#night curfew advantages

[too-deviant]

The three weeks it took for Luke Castellan’s wounds to heal.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke comes back from his quest defeated and angry, and refuses to let anyone see him. But he still needs tending to. You are the lucky sucker who gets to do so.

Content: post-quest angsty luke, reader is awkward, i use the word under’t at one point because i think im shakespeare or some shit

Word Count: 7.6k

Notes: Pushing the agenda that lukes scar is gnarrly like it’s nasty !! not just some faint lil line. the boy was attacked by an actual dragon, like pls. also this hasn’t been proofread so sorry if it doesn’t make sense

part two

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The spring that Luke Castellan spent on his quest was a strange one for the residents of Camp Half-Blood.

For years, campers knew who to go to whenever they needed advice. When they needed help. They knew who to direct the new campers to when they stumbled over the boundary line — and knew they were in good hands. Luke’s hands. He was the big brother the whole camp needed, and not just because he was older than most of them. He just had that aura — and he was undoubtedly kind to everyone he came across. Not to mention the guy was insane with a sword, and had this boyish charm that anyone would fall for. Most campers, if not all of them, looked up to Luke Castellan.

So when he left, nobody knew what to do.

It was pretty tame at first, mostly just awkward. Especially in the Hermes cabin, with Chris Rodriguez in charge in his brother's absence. A Hephaestus kid had taken over the sword fighting classes Luke usually ran, which proved to do more harm than good because he wasn’t all that great at using a sword than he was at forging them, and most of Luke’s students were already better than him.

But nothing went wrong — at least for the first week.

But after the initial awkwardness wore off, chaos ensued.

Chris couldn’t keep the Hermes kids in check — once they realised he wasn’t as authoritative as Luke, they began to use it to their advantage. Everyone got pranked, the camp store was raided three times before Chiron decided to close it down for the meantime and dishwashing duty every night was not slowing them down.

You hadn’t realised just how much the camp relied on Luke until he wasn’t there to keep things under control. Fights broke out with nobody to step in between them, and more and more kids were showing up to the infirmary with injuries that they could take care of themselves — something Luke would’ve told them to do instead of bothering you and your siblings. It was actually unbelievable how much a group of about a hundred half-gods relied on the steady hand of one seventeen year old boy.

You couldn’t wait until he got back so you could finally get some peace and quiet.

Luke didn’t return to camp for two and a half weeks, and as the days went by, campers began to get uneasy. Nobody knew what his quest had entailed, or where he had to go, so the longer they went without news the more antsy people got. You didn’t speak to Luke much — maybe a few shared sentences to be polite — but you knew what he was capable of. You tried your best to reassure the campers, as did your brother Lee and the rest of the Cabin Counsellors.

You knew Luke would come back. You knew he would stumble down that hill with his head held high and meet the group of campers waiting for him at the bottom. You knew there would be a celebration, a party, and a lot of kids out past curfew. But you knew Chiron would let it off, because Luke Castellan was back.

Except that’s not what happened. At all.

It was a warm day, and you were helping some of your younger siblings make friendship bