quickly out of your hands that it's not worth the time wasted.

It's only when the footfalls draw closer, stopping when a body slumps into the seat beside you. The seats are so cramped that his knee brushes yours, the figure long since identified from the corner of your eye.

"Come to gloat?" You ask, eyes never leaving the sky.

He shrugs. "Not today."

You nod. His smell drifts on the breeze under your nose, like peppermint and soap and Oliver.

There's a long silence. Your robes crease against the fist sitting in your lap, you've yet to change out of your quidditch uniform, you know it will be the last time.

"You missed dinner."

"Does it matter?"

Despite your avoidant gaze, Oliver's is warming the side of your face. The evening air cools the same spot.

There's a shuffling that finally draws your eyes. Oliver is still in his robes too, and his hand emerges from a deep pocket with a folded napkin square. "Figured you'd be hungry."

He places it onto your lap with a gentleness you're coming to find more of in him. Something frighteningly warm erupts in your chest and your hands come up to it, pulling apart the napkin to find picky bits inside.

You're fighting between smiling and starting to cry. You do neither.

"You carried this in your pocket the whole way from the hall?"

His eyes flicker between the food and your face before he shrugs. "Yeah."

By now, you were fighting a losing battle and the smile pulled up at the ends of your mouth so tightly that your cheeks started to hurt. "Gross."

You pick up a chicken skewer regardless, biting into it and facing the sky again. You offer him the other one and he looks for a moment like he's going to argue but takes it quietly in the end.

The chicken is tender and only after you'd swallowed the first bit did you realise how hungry you'd actually been. You finish it without a word, going to tear the pasty in half and offering a piece to your companion.

You're picking at the roll now, tearing tiny bits off and feeding it piece by piece to yourself like a bird. "Last game."

He nods. "I know."

"What could someone say to you after your last game, Wood?" You pick at him, eyes flittering between him and the now nearly black sky. "You know, to make you feel better?"

Oliver shakes his head, leaning back and rolling his shoulders: as if the thought itself unsettled him.

"Nothing, probably. I'd probably just walk into the Black Lake and drown myself."

You think he's joking, but with Oliver Wood that was hardly a sure thing.

"You wouldn't."

"What's there left to live for?" He says it with an airy chuckle.

Shrugging, your head falls against your shoulder. "You'd have to figure it out, because I'd go marching in right after you. Carry you out if I had to."

Oliver stills, eyes wide and blinking at you. Your chest goes tight, the ghost of a smile pressing at your face.

"Bridal style and everything ..." You add quietly, stifling your chuckle.

He seems to come back to himself, nodding. "We should get back. Been a long day."

The napkin crumples in your hand, shoved down into the depths of your own pocket. You walk ahead, the pathway to the steps is only narrow enough for one person at a time, and he trails behind.

By the time you've hit the steps, Oliver moving down beside you, you're brewing around an apology. A way to thin the air, to ease where your chest is tight: swirling around well done, now you've made things awkward you git. It's halfway up to your tongue when skin brushes against the back of your hand.

Warm fingers explore your knuckles to find your cool ones, slipping to knot between them.

You work not to look down, because Oliver's skittish like that. From the corner of your eye, you can see he's concentrating his gaze ahead.

His hand tightens against yours, palm callous from years wrapped around the wooden handle of his broomstick. It's a little sweaty and sticky but you're smiling so hard you're about to be sick.

You dare to look at him, Oliver's smiling too.

-

Oliver hasn't been sleeping.

His last few days of seventh year are slipping like water through his calloused hands and he can feel it. Every hour that passes, shadowy and fleeting.

Classes feel shorter than before, the terrible jokes Archie bombards him with over dinner sound funnier than he ever remembers them being and the glimpses he catches of you in the corridor never feel long enough. The ceiling of his poster bed flashes with moments of the day that's passed, feeling like a dream you'll be jolted out of as soon as it gets good.

Even over all his hours of broody contemplation, none of it makes the final whistle any easier to swallow. It hits him like he's been smacked with a bludger in the chest.

"Gryffindor has won the quidditch cup, two-hundred and thirty points to twenty!"

He can hear the crowd's roar, the whoops of the twins floating somewhere below him. Harry's standing on the grass of the pitch holding up his tiny golden trophy. The pitch is red all over: Oliver won.

He won.

Every moment building up over the last seven years culminated into the final blow of the whistle. The wind is whipping at the hair over his forehead: Oliver thinks this might be the happiest moment of his life, but he's not entirely sure.

He never realised that it would all be so fucking soaked in sadness.

It's over. He's leaving the castle empty handed. His engraving will live on the Quidditch Cup in a dusty cupboard for years to come, yes, and he might have a frame up in his future apartment somewhere, reminiscing on the old days. That's all.

He's struck with the devastating fear that in a few short years, nobody will remember him. More than anything, he can't believe he hadn't come to this overwhelming conclusion before right now. Before Angelina is yelling to him, waving a frantic hand and sporting the biggest grin in all of Scotland, before he was seconds from taking the prize he's held in his mind for so many years into his very hands.

Will you forget him?

It nearly knocks him off his broom. He finds that it scares him the most, more than the thought of the dust-caked trophy or the lonely corner at the back of his cupboard where his Hogwarts robes will no doubt live until eternity.

He won't forget you, he thinks. He knows.

You're just so damn annoying. And beautiful, fucking whip-clever and hilarious sometimes--

The handle of his broom is tilting down to the earth now, the crowd zooming into a blur on either side of him. He hits a shaky landing, broomstick abandoned on the grass behind him as he's pulled into the arms of his team and well-wishers.

A golden trophy passes over the heads of the twins and it's shoved into his sweating hands. It's cool to the touch and so much heavier than he thought it ever could be, but he can't seem to keep his mind on the situation long enough to realise any of that. His mind is racing around the castle wondering where you might be and what's the fastest way to get there.

His eyes are racing over the heads of the roving crowd. "Wood, Wood! Speech!"

Shadowing over everyone is Archie's tall figure standing at the back, grinning down at him. The team watches expectantly.

This is it. The moment for the speech he's been practicing in his bathroom mirror since he was seven.

"I--" he looks down at the cup for the first time, his face reflecting up at him in glimmering gold. He finds he can't remember any of the words. "I need to go find someone."

There's a buzz of confusion, but Oliver doesn't linger: shoving the Quidditch Cup into Harry's arms.

"That's the shortest speech Wood has ever given." He hears Angelina quip, but he can't be arsed to turn. He's already flying, moving through the crowd at such a pace he might just have been on his broom.

The sea of students had long since started moving up to the castle, particularly the non-gryffindors: trying to beat the stampede of scarlet that is no doubt to come. Oliver's legs carry him over the smooth green hill up towards Hogwarts, head craning over students to find your side profile somewhere in the mass.

He catches few oy, watch it!'s and congrats, Wood!'s but he doesn't turn, doesn't stop running. Students bespeckle the grass like ants lining up for crumbs, and he's all the way up into the stone corridor leading to the Great Hall when he spots Cherry's velvet red curls over the crowd, and sure enough, he finds you're knocking her shoulder with your own.

It only takes one shout of your name and you turn to peek curiously back, by which time he's taken both your shoulders into his hands and steered you to the wall of the corridor.

"Wood! What are you do--"

His hands squeeze around the plush at your upper arms. "Oliver. My name is Oliver."

Your eyes are wide in surprise, the window behind you showcases the gardens and the pitch in the distance. Sunlight forms a halo over the crown of your head.

With a head tilted in confusion, you nod slowly. "Alright ... what are you doing, Oliver?"

He can feel the eyes of Cherry and Enzo burning a hole through the side of his head, but doesn't bother with it. You're blinking up at him, gentle and benign in your features. He wonders when it became like this, when you'd lost the tight brow and the frown every time you looked at him.

"I won the Quidditch Cup." He says blankly.

You nod, a small smile tucked into the corner of your lip. "I saw. Congratulations."

Oliver only nods back at you. "I wanted to tell you. I wanted to come shove it in your face."

He's shuffling closer to your figure, and he's more than pleased to discover that you aren't cowering from it.

"Of course you did, because you're a prat." But you're smiling so hard now that it's impossible to take your jab to heart. "Is that all, Oliver?"

A warm sensation is spilling into his rib cavity and his fingertips are buzzing with electricity when they come to find either side of your face.

"No." His forehead is nearly touching yours and your hands have wrapped around his wrists. "I came to ask you out on a date. A sappy, disgustingly romantic date where I bring you flowers and pay for your hot chocolate. You'd hate it."

"That truly sounds horrible." Your smile is so wide he can barely see the whites of your eyes and it pumps more adrenaline through Oliver than any argument you'd ever shared over the last seven years.

"So, is that a yes?"

You're bouncing on your toes a little bit, bumping your nose against Oliver's clumsily. The babble of passing students and gawking onlookers has practically fallen mute to him.

"Depends, are you going to kiss me goodnight after?" You whisper it, like it's a secret between just you and him.

He nods slowly, "pretty desperate to kiss you right now, if I'm being honest princess--"

You don't wait for him to finish, thank Merlin you don't wait for him to finish, and push up onto your toes: crashing against his mouth. You're kiss is as dizzying as he remembers, but softer this time. You kiss like you know he's not running away, hands pressing softly over his neck.

It's nothing like your kiss outside the Ravenclaw common room: where that one was desperate and hot and angry, this time it's born from longing and tenderness and acceptance.

It leaves him just as fucking breathless as the first time.

Somewhere behind him, he hears wolf-whistling (he's sure it's Cherry) and when you pull your lips off his, your face is flush with embarrassment.

"I will go on a date with you, Oliver."

He takes your hand into his, curling his fingers between your own. You lean up to peck him softly and bat your eyelashes at him, grinning innocuously when you whisper: "If you treat me like you did with Delilah, I'm throwing your broomstick into the fireplace."

-

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[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Malleus Draconia

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.540 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

Malleus wasn't at the Housewardens meeting, but Lilia was. On the outside, he was surprised and worried. On the inside, he was thinking of a plan to ensure that Malleus wouldn't know about this by any chance!

He tasked Silver and Sebek with ensuring that Malleus remained uninterested in what happened. And if they had to tell him what was going on at school, they could tell him the truth with the exception of the identity of the kidnapped student. They should say it was a random student they didn't know.

But Lilia's plan didn't just include Silver and Sebek, he charged all Diasomnia students to follow the same plan. According to Lilia's orders, there was only one event that would force the students to reveal the identity of the kidnapped student to Malleus: all others failing and he being your only hope.

In this scenario, Lilia would be part of the last group. And while some students tried to rescue you, Malleus was completely indifferent to the situation. After all, it wasn't anything that concerned him much, right?

Knowing that Lilia was part of the volunteers who were trying to save the kidnapped student, he would occasionally ask if anyone knew how things were going. The students told the truth, that it wasn't going very well and they were being petrified one by one. They just couldn't reveal your identity. And Malleus replied that it was a shame, but that he hoped everything would end well, and went back to his tasks and hobbies.

Meanwhile, all the Diasomnia students began to worry more and more, knowing that all the volunteers were failing in your rescue. Sebek complained about how incompetent all the volunteers were, except Lilia. And it would have to be him, in the last group, to solve everything.

But unfortunately, he was wrong. Even Lilia failed and ended up being petrified. Sebek still tried to convince the others to let him try to save you, but there was no time for that. There was only one option, your last hope, and the fear of Dioasmonia at that moment.

Of course, it was Sebek and Silver who were in charge of telling Malleus the truth. Sebek tried to beat around the bushes, even if unconsciously, but Silver knew that would only make things worse, so he simply said:

“I deeply apologize for keeping this information from you from the beginning, but it was father's orders.” The three of them were the only ones in the room, the other students were too scared of Malleus' reaction. “The kidnapped student is not a person we don't know. The truth is that (Y/N) is the kidnapped student. All the volunteers including father failed and you are the only one who can save them now.”

“WE WILL ACCEPT ANY TYPE OF PUNISHMENT IF YOU WISH, MY LIEGE!” Sebek said and the two knelt in forgiveness in front of Malleus.

A very loud thunder was heard outside and everyone inside the castle felt it. “How dare...” Malleus started to say, but remembered that Silver had said that it was Lilia's plan, so that would have to be resolved later. “Very well. Where are they?”

The moment you feared was getting closer and closer. The wedding had already begun when a storm began to approach. At first the princess didn't pay any attention to it, until the rumble of thunder was so loud that people's voices could barely be heard and she began to get really scared.

The entrance doors didn't simply open, they were slam into the wall, and Malleus slowly entered the ceremony hall. Everyone without exception could feel his terrifying aura.

“I apologize for entering this way into a ceremony to which I was not invited.” He was just being polite, he clearly wasn't sorry in the slightest. He stops. “Well, quite a glittering assemblage, Princess Eliza. Royalty, nobility, the gentry. It's a pity there won't be anything to celebrate.”

The princess says, "Of course there will be! Our wedding." pointing at herself and you.

“Truly?” He walks towards you again only to be stopped by the guards who stand in front of him. He looks at you “Tell me, Child of Man, do you wish to marry Princess Eliza?” he was fully confident that he knew your answer.

You frantically shake your head and say no. What increases Malleus's smirk towards the princess and the guards.

“From my understanding, marriage must be unanimously accepted by both people in the couple. So if (Y/N) doesn't want to marry you, there will be no marriage. Correct?”

The princess starts defending herself, saying that you still don't know what you want, but that after you get married you will see that you love her... But her speech is quickly interrupted by the rumble of thunder outside. And by the shudder that the building felt with them.

“With all due respect, princess, but your desires and illusions don't matter to me. You will release (Y/N) and give up on the marriage.” The guards prepare and attack Malleus to defend the princess. “Fools. All of you.”

In an instant, Malleus takes out all the guards with practically no effort. And when the last guard turns into a giant ghost, the same happens to him, defeated by Malleus without much effort.

“Oh no! Noooo!” The princess screams. “No, no, no...”

“You lost all your guards, princess.” Malleus continues. “It pains me to make such a cruel request, but the choice is yours. Either you release (Y/N) peacefully now or...”

“PUFFY!” The princess "runs" towards the ghost that Malleus has just defeated.

Malleus himself is confused, but he lets whatever was going on happen. The rest, you already know, they have a conversation in which they realize that they actually love each other and the princess ends up marrying the guard.

Malleus undid the paralyzing effect of the princess's slap and let the others deal with the rest of the problem, while he took you away from there without anyone noticing. He picked you up bridal style and disappeared with you. You appear in front of the entrance to Ramshackle Dorm and he sets you down on the ground.

“Are you well, (Y/N)?” Malleus asks you. “Did the princess mistreat you?”

You tell him that, other than the kidnapping, she didn't hurt you, and that you're okay, just still a little scared about everything that happened.

“Forgive me for not showing up sooner.” His voice became softer, more apologetically. “I was unaware that the student who had been kidnapped was you. The truth is that Lilia ordered everyone to keep that information from me.” He was a little upset when he said this last part.

You try to reassure him by saying that Lilia certainly had a good reason for doing that and that the others were not to blame, they were just following his orders, believing it would be the best for everyone.

He smiled. “Even after everything that happened to you today, you still want everything to be resolved peacefully. How wonderful.” He looks at you fondly. “You should be more careful. If you continue to show how charming you are, there may be more people who want to kidnap you for marriage. The kidnapping is undoubtedly outrageous, but I cannot blame them for wanting someone like you by their side for the rest of their lives. Or their afterlife.” He sees that you were flattered, maybe you even blushed.

“You look beautiful in those clothes.” He continues. “Would you like to get married in them or would you like something different?” You ask, surprised, why he was asking that. “I like to know more about you. And, who knows..." He smirks "maybe it will be relevant information for the future.”

He returns to a neutral and slightly more serious face. “I should reveal this to you (Y/N). When I found out that the kidnapped student was you, I felt a tightness in my chest. I felt such wrath that I wanted to hit everyone responsible with lightning and blow them off the face of Twisted Wonderland. At first I thought I only felt this way because someone who was very dear to me was kidnapped. But when I saw you at the altar I realized that it wasn't just that. It was also because... I... was jealous. Of the princess, I mean. The voice of whatever was pressing on my heart told me that I was the one who should be there with you! So, I need to know...” He approaches you and looks at you with bright eyes undecided whether they should reflect hope or apprehension. “Could it be that you might feel the same for me?”

You tell him yes and tell him how you feel about him. And once again he shows you that charming smile of his, the kind of smile of absolute joy that he can't hide. He grabs you by the waist and spins you in the air before hugging you with your feet still unable to touch the ground. He wanted to have your face close to his so he could kiss your lips.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[sadnymi]

Alibi.

Slytherin boys x reader ( platonic) , Theodore Nott x reader ( not so platonic)

Summary: Summary: You accidentally got yourself involved in some Slytherin boys' drama.

I was deep in the forest, kneeling on a bed of pine needles, my hands clasped in prayer. The air was still, the only sound was the whispering of leaves above. I was right in the middle of asking for some divine intervention in my life when, out of nowhere, something heavy crashed into me from behind.

I was flattened to the ground with a shriek, my thoughts of divinity abruptly replaced with panic. "Merlin's beard! What in the name of—" I twisted around, ready to fend off whatever forest creature had decided to tackle me.

But it wasn’t a creature. It was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins. And he was bleeding. Profusely.

He groaned, clutching his side. "Sorry," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry? You're bleeding all over me!" I squealed, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy and I was too flustered.

"Calm down, will you?" he said, his voice surprisingly steady for someone who looked like they'd been in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. "It's just a little blood."

"A little blood?" I shrieked again. "It looks like you were stabbed! Wait, were you stabbed?"

He winced. "Yeah, probably. Can you stop screaming? You're making my head hurt."

"Stop screaming? You literally fell out of nowhere, bleeding to death on top of me! Of course, I'm screaming!" I finally managed to wriggle out from under him, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Who did this to you?"

He groaned again, his face pale. "Don't know. Didn't exactly stop to ask."

I fumbled in my bag for my wand, hands shaking. "Okay, okay, just... just hold still. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding." I pointed my wand at his wound, but then my mind went blank. "Uh, what's the spell again?"

Theodore groaned, but this time it sounded more exasperated than pained. "Episkey. It's Episkey."

"Right, right," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "Episkey!" The wound didn't heal completely, but at least the bleeding stopped.

Just then, we heard a rustling in the bushes. I turned, ready to scream again, and out stumbled none other than Mattheo Riddle, his face splattered with blood.

I let out another scream, louder this time. "What is it with Slytherins and blood today?"

Theodore winced. "Can you stop screaming? You're going to attract every creature in this forest."

Mattheo, looking a mix of annoyed and amused, glanced between us. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? Why are you screaming?"

"That's what I want to know!" I said, throwing my hands up. "First, he crashes into me, bleeding all over, and now you show up looking like you’ve been in a bloodbath."

Theodore groaned again, trying to sit up. "Mattheo, could you do us a favor and not kill her with another heart attack? She's already a mess."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Calm down. This isn't my blood." He knelt beside Theodore, checking his wound. "How bad is it?"

Theodore waved him off. "Don't worry. The boy who did this is already dead. I killed him after he stabbed me."

My eyes went wide, and I started to hyperventilate. "You killed a boy? You actually killed someone? Oh my God, we're all going to Azkaban! I was just praying, and now I'm an accessory to murder! What if they find the body? What if they use Veritaserum on us? I can't go to Azkaban, I haven't even finished my O.W.L.s! Oh God, oh God, oh God—"

Theodore, clearly at the end of his patience, slapped his hand over my mouth. "Can you please stop talking for one minute? You're not helping."

I kept mumbling behind his hand, my eyes wide with panic. He glared at me. "Why can't you just shut up for once?" He looked at Mattheo. "A little help here?"

Mattheo smirked, watching the scene unfold. "You seem to have it under control, Theo."

"Seriously," Theodore grumbled, pulling his hand away. "We're in the middle of a forest, I'm bleeding, and she's having a meltdown about Azkaban. Can this day get any worse?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I was just praying for some divine intervention, not a bloody crime scene!"

"Well, you got it," Theodore said dryly. "Now help me up, and let's get out of here before something else happens."

As we struggled to get Theodore to his feet, I couldn't help but mutter a quick prayer under my breath. "Please, if anyone's listening, just get us out of this mess."

Theodore chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Just as we managed to get Theodore to his feet, the forest seemed to come alive with movement.

From the shadows emerged a group of masked men, all dressed in ominous black cloaks. My heart sank. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Theodore groaned. "What now?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed. "This day just keeps getting better."

I had a full-blown breakdown. "Who are they? What do they want? Why is this happening?" I shrieked, clutching Theodore's arm as the masked men closed in.

The leader of the group, his voice muffled by the mask, pointed at me. "Grab the girl!"

I promptly hid behind Theodore, using him as a human shield. "Why me? I don’t even know what’s going on! I was just praying! Praying! I didn't ask for this! Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything! I'm not important! I was just trying to—"

The leader looked slightly puzzled. "You must be important if you're here."

"What?" I spluttered. "No, this is just some weird punishment because I sneaked out of Hogwarts! I was having a terrible week and needed some divine intervention, so I came to the forest to pray for guidance and peace and—"

"I don't give a fuck," the leader snapped, gesturing to his men. "Grab her!"

The masked men advanced, and Theodore stepped in front of me. "No one will touch her," he said, his wand raised despite his injury.

Mattheo mirrored his stance, wand also at the ready.

I peeked out from behind Theodore, still rambling. "Seriously, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just praying because I failed my Potions test, and Professor Snape looked like he wanted to turn me into a newt, and then my cat got sick, and I just needed some clarity in my life, so I thought, 'Why not go to the forest and pray?' But then Theo crashed into me, bleeding everywhere, and now you guys show up looking like Death Eaters on a budget! This is just a cosmic joke, right?"

The leader looked exasperated. "Shut her up."

One of the masked men tried to grab me, but Theodore and Mattheo both fired off stunning spells, sending the attacker flying back.

Theodore turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes serious. "You need to stop talking now."

I nodded, clamping my mouth shut, but my mind was still racing. "This has to be some kind of punishment," I whispered. "Why else would this be happening? Maybe I angered a forest spirit or something."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Or maybe it's just bad luck. Now, please, stay quiet and let us handle this."

The leader, looking frustrated, signaled for the rest of his men to attack. "Get them all!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying silently. "Please, let this be over soon. And if we survive, I promise I'll never sneak out of Hogwarts again. Or pray in the forest. Or—"

Before I could finish my desperate plea, a figure appeared from the shadows and stabbed the leader in the chest. The leader collapsed, revealing none other than Lorenzo Berkshire, better known as Enzo, looking out of breath and slightly bewildered.

"Sorry, guys," Enzo panted, wiping the dagger on his sleeve. "There was this dragon—well, maybe it was a big bird. Hard to tell in the dark.“

Mattheo and Theodore wasted no time, seizing the moment of confusion. They grabbed the nearest masked men and swiftly dispatched them with a combination of spells and physical blows. The remaining attackers fled into the darkness, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as their leader.

Enzo, looking around at the chaos, spotted me and raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. Is this Y/N from Charms class? What are you doing out here?"

Before I could launch into my explanation, Theodore sighed and muttered, "Here we go again."

"I was just praying," I began "Well, I had the worst week ever. First, I failed my Potions test, then my cat got sick, and I just thought maybe if I could get some peace in the forest—"

Theo turned looked me dead in the eyes then slapped his hand over my mouth, his expression one of exasperated patience. "I swear, if I hear one more word about praying or forest spirits... or Potions tests or your cat, I'm going to lose it."

I gazed up at him, ready to argue, but then something struck me. His eyes. They were a striking shade of blue, filled with intensity and a hint of something softer, something...beautiful. I blinked, momentarily speechless.

Enzo, clearly amused by the whole situation, leaned over to Mattheo. "Is she always like this?"

Mattheo smirked. "Pretty much."

Theodore, still holding his hand over my mouth, looked at me with a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place. I nodded slowly, my panic subsiding slightly as I got lost in those mesmerizing eyes.

Finally, Theodore removed his hand, and I took a deep breath, determined not to start rambling again. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank Merlin," Theodore muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Enzo clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we've got that sorted, how about we get out of this forest before any more dragons show up?"

As we started to move, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Enzo, there's no dragon out there, you idiot!"

Enzo turned to me. "And how do you know that?"

"Because dragons don't just wander around the Forbidden Forest chasing random students!" I snapped. "They’re kept in the Dragon Reserve, or did you sleep through that part of Care of Magical Creatures?"

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what about that time Hagrid smuggled a baby dragon into his hut? Ever thought about that?"

I scoffed. "That was a one-time thing! And it wasn't even a fully-grown dragon, it was a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling! There's a huge difference!"

Enzo crossed his arms, a playful smirk on his face. "Well, maybe it was an escaped Ridgeback, then. You can't rule out the possibility."

I threw my hands up in frustration. "Escaped Ridgeback? Do you hear yourself? The chances of running into a dragon in the middle of the night are practically zero! You're more likely to find a Blast-Ended Skrewt out here than a dragon!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Theodore swiftly grabbed me and pulled me away. I couldn't help but look at his strong, albeit bloody, hand on my waist, leaving a bloodstain on my skirt.

As I glanced from his hand up to his face, I couldn't resist commenting, "You've got a pretty good grip for someone who was just stabbed."

Enzo and Mattheo burst into laughter, and Theodore shot them a deadly look. They quieted down, though still wearing amused expressions.

Theodore leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "You will not say a word about what you saw tonight, understood?"

His proximity made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. Dirty thoughts flitted through my mind, and I mentally pleaded, Please, God, I didn't mean to have them. You shouldn't have made him that pretty if you didn't want me to have them.

"Y/N," Theodore said, his voice breaking through my reverie. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

I blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yes. No talking about tonight. Got it."

He brushed the dust from my shirt and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sent a shiver down my spine.

"You two need a moment alone, or can we get moving now?" Mattheo said.

Theodore shot him another glare. "We're moving."

Enzo, called after us. "Hey, Y/N, if you see a dragon on the way back, be sure to let me know!"

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "If I see a dragon, I'll make sure it eats you first!"

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (7) II a.putellas

filling the void masterlist filling the void (7) II a.putellas

"te quiero mucho mi fresa, tanto tanto tanto hermana."

"i love you too, can i breathe now please?" you wheezed out with a little difficulty, exhaling as alexia let go of you and wiped the corners of her eyes with the pad of her thumb.

"tan blandito." you teased with a soft smile, your sister rolling her eyes and pushing you gently. "can i ask you something else?" you braced yourself but nodded, having hoped this little heart to heart might be over so the pair of you could move forward.

"mariona-" alexia started as you sighed, cutting her off. "mami told me that she already told you and alba what happened with her. ale i really do not want to explain it again, no i don't know why it happened, yes it hurt, yes i probably should have seen it coming but that was my first real relationship. well, i thought it was anyway." you mumbled, chest tightening at the memory of the humiliation, cheeks burning red and the laughter of those you'd considered peers and friends ringing in your ears.

you were brought back to earth by a hand on your shoulder, looking up to meet your sisters concerned frown. "no hermana. i was just going to ask, does she still live in the same house?"

~

"is this really a good idea? you are a public figure around barcelona alexia and you are the captain of the spanish national football team if we get caught-" you whispered as your sister waved off your concerns and shushed you.

"we will not get caught fresa relajarse, and that pendejo mariona has it coming." alexia mumbled, hand tightening around the carton of eggs in her grip.

"ale this really feels like a bad plan." you chewed on your bottom lip, the two of you camped out in some bushes awaiting the last light in the house to go off before you launched your attack.

"you said you and mapi egged that other puta's house, sí? well she got what was coming to her and now its marionas turn. nobody messes with a putellas hermana." alexia whispered poking your shoulder and turning her focus toward the house again.

you regretted telling her about that now, having recounted the story of how you'd gone to mapi after the humiliation of the fake relationship and the girl had seen red, packing you into her car and driving the pair of you to the store and then your ex 'girlfriends' house.

luckily she'd been away on vacation with her family for a couple of weeks and the two of you had both egged and tee pee'd her house entirely undetected.

but of course having heard this story alexia was drowned in a sea of guilt that you hadn't felt like you could come to her, though grateful you'd at least had mapi in her place and hadn't had to go through it alone.

so swallowing the bubbling jealousy at the fact and reminding after all it had been her fault that you'd not felt like you could go to her in the first place, this seemed to be how she was determined to make up for it.

"we've done this before alexia and it didn't go well!" you reminded, grabbing her arm before she could leap out of her hiding spot, eyes wide with worry as your sister sighed, the memory fresh in both your minds.

you'd been only ten years old, alexia twenty three and alba twenty. alba had just been cheated on by her latest girlfriend, a fact you hadn't quite fully understood but you knew she was upset and alexia was ropeable.

it had been a common theme throughout the years that you'd never really liked any of alba's partners, which was perhaps alexia's influence given she'd been vocal that she always felt alba settled for girls who didn't deserve her or treat her as such.

but this particular girl alba had fallen head over heels for hard and fast and learning that she'd not been loyal, crushed her more than she cared to admit but it was easy enough for both you and alexia to see just how much she was hurting.

"fresa despertarse. hermana. fresa!" you blinked as you awoke, groggily wiping your eyes and exhaling, vision adjusting to the dark to notice your eldest sister hovering over you.

"qué?" you mumbled tiredly, your sisters hands on your shoulders pulling you into a sitting position. "is it time for school?" you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes again and frowning as you noticed it was still dark outside.

"no. i need your help with something, but you have to be quiet pequeña and you are not allowed to ask any questions until we are in the car, vale?" alexia whispered as you nodded still half asleep, slumping over as the older girl moved to grab you some clothes.

"no no fresita, hora de despertarse!" alexia chuckled as you started to doze off again, catching you before your head could hit the pillow. "but its dark out." you yawned, shivering lightly as your covers were tugged away.

"i know. i will explain in the car hermanita, just get dressed please." alexia placed down a bundle of clothes beside you, flicking on your lamp before slipping back out of the room and closing her door behind her.

hopelessly confused you'd done as she'd asked, dressing yourself in the all black outfit she'd chosen, alexia joining you in a few minutes time also dressed all in black with a backpack slung over her shoulder.

"what are we doing?" "shh." "but its dark and-" "fres i said no questions till we get to the car!" "but-" "fresa." "fine."

"why do we need eggs?" you whispered with a frown, falling silent at the look your sister flashed you as she very quietly closed the fridge and motioned for you to follow her.

alexia held her breathe as she slid open the back door as quietly as possible, ushering you out and wincing as she slid it back closed with a click.

grabbing the back of your hoodie and holding you alexia watched eli's room with baited breath, sighing when the light didn't turn on. "vamos." she whispered, nodding for you to follow her down the back steps and around the side of the house.

"i'm not allowed to sit in the front." you reminded as your sister opened the passenger door and gestured for you to sit inside. "well tonight you are, get in."

once again as alexia started her car she paused, watching eli's window and only backing out of the driveway once the light remained off. "thank god mami snores." alexia mumbled with a shake of her head and a sigh of relief.

"can i ask questions now?" you asked eagerly, properly awake and almost vibrating in your seat as alexia exhaled and nodded her head, still driving to a place only she knew.

"where are we going? what are we doing? why do you have eggs? why did we use the back door? why isn't alba coming? why did we not tell mami? why are we wearing all black? why am i in the front? am i in trouble? are you in trouble?" you rambled out all nearly just in one breath, finishing and inhaling deeply, chest heaving.

"jesus you ask a lot of questions." alexia grumbled not having expected all of that, but with a shake of her head she gave you your answers.

"alba's ex girlfriends house. defending alba. they're for throwing. the front door squeaks. alba needs some sleep. mami wouldn't understand. so we blend more into the night. because i said so. no and no."

"i am still confused." "you'll see when we get there pequeña."

and that you had, the two of you pulling up to a house you'd not seen before in a street that wasn't familiar to you, not a soul in sight given it was around three in the morning.

"i don't think i can throw that far ale..." you chewed your bottom lip nervously, your sister chuckling and ruffling your hair. "thats fine hermana i will be throwing. your job is to hand me the eggs and keep a lookout, vale?" your sister instructed as you nodded, determined frown on your face.

so unloading a carton of eggs onto this girls house you both managed to sneak out undetected, proud grin on alexia's face as you rambled on and on the entire way home about how cool she was and how cool this was.

but you deflated slightly when you were sworn to secrecy after making a comment about how you couldn't wait to tell your friends at school about your adventure, pinky promising alexia you wouldn't tell a soul bar alba.

but there had been a reason you'd gotten away with it, and that was that despite thinking you were defending your sisters honour and practically falling asleep in your cereal that next morning, you and alexia had egged the wrong house.

"how was i supposed to know she moved house! i dropped alba off there when they were still together." alexia huffed, back in present time as the two of you crouched down in the bushes.

"you could have checked!" you rolled your eyes as your sister gave you a look of disbelief. "oh so true you are so right fres, maybe i should have gone and knocked on the front door and checked she still lived there?" alexia whispered harshly as you pulled a face.

"that wasn't what i meant." you mumbled, alexia handing you a carton of eggs. "vamos! its time hermana." and before you could even say another word alexia was leaping out of hiding and you were stumbing after her.

"least you can throw them now!" alexia teased as you both hauled egg after egg at your ex best friends house, admittedly feeling quite a sense of joy as they cracked and exploded all over it.

"mierda, go go go!" alexia almost shouldered you to the ground as the lights all turned on in the house, the pair of you sprinting away into the night, a belt of laughter leaving your lips as your sister glanced over her shoulder with a grin, the pair of you stopping once you were a safe enough distance away.

"feel good?" alexia asked with a smile once you'd caught your breath. "sí." you admitted, unable to argue her point that this would help you take back closure you were never given. "told you." your sister nudged her shoulder into yours.

"there is one other thing that would make me feel better." you added meeting her gaze as she frowned but nodded on encouragingly for you to continue.

but much to her shock what followed wasn't words, rather it was a cold egg smashed against the top of her head, your sister gasping in surprise as your lips curled into a grin.

"muchas gracias hermana, i feel much much better now. about everything!" you smiled happily, alexia wiping away the yolk which dribbled down her face with a hum. "i guess i deserved that." your sister sighed in acceptance given how she'd treated you the last year.

"but...as la hermana mayor." you recognized the glint in her eyes right away but before you could run her hand grabbed your hood, an egg smashed against your forehead. "alexia!" you gasped, wiping yolk out of your eyes as her laughter rang through the night.

"qué? you used to always want us to match, no?" the blonde grinned wickedly, shoving your head with a wink and rummaging around in her pockets. "fresa!" alexia groaned pushing you off as you wiped your face on her jumper.

"diablillo." your sister grumbled, huffing as she checked her pockets time after time. "did i give you the keys?" alexia asked as your eyes widened. "no. you had them, did you lose them? ale we need to get out of here we can't be found at the scene of the crime with egg all over us!" you hissed at the older girl.

"you can't find them. can you?" "they must have fallen out while we ran. hijo de puta!" "do you have a spare?" "sí...at home." "alexia!" "relajarse, i have to make a call."

you perked up as headlights appeared at the end of the street, hood pulled over your head and hair matted with egg as you counted down the minutes until you'd be back home and in a hot shower, a familiar car coming to a stop in front of where you and alexia sat on the curb.

"honestamente. do you two idiotas ever learn?" alba sighed, rolling down the window and holding up alexia's spare car key, twirling it around on her finger.

"we got the right house this time?" you shrugged as alexia snagged it with a grateful smile and a mumbled thank you, kissing your sisters cheek in appreciation.

"one day i'm going to get a call to bail you two tontos out of prison and it will be for...eggs."

~

you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you as you lay on alexia's couch watching a movie, your sisters settled on the other side of it allowing you the space you needed, though things were on the mend they weren't fixed.

but you'd be lying if you said that it didn't feel good to get a sense of normalcy back, watching movies and staying up late with the two of them just like you used to before everything changed.

especially given everything going on with your mami you did need them more than you realised, the thought of laying in an empty house by yourself while eli was in hospital not something you wanted to experience as much as you thought you could handle it.

you needed them, and you'd been needing them, but you were growing tired of pretending you didn't for the sake of saving your own feelings. your walls were still up but with your mami's words ringing in your ear you knew you didn't have to knock them all down but you needed to start lowering a draw bridge at least.

though between all of your thinking and the emotional exhaustion of everything catching up to you, it wasn't long before your eyes started to grow heavy and you dozed off.

"ale." the blonde looked away from the screen at the knock of alba's knee against her own, the younger girl nodding to where you were dead asleep, sprawled across the end of the L shaped sofa.

"some things don't change." alba chuckled, the pair of them now staring at you soundly sleeping, chest rising and falling. "just like when she was a baby, never makes it through a movie." alexia smiled fondly, getting up to grab a blanket and draping it over you, tucking in the sides like she knew you liked.

"she's still a baby, even if mami says we're not supposed to tell her that anymore." alba smiled, catching alexia's eye who chuckled, hesitating for a moment before leaning down and softly kissing your forehead.

"sí, our pequeña."

~

"so she can come home on tuesday? they're sure?" you asked in disbelief, alexia having just returned from the hospital and picking you up from work.

your eldest sister worried about you returning even just for a half day, but the clinic was rarely open on saturday and they were only testing all day, and your boss had reached out offering if you felt up to it it would be a good learning opportunity.

so trying her best to let you take the lead in letting her know what you needed alexia had taken you to see eli this morning before dropping you off to work and returning to the hospital, picking you up afterwards firm in her word you weren't taking the bus.

"they're keeping her for observation over the weekend but things seem to be stable. she just needs to avoid anything that brings her stress, watch her cholesterol, go for her check ups, take her medication and if anything feels weird she has to go back to the doctor to let him know." alexia recounted the instructions from the doctor as you nodded along.

"did you tell her about the game?" you winced as alexia sighed with a nod. "sí, it did not go over well with mami but the nurses agreed, its too much stress." alexia explained, the two of you and alba having yesterday discussed with one another your mami's game watching tendencies and how it would spike her stress too much for her to even watch on television.

"maybe they can just sedate her during the game." you mumbled rummaging through your bag, alexia chuckling in agreement as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

"i thought i was staying at home tonight?" you frowned confused at the change of the plan as alexia pulled into her own driveway. "tú eres, alba is already there but there is something i need to give you first." alexia motioned for you to follow her inside as your frown deepened.

much to alexia's surprise you'd planned to go to her game tomorrow, already having had breakfast plans with alba and brushing it off as being easier to just go to the game with her after rather than making her take you home, alexia forcing herself not to make a big deal over the obvious steps forward not wanting to scare you off.

none the less you left your bag in the car and followed her out of the car, still in your scrubs from work and curiosity peaked as alexia let the two of you inside and called out for her girlfriend.

"hola ol." you greeted the older girl with a smile and a kiss to the cheek as she appeared, kissing alexia when she thought you weren't looking, the habit making you roll your eyes.

but before you could have a chance to properly speak to olga, alexia was pushing at your shoulders and nodding for you to go to her bedroom, olga shrugging as you gave her a curious look.

"you're being weird." you sighed as she told you to take a seat on the bed, ignoring your comment and disappearing into her wardrobe, returning a moment later with a large bag and dropping it on the bed beside you.

"hermana, i know you asked not to speak about it anymore and i will not make this a big thing but-" she paused to tug open the strings of the bag as you peeked inside and frowned again.

"-i know i have not been around and i ignored you and made you feel pushed aside, i acknowledge that. but, you were not ever not on my mind. which is why i kept all of these for you, and i admit i should have maybe just given them to you and made time for you and maybe some of this might have been avoided." alexia explained softly, eyes flickering to read your face but struggling to find a story.

"some are from champions leagues games, the game i scored my first goal back since my injury, the first game i played the full ninety, the captains armband when i first wore it again for barça, my first national game back for españa-" alexia pulled out the shirts one by one, your face still unreadable as your hand ran over the material.

"you kept these for me?" you asked, finally looking up and meeting her gaze as she nodded.

"por supuesto. fresa i have always given you jerseys which are special to me, you might have stopped coming to my games which i understand. but me wishing you were there and wanting you to have these, that never stopped, and you will always mean more to me than any camisa, any game, anything." your sister spoke firmly, a nod all you could manage at the emotions which cascaded down on you.

but never the best at expressing these your sister cleared her throat, quickly packing the jerseys back into the bag and pulling the drawstrings tight again, grabbing it and making a beeline for her bedroom door.

"vamos fres you must be tired from work, i will drive you home."

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.

glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)

Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.

well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.

flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;

Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.

"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."

Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.

the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.

what the fuck.

"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."

closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.

holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)

"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.

staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.

A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."

"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.

somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.

and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.

No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???

you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!

The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.

Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.

"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.

blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.

Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.

"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.

"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.

"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.

Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?

The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.

Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.

Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?

Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?

Eating the rich.

Or in this case; their food.

and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?

[luvyeni]

𐙚 : NCT DREAMS REACTION TO YOU WEARING THEIR SHIRT ֶָ֢ !

content warning. unprotected sex , dirty talk, dry humping, degradation

request: heyy love your work can i req of reader wearing nct dreams shirt.

authors note. i hope you like it ❤️🫶🏾

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

𐙚 : MARK ֶָ֢ !

after sex but in the late night , he wakes up with a hard on, flashes of the previous night in his head. "fuck." he groaned , looking to the you who was sleeping soundly , looking so good in his shirt you threw on after , your black underwear on display for him. "fuck baby , please wake up." he gently shook you. "baby i need your pussy so bad, im so hard." you woke up to him rutting his hips against you. "m-mark." you felt him pull your panties to the side, the tip of his cock pressing against.

"just let me put it in, fuck baby."

𐙚 : RENJUN ֶָ֢ !

well of course you knew it was gonna rile him up , that's why you did it — you wanted to distract him from whatever he was working, and it work, you soon found yourself ass up in the same shirt as he fucked into your needy cunt. "fuck your such a brat." he cursed. "riling me up by wearing my shirt." he slapped your ass, making you yelp. "couldn't wait , just had have something in this needy pussy." yanking you hair. "answer me slut." you moaned at pain. "fuck yes!" he let your hair go with a scoffed , waiting for you to about to reach your peak before pulling out , leaving you a mess. "wh-why."

"whores don't get to cum."

𐙚 : JENO ֶָ֢ !

like with mark, jeno it's right after sex , finding his shirt on the floor , picking it up to cover your body — unaware that it would make your boyfriend hard as rock even though he just fucked you with in a inch of your life. "shit baby im hard again." he palmed himself through his boxers. "how jeno." you felt his hand reaching up his blue shirt , rubbing your sore unclothed folds. "just one more round baby , i swear." he pulled his underwear down , freeing his cock. "i'll be gentle." you moaned felling him enter you for the third time that night. "fuc you're still so tight, even after i fucked you open with my fat cock." he groaned into your ear, rocking back and forth.

"i cant help it , seeing you in my clothes all fucked out.

𐙚 : HAECHAN ֶָ֢ !

haechan already has low self control — but seeing you on nothin but his black tee shirt and underwear just makes the rest of it go flying out the window. "fuck baby please." he pulled at the hem of the shirt. "you look so good in my shirt, please sit on my face." he was whining like a child on your hip. "haechan i don't know." you worried. "please, i don't care if i won't be able to breath i need you on my face now." he laid down, grabbing your waist to straddle him. "come on." his hands came to your ass , patting it gentle.

"please smother me with your pretty pussy."

𐙚 : JAEMIN ֶָ֢ !

thinks you're the cutest thing in his shirt and his favorite pair of underwear; bouncing on his cock like a bunny in heat. "fuck baby." he groaned, holding your hips. "keep bouncing, you look so cute." he cooed. "taking my cock like a good bunny." he toyed with your clit , rubbing circles on your bud , making you whine out for him. "that's it , keep making those cute noises." he help you by bucking his hips up. "nana gonna cum." he hummed.

"go a head bunny and cum for me."

𐙚 : CHENLE ֶָ֢ !

he's the one who gave you the shirt , he wants to see you in so he's not gonna beat around the bush, asking you to put it on, immediately pouncing on you once he saw you. "keep it on." he said pushing you on to the bed. "i wanna fuck you in it." he said , pulling your underwear down along with his. "fuck." he cursed as he pushed into you , not wasting time fucking you. "shit le." you moaned. "you look fucking sexy in my shirt." he grunted. "need to fuck you." every time you wear his shirts he's gonna remember this and want to have sex.

"I cant help it my girlfriend is hot as fuck in my clothes."

𐙚 : JISUNG ֶָ֢ !

i've said before jisung is a little pervert in sheep's clothing — so when he see's them the only thing on his mind when he see's you braless in his white shirt is sucking on them; sitting you on his lap, not even bothering to lift your shirt up , sucking on your nipples through the shirt, the lewd imagine of the shirt and your nipples covered in his spit , making his cock hard. "fuck baby i need you." he sighed as you rocked back and forth.

"i need to fill you with my cock, please."

©️LUVYENI

[darknight3904]

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘰. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 (2017). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.1𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Logan was always a mystery to you. His brooding nature and gruff voice reminded you of an old tomcat that used to live in the bushes of the school.

You remember the first time you met him, he had been smoking a cigar in his room unknowingly letting the smoke waft into your room across the hall. You had told him off, telling him he was a bad influence for the kids around him and he had shrugged you off and dismissed your worries for the youth.

"I don't see any kids around here right now."

"They're all over the place, Logan. This is a school."

Most of your relationship had been like that, friendly banter, the occasional fight over something stupid, but at the end of the day friends who could trust one another.

At some point, you had grown tired of your life at the school. Tired of teaching kids Geometry and running missions that grew staler each year. Eventually, you left, packed up your junky Chevy, and bid farewell to the aging Professor with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug.

Logan hadn't said much to you that day. Only that you ought to stay, something about the team still needing you.

"Thought you hated being an X-Man, Logan."

"I'll hate it a lot less if you stick around."

You drove south and found yourself in rural Pennsylvania. Perhaps it wasn't entirely legal, taking up residence in some old cabin that time had forgotten. Not that it mattered much since three years after leaving the school, Logan showed up at your door, pounding on the wood of your front door like the world was ending. All it took was one look at the unconscious professor in the backseat of some car Logan must've stolen for you to start packing your bags.

Now, you were sitting in Mexico, sweating your ass off daily, hoping that Charles would be alright and not kill you and Caliban while Logan was at work.

"He's late."

"Yes, Caliban, I can read the clock you know." You sigh

Logan was getting slower by the day. When he had showed up at your door four years ago you had barely recognized him. Sure, he was has muscle-filled and imposing as ever, but his face and hair had changed so much. Wrinkles and scars filled his handsome face and there was more grey than brown hair on his face and head.

"I need you."

His words echoed in your mind even now, a year later.

"What if he-"

"He's fine. He's just slow." You sigh trying to focus on the book in your lap. Caliban was such a worry wart.

"He's not. And neither are you. Both of you, there's something wrong." Caliban said, motioning to your exposed arms where your veins were purple and swollen, making your skin look hideous, "We should go to a doctor. They can-"

"Can we not have twenty minutes of peace?! If Charles isn't driving me insane with his babbling about Taco Bell, it's you with all your questions." You groan, slamming the book in your lap shut, "I am fine."

Logan's grumpy attitude had rubbed off on you it seemed. You left Caliban and locked yourself in the little bathroom you all shared.

The pale-skinned mutant was right. Something was wrong. With you, with Logan. Logan's seemingly invincible healing was failing him. As for you, your entire body had been crisis-crossed with your veins appearing like horrible bruises on your skin. In some places, like your hands they were even raised, pulsing painfully at times. Your face had been spared so far. You guessed that was due to the slow aging process you had been given as a part of your mutation. It was only a matter of time before your face suffered though, you were sure of it.

Not that it mattered though. You had given up looking pretty months ago. After you got settled in Mexico, you found yourself plagued with thoughts of Logan. Never in your life had you found yourself attracted to him, sure you were aware that he was good-looking, everyone was. The older teen girls at the school in particular would often giggle and whisper when he'd enter the room, then again he was always wearing those boot-cut jeans that made his legs look fabulous. Yet you had always been immune to that pretty face, content with simple friendship.

The first month after you finally fell into a groove with Logan, Charles, and Caliban had been tough, but after that? It was like you were losing your mind. Logan was consuming your thoughts. Even when you were at work, cleaning some shitty local motel, you thought of him. Anything would remind you of him, from empty booze bottles in the motel trash cans to a forgotten leather jacket a guest left in the closet.

Even at night, you weren't safe from him invading your thoughts. Some nights you'd wish for him to be holding you close, big arms cuddling you, keeping you safe. Some nights were less family-friendly and you'd picture him on top of you, wringing multiple orgasms out of you while he grunted about how good you felt.

The result of those thoughts? Each day when he'd return from driving that damn limo, you'd wait at the door like a trained dog, happy and excited to see him. You'd try to get him to talk about his night, what clients he drove, which were the craziest, who was loudest. Other times you'd cook a nice meal for him with whatever was sitting in the janky fridge Caliban had gotten up and running. Every once in a while, he'd even lay his head in your lap on the couch and let you weave your hands through his graying hair.

It had gone like that for about three months until one day he snapped.

"Don't you ever shut your damn mouth? Fuck all you do is talk! Can't you see I'm tired!? I don't need you interrogating me every time I come back here!"

You had taken his words harder than you expected and before you knew it, your veins were bruising and rising. Your own powers were turning on you, just like his were.

You hadn't bothered trying to pursue anything more from Logan since that day. You didn't bother with your appearance in front of him, why should you? He wasn't interested in you after all. Not to mention if he wasn't interested in you before, why would be be when your own veins were making you look like Grimace from McDonald's.

Now, you primarily had short conversations with him. Usually, they were about Charles and what meds he needed, and how much they were going to cost. Occasionally, the two of you'd sit with a bottle of booze and reminiscence over what your lives once were, as X-Men.

The sound of tires screeching had you exiting the bathroom. He might've been an asshole but you still cared about him.

Logan slowly walked in, a bit of a limp in his step from some fight he had gotten in the other day. He went right for the fridge where cold beers sat, ignoring Caliban's squawking.

"Goin' away for a bit." He said as he slumped into a kitchen chair, looking at you

"Where?' You asked curiously

"Booked a long ride. When I get back we're buying the Sunseeker." Logan said

"Who's the ride for?" You asked, curious as to who would book the world's grumpiest driver for a cross-country road trip

"Some rich lady," Logan replied, sipping on his beer.

He was definitely lying. You wanted to get out of Mexico, perhaps it was better like this. Logan would get the remaining cash and you'd finally get out of here.

"Here." Logan said, tossing the pills for Charles on the table, "Don't let him miss any doses."

Logan shuffles towards you and stops when you look up at him. Tired eyes meet your own.

"I'll be gone a few days, just a few. Then we're leavin', bub" He whispers

You nod and decide to indulge yourself by gently resting your ugly-looking hands on his chest that's covered with a white dress shirt.

Your heart skips a beat when he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before walking off to put Charles to bed. Logan's never done that before, usually, he'd reject any physical contact from you, even back in the day he was never into physical touches.

You watch as the limo disappears down the road, carrying Logan off to whatever mystery client he had, if he even had one.

"He'll be back." Caliban's voice calls, trying to assure you

"I know." You sigh

"Don't you have work?" He asked as you lay down on the couch.

"Day off. My bitch of a boss doesn't want to pay to have more than one housekeeper at the motel each day." You say

"Cheap bastard," Caliban says, shaking his head

You let out a snort of laughter.

"You're telling me. The other day he told me to reuse the garbage bags in the rooms, just to dump the trash into the outside dumpster."

"They'll be roaches everywhere." Caliban laughs

"Can't wait to clean those up too." You sigh closing your eyes

The screeching of metal wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. You slowly sit up, groaning when your arm begins to tingle, it must've fallen asleep somehow.

"It's her, she's here!"

"Professor, back to the tank." You groan at the old man, not wanting to listen to his blabbing. The dementia got worse each day.

"It's Laura!" He exclaims

You huff and slump backward into the couch. You loved the Professor but he was exhausting sometimes.

You quickly stand up and stop him from wheeling himself outside. The sound of a car door slamming has a cold sweat running down your back. Logan was gone, who could be outside? Whoever it was you prayed they were weak, you weren't even sure that you could use your powers, let alone fight someone with them.

"Stay, put. If something goes wrong, get back to the tank and lock the door." You command

"Laura," Charles says again, listening to you and remaining still

You step out into the hot sun, not expecting Caliban to be standing next to Logan. A blonde man with a metal hand and aviator glasses stands and asks about Charles. You look at the newcomer, trying to figure out what his deal was. He was human, even with failing powers, you and Logan were stronger, did he have a death wish?

"Whoo, look at that. Not one X-Man but two? The Wolverine and....I'm sorry sweetie what was your name again?" The man suddenly smiles, looking at you.

"Get out of here, asshole," Logan says, placing a hand on the blonde man's chest, preventing him from taking another step towards you

"Tell me, sweetie, do you know where the girl is? Wolverine here seems to have misplaced her." He asks

"There's no girl here." You answer

A loud shout startles you and a metal pipe whizzes past you and Logan to strike the intruder on the head.

Laura is an interesting character. You watch from afar as she shoves cereal in her mouth.

"What the fuck is this?" You ask Logan who doesn't have an answer for you.

The rumble of the train goes by and Charles calms the girl who jumps from her seat.

"Look, we're leaving. That guy who she knocked out, he knows everything about us. Get your stuff together." Logan says, handing a bag to you

You groan but listen and scamper off to your room. Your "room" was really just a small double bed surrounded by sheets Logan had strung up on strings after you said you needed more privacy from him and Caliban.

You shove clothes into the bag along with a couple of dusty books to keep you busy on the road. As much as you'd like to, you doubted Logan was going to let you drive at all.

Logan's deep voice shouts your name and you dash out to the kitchen to see Laura eating her food, unbothered. Her eyes glance at the outside world where you can see Logan shoving Charles' wheelchair into the trunk.

"What's happening?" You ask frantically, dropping your bag into the dirt, forgetting its importance.

"Get in." Logan commands

You quickly jump into the passenger seat, shoving the empty bottles of Jack Daniels aside. You'll have to yell at Logan for that later on. Drinking himself into a hole wasn't going to help whatever was happening to him.

The blonde man must have to do with the amount of trucks that are surrounding you all. Logan curses as he tries to maneuver the limo out of the smelting plant. Much to your dismay, you're quickly surrounded with nowhere to go. Charles murmurs about Laura again as Logan tells him to shut up.

If it were twenty years ago, you'd be able to make a path. Your powers had never been pretty but they were effective. If only you were able to use them now on all these men who were exiting these vehicles, they'd be nothing but blood stains in the dirt. Head popping was never pretty but it was efficient.

The blonde man is back and shouting in Spanish. You wonder what has become of Caliban as you glance at Logan whose mind is certainly racing, trying to create an escape for you all.

"Hey there, Sweetie." The blonde says leaning his elbow on the windowsill and leaning into the car, "Charles Xavier, America's most wanted octogenarian."

"I'm a nonagenarian actually." Charles quips back, proud of his old age.

"Logan." You whisper looking at him.

You're certain you can still use some bit of your powers. If Logan could cut just one of these men open, you'd be able to carve a way out of this situation. It'd be painful but you could do it. Maybe.

Logan lets out a growl and shoves his door open into one brute who steps too close to the limo. You jump out of your own door, hot on his heels as the blonde man keeps his men from gunning you both down.

You let out a loud shout of Logan's name when the men begin to beat him. One man comes up from behind you and pins you arms behind your back, he's stronger than your weak body and slams you face-first onto the hood of the limo.

"Find the girl."

The men spread out as you struggle in his hold. Logan's pinned down by the threat of at least 6 guns aimed at his face.

"Careful, Williams. You're gonna break her nose." The blonde man says looking at the way your face is harshly pushed into the metal of the car

"She deserves it. Mutant freak." The man above you, Williams, scoffs spitting down at you

"This mutant freak controls blood, you idiot. I don't wanna find out what she can do with it, do you?"

Williams looks down at you and you feel his spit trickle down your temple. He loosens his hold and lets you stand up, keeping his gun pointed at you.

The sound of gunfire breaks the tense stare-down you were having and your jaw nearly drops when you see Laura approach, a man's head in her arms.

Your jaw does drop when two silver claws appear and she begins to cut down the men. Logan tackles you to the ground and keeps you safe from the rain of bullets two men send at you.

"Get in the back with Charles, stay down." He orders, gritting his teeth as you hear the bullets pushing their way out of his skin.

Laura's feral screaming fills your ears along with the sound of flesh being cut through. The metallic scent of blood fills your nose as Logan pushes you into the limo.

"Logan I can help!" You shout

His only response is slamming the door in your face.

The limo is surely a sight as Logan speeds down the road. Charles' voice fills the silence as he talks to Laura about the X-Men. You look at Logan who looks, if it's even possible, angrier than he normally does.

"If you want me to apologize, I'm not going to. So stop pouting like a kid." You say, looking down at your blood-stained hands.

"M' not pouting. And what you did was dangerous." Logan says

"And what you did wasn't? I'm not a delicate flower, Logan. I don't need you hovering to keep me safe." You huff

"Yeah well when your brain blows up from that blood manipulation of yours, don't come crying to me," Logan grumbles

"Please, when that happens I'll die. No way for me to complain then." You scoff

Logan shakes his head and keeps his gaze on the road.

You want to slap him for his attitude. That or kiss him, you really can't tell. The angry protector vibe he had going on was as aggravating as it was attractive.

He was mad for what? You had saved him from getting an AR-15 getting unloaded into his chest. Sure, now your head was throbbing from the effort it had taken to use your powers. It wasn't even your own blood you had used, just some from a man on the ground, fashioning it into a simple tendril and impaling Logan's assailant through the chest.

"They're not normally like this." Charles whispers to Laura, "They work very well together. Good friends, sometimes I think they're more than that.

You groan at Charles' words. Something tells you you and Logan were going to be fighting a lot more now that you were trapped in a beat-up limo together.

"Don't tell her that." Logan chastizes

"Tell her what?" Charles asks innocently

"Made up fantasy shit," Logan replies

The casino Logan picks is a buzz with noise. You haven't been around this many people in years. It had a cold sweat breaking out on your skin. You wondered what was going through Charles' mind as he suddenly reached for your hand for assurance.

"You'll be alright. " You whisper to the old man who nods

A mannequin catches Laura's eye and Charles points out their lack of clothes.

You can't quite tell what's going through Logan's mind as he sits beside you on a soft sofa, waiting for Laura to come out of the dressing room. You can tell he's still upset from earlier when you used your powers to help him. You decide to throw him a bone as he taps his right foot with impatience.

"Sorry." You mumble

"What?" He asks

"I'm sorry." You say again quietly

"I can't hear you," Logan says turning your face to look at his, most likely so he can read your lips. What an old man.

"I said I was sorry. For earlier." You say, louder this time.

Behind Logan, you can see Charles inch his chair closer, hoping to eavesdrop on you and Logan.

Logan lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. Your heart leaps to your throat when you hear the next words

"Don't worry bout' it, bub."

His big hand drops to your thigh and gently pats it assuringly.

"I would've done the same for you."

You place your own hand onto his and gently squeeze. His eyes meet yours and you swear they jump to your lips for a split second. You watch mesmerized as his tongue quickly appears to wet his lips before disappearing back into his mouth.

"Listen-"

Laura emerging from the dressing room breaks the trance he has on you and you jump up, fully flustered.

"Oh very nice." Charles coos at the little girl who is now in a unicorn shirt.

"Let's go." Logan gruffly says, brushing past you and towards the cash register.

You follow on Logan's heels as he limps to stand in line behind a little old lady. Laura and Charles are attempting to win at a claw machine that sits in the store a few feet behind you. Did Charles not see that the prize was poker chips? Laura wouldn't be able to do anything with the prize if they won. Whispers distract you from stopping the old man as he inserts money into the machine. Where did he even get the cash?

You glance to your right where three women stand. They're stylish, sleek, and vixenish with their tall heels, bodycon dresses, and sharp-winged eyeliner. You follow their pointed gaze to your own body and realize what they're giggling at. Your bruised arms, something you hadn't worried too much about before were drawing attention.

It wasn't just the women either, an older couple on your left are whispering as well.

"Oh my, what's happened to her?"

You feel a scowl pulling on your face, chasing away the good feeling Logan had left you with back in the dressing room.

You stomp over to a clothing rack filled with oversized hoodies. You snatch one off the hangers and walk back to Logan and shove it in his arms. He stumbles back a bit, not expecting you to be so harsh.

"I want this too." You demand before spinning on your heel to go find the nearest restroom.

Splashing cold water on your face is a luxury you had forgotten. Back in Mexico, the water in the pipes was always just a bit warm. Great for showers, but shitty for everything else.

You emerge from the bathroom to find your companions waiting for you. Logan tosses you your sweatshirt that stupidly says " I survived Oklahoma City Casino!".

If only you had picked out a plain one.

Logan hands you a key card to one room and then goes to open his own.

"Got a conjoining bathroom." He explains, "You and Laura can share that one."

You push the door open and are welcomed by the sight of an oversized king bed.

Laura immediately goes to the bathroom to open the doors that connect you to the Professor and Logan.

"Sit. Watch TV."

You hear Logan's stern voice speak to her. You can imagine his face as he says it. Stern, unmoving.

Logan limps into your room, shutting the bathroom door and sitting on the bed you're to share with the slightly feral child you've picked up.

Silence falls over you as you pretend to observe the ugly painting on the wall. You strained your ears trying to hear the TV next door. They'd done a good job soundproofing the rooms.

"What's wrong?" He huffs

"Nothing." You say, crossing the room to flop down on the big bed

"You've had a pissy look on your face since we left the dressing room." He points out, "More pissy than usual."

You roll your eyes but he can't see it since you've buried your face in the soft pillows.

You can tell Logan is still there, waiting for you to speak. You've got the feeling he's not going to leave you alone either, stubbornness was always a strong suit of his.

You flip yourself around and prop your head up on a pillow to look at him.

"Those women in the dresses and heels, they pissed me off." You admit

"What women?" Logan asks his face screwing up as he tries to recall who you were talking about, "There weren't any women."

"The one's in the tight dresses and heels." You say looking at him, not believing he hadn't noticed

Logan shakes his head again.

"It's my arms." You sigh, "I got comfortable in Mexico, you and Caliban never said anything about them. Not to mention Charles doesn't seem to care either."

You fiddle with a stray string that sticks out of the sleeve of your new sweatshirt. Machine-made stitching was always poor quality.

"I don't know what women you were seeing," Logan says, suddenly scooting up the bed and laying down beside you, "But I don't give a shit about what your arms look like."

"It's not just my arms, Logan." You softly breathe, thinking of the rest of you, marked with ugly bruises.

"Doesn't matter to me." He sighs with a wave of his hand

You feel tears pricking at your waterline and you willed them away. There wasn't even a reason to cry. He was just being nice, being a good friend.

"Are you crying?" Logan asks

"No." You lie

A warm tear slips down the side of your face and then all of a sudden they won't stop. You turn on your side and curl up into a fetal position. Maybe Logan will leave you alone now, he never liked dealing with his own feelings, let alone another person.

"Hey." He says, "Quit blubbering like some baby."

You're surprised when he suddenly scoops you up and places you in his lap. Big hands wipe at your tears and he hands you a tissue from the nightstand for your nose.

"Sorry." You sigh taking a deep breath to calm your nerves

Logan lets out a deep grunt and he lets his actions do his talking. One big hand rubs up and down your back to soothe you while the other is drawing circles on your knee.

"You shouldn't get so worked up about random people. Before you know it we'll be out on the Sunseeker, fishing and eating crab for dinner." Logan says

"Promise?" You ask

"Promise."

Part Two

[aemondloverr]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace

��𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. sorryyy :p

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

“Mother? You sent for me?”

Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment

“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”

She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you

“I have something to discuss with you.”

Oh no

You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.

You approach the chair nervously and sit.

She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.

“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”

You smile at the mention of fond memories.

Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.

A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret

“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”

“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.

Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest

“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”

“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you

“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”

You stare, expectantly

“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”

What…??

“But mother…”

She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest

“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”

“But Cregan…you know what he did…”

You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .

Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.

“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”

“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”

“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”

“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated

Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks

“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”

“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“

She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender

“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”

“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling

Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.

“Yes, my love. For the realm…”

She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing

“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”

*****

Later that evening at supper

The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.

Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face

Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow

“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.

Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.

*****

Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.

At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family

She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding

"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.

"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."

A pause.

"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."

There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.

Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama

He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern

"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"

Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.

"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."

“At least let me go with her“

"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.

“Mother you can’t just-”

Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling

“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”

You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.

Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent

As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door

“Enter”

Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern

"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"

“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags

His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."

“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.

"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."

“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”

Jace nods, his expression serious once more

"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."

“What are you saying Jace.”

Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."

“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.

"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"

You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”

He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”

You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”

Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.

“Fine.”

He shuts the door with force.

You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.

*****

For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.

The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.

Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.

“I will see you in few weeks time.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.

"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."

You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.

"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

“No promises…”

Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks

"I don't want you to go."

Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.

"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."

Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears

“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads

"You'll come back, right? You promise?"

“I promise.”

Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.

"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."

Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.

"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.

Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.

“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go

“Just come back in one piece.”

“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.

You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.

The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.

PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife

[shyhaya]

Hii! Can i plzzzplz request hcs/ or scenario of Barou,Rin, Kunigami and isagi liking the manager of their schools soccer team :DD???

Hi darling, here's your request! please forgive me for taking so long

──────♡──────

Oh Wait, Am I In Love? [Barou Shoei, Itoshi Rin, Kunigami Rensuke & Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader / SFW]

❯── Barou ──❮

What an interesting situation.

I don't think he would notice his own feelings towards you until he's in too deep.

His teammates certainly noticed before him but they were all scared of telling him anything.

Nevertheless, maybe he heard them talking about his 'soft' if we can call it that attitude towards you.

He did treat you like a peasant, like everyone else, but he actually listened to you when you talked.

Plus, you got to be around him and even tease him sometimes and not even once he reacted brashly towards you!

Everyone in the team is shocked.

When he finally realizes this fact, his entire view of you changed slightly.

Now he understood why he tolerated your presence and even liked to hang out with you.

He was a bit clueless on how to approach you on this topic, but he's driven by the thought of possibly having even more of your attention.

Congratulations! You've been promoted from useful peasant to the King's consort! :3

──────♡──────

❯── Rin ──❮

This one's tough.

Rin can be dense sometimes, but he was the first one to realize he fancied you.

It wasn't even obvious to anybody else, but he noticed the slight changes. How he found you attractive and not a lukewarm like the others.

He liked your advice and actually followed it, and your presence always helped him concentrate or not during practice and even real games.

But what is Rin Itoshi if not a stubborn brat?

He wouldn't tell you about his feelings right away.

If someone notices his almost kind attitude towards you he would deny it or just say it isn't anyone's business.

Soon though, he gets jealous of the rest of team because they're all nice and close to you.

This would be enough for the dam he built to contain his feelings to break.

He had a feeling you liked him too, so there's no way he's letting you go.

Good luck.

──────♡──────

❯── Kunigami ──❮

Oh, Rensuke baby, love, honey- I'll stop now.

He's clueless at first.

You're really nice to everyone, so he naturally gets along with you.

He doesn't find different how he's soon hanging out with you often he's like a big puppy!

During practice he's focused and still can't help but to glance at your direction, finding you adorable as you watch the practice match and how your eyes sparkle as they meet his.

Every time someone from the team mentions you, he immediately perks up.

His teammates realize this and they are the ones who make him realize.. he did like you, but in a whole different way than the rest of them did.

After that he gets a bit flustered every time you're close or when you get worried if he gets hurt during a game or practice.

He's an honest guy though, so he would tell you. No beating around the bush.

He's hopeful that you'll accept him, and can't wait to have you his own I accept my love, I'll even marry you if you want-

──────♡──────

❯── Isagi ──❮

Man, he realized his feelings for you fast.

He was kinda clueless at first, but after analyzing your interactions and how he couldn't help but to admire you, he accepted he was smitten.

He's the one who's all flustered when you're being your usual kind self and asking him if he's alright.

Stutters a bit more and is distracted by how pretty you are.

It's adorable how he tries to act normal but he's also trying to compliment you and maybe give you some clues about how he feels.

All of his teammates notice this and soon they're all teasing him every time they see him looking at you during practice.

He wants to test the waters first, figure out if you like him before he confesses.

If he notices even a slight chance of you liking him back, then he will take the chance. It's what s striker does anyway.

He's so sweet when he actually tells you.

Please say yes, this guy spent all night thinking of all the possible scenarios of how his confesión would go.

[jpitha]

Hunting

It is unlikely that humans are the only predator species to achieve sapience in the galaxy.

In order to be a successful predator one has to be intelligent enough to learn your prey's movements and be able to think ahead to what they're going to do next but also be flexible enough in your thinking that you can improvise if the situation chances. If you don't have this elasticity, you won't be a very successful predator.

Humans are very successful predators.

****

Greg bent down low and spoke as quietly as he could to the worried Sefigan next to him. "I need you to stay as still as you can. I'm going to go around, and try and surprise the Gren guarding the exit."

The three Sefigans, caught between wanting to obey Greg and staying silent but also trying to communicate that they thought it was suicide to do so started shaking.

"No, no, it'll be fine. I've been watching him. He's not really paying attention." Greg stood silently and put one finger to his lips, then smiled.

Moving much quieter than one would think given his mass, Greg crept away, hunched down just a little to keep motion out of the tops of the bushes they used to hide. The Sefigans watched in horrified fascination as Greg would take a few steps and then freeze, not even breathing while he watched the Gren.

As he walked, he made no noise at all over the soft sand, his feet finding purchase slowly. The Sefigans, a small furry prey species from a rocky mountainous world felt very old fears from the most early parts of their brains while watching him hunt the Gren.

The Gren guard was panning slowly as he guarded the exit, his fur flat, his eyes dull and his mouthparts drooping. If one knew a bit about Gren physiology one could easily see that he was bored and tired. His shift wasn't due to end for another 3 demi-cycles and nothing usually ever happened on this exit.

When Greg was no more than 2 meters away, he reached down and picked up a stone, no larger than a comm badge. He raised his arm and in one silent fluid motion, tossed the stone high and far over his head, to hide its origin. It clattered against the wall on the far side of the pen, opposite to where Greg was standing. The noise and motion caught the Gren's eye and his whole body swung over to where the stone landed.

His back was turned to Greg.

Greg bent his legs low building energy and took two steps and lept onto the Gren's back. His higher mass bowled the taller but much lighter Gren over and the Gren's head hit the stone with a hollow thwack.

Greg jumped up off the Gren and checked him quickly. He was dead. Trotting quickly over to where the Sefigans were still hiding he motioned for them to follow.

Still terrified, they followed this... ambush predator they were scared of and by the time they reached him, he had gotten the comm out of the Gren's pack and was fiddling with a ring that had complicated studs all around it, fitting them against the door until one clicked and the door hissed open.

Minutes later they were all running across the desert to the canal below where they had hoped to cling to the side of a barge and float to the spaceport.

"Human Greg! Human Greg!" The smallest Sefigan called as they jogged down the sandy hill towards the canal.

"What is it Li? Can it wait?"

"That was amazing! I've never seen a human hunt before! Is that how they all do it?"

"Not really? Humans developed as persistence hunters, not ambush hunters, but as you well know, skills can be taught."

"Persistence hunter?"

"Yeah, my ancestors would pick an animal out of a herd and run after it. As long as we didn't overexert ourselves we could just... run until it died."

The three Sefigans looked at each other as they jogged. Greg wasn't breathing heavily as they went towards the canal, but all three of them were nearly at their limit and would need a long time to rest when they were safe.

"Human Greg, you scare us." The tallest Sefigan looked back at the holding compound and then back at Greg. "But, not as much as we were scared of what the Gren would have done to us."

Greg smiled showing his wide, large, white teeth. "In this world, sometimes you need to be scary." He looked at the canal. "Come on, the water isn't too cold, let's get in and swim towards that barge. It's not too far."

[l0sercat]

NSFW alphabet with/ Logan Howlett

A/N: I have only seen Deadpool and Wolverine so I'm going off of that. I'm going to watch the X-Men movies later, but I can't wait any longer to write for him....So if this is ooc please forgive me 😭🙏🏻 Also MDNI!!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He'll carry you to the bathroom and run the bath and let you do your thing. He'll grab a beer and nurse it and when you call for him, he goes and carry you back to the bedroom. He'll put on a movie and hold you in his arms 'til you'll fall asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands because they fit so nicely on your throat while he's fucking you into your shared bed. He loves your thighs, he loves to be suffocated by them. He loves when he's eating you out and your perfect soft plush thighs squeeze around his head.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to cum inside you. He loves the intimacy of it. He'll grab your hips and shoot his load deep inside you followed by a deep growl. But if you don't want him to cum inside he is okay with doing it anywhere you want him too!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to sit on his face. Doesn't matter what you weigh. When he says sit he means sit. Don't even worry about "crushing" him he can handle it. If he needs to breathe he'll just lift you up for a sec and then set you back down.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Yeah he knows what he is doing. He'll have you on your third orgasm while he only cummed once. He just loves to watch you cum undone!!

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He'll be in control every second of it. He just loves how he gets to see every inch of your body while he thrust's up into you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He keeps it more serious unless something unexpected happens like your leg cramping because of a certain position he might chuckle, but that's about it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

There is hair and you could call it a bush except that Logan actually keeps it's nice and clean. And he'll occasionally trim it just to tame it, because he doesn't want his pubic hair in your mouth while your gagging on his cock. Now the hair is dark and kinda curly but the hair isn't thick.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Depending on his mood he can be very loving and attentive to your needs. Or he can be rough and just shove your head into the mattress while he pounds into you from behind.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate often and if he did it's because he got hard and it won't go away. Also he hates when he cums and it gets all over his hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

#1 biter! He loves to bite you especially on your neck and thighs. He loves marking you because it shows everyone that your taken. He also loves tying you up or handcuffing you to the bed. There is just something about seeing you helpless and bound at his mercy that gets him going.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom or Living room!! Something private so Wade can't try to get a sneak peak(he'll still find a way or press a ear against the door) Also he just doesn't want to have to worry about anyone seeing you naked and in a vulnerable position.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing and smelling how much you need him. Hearing you beg for him to fuck with a little pout and then smelling how wet you are for him. It overwhelms his senses.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could seriously hurt you. Example, he would never use his claws to write his name on you. He may bring them out to lightly trace over your skin, but that's it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to give but he loves to receive. He just loves the sounds that come out of your mouth when his tongue explores your insides.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends how he is feeling that day. If he was jealous from whatever that day your getting fucked hard and fast. If he's tired your getting fucked sloppy and slow.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He enjoys them from time to time. He prefers taking his time and ruining you, but quickies are nice when your horny and have to be somewhere soon.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is willing to take risks here and there. Wanna fuck in a public bathroom sure. Want to top him you, can sure as hell try. Just don't ask him to have sex in the bar bathroom. Cause he will not be doing that, it's too fucking gross in there lol.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can last forever, joking. But he can last for hours. As long as your not tired and want to keep going he is not gonna stop. He will go day and night if able to keep up with him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he would own a pair of handcuffs and maybe a blindfold and bondage rope. I don't see him owning much lol. If you want to use other toys he will hesitate, and might agree to use them depending on what you suggest.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease until your crying and begging for him. He will kiss and lick away your precious tears. He loves you but seeing you begging for him is just so hot <3

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is vocal to an extent. He will grunt, growl, curse, and let out the occasional moans. When he finishes in you he curses your name and then lets out a little growl.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Occasionally if your okay with it he'll let Wade join/watch but Logan is giving the instructions on what he can do. And if Wade is getting on his nerves he is kicking him out lol.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I wanna say 7 inches long and thick so it stretches you out. The tip is a light red and it's circumcised. The base is a bit later than his skin. As I said earlier his pubic hair is dark and curly.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He isn't horny every second and doesn't think about sex often. But if your horny he's ready to go. Whenever you want to fuck he's almost always down to fuck.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As soon as your taken care of and comfortable in his arms and have fallen asleep, he'll finally close his eyes and sleep.

[transit-fag]

Interviewing George Bush,

"How the fuck do you sleep at night after all you have done, don't you just wish that you could get hit by a train and stop having to worry about the consequences of your actions?"

I press a button on a remote

"Well great news, we redirected a train directly towards your house, it's coming for you <3, now stay still you fucking bastard"

[hedgehog-moss]

In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.

I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.

I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.

You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:

When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?

Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.

We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)

On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.

(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)

It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.

I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.

Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.

Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.

I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.

... where is Pampe?

Oh. Here. No worries!

Still staring at the road. Still thinking.

...

With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.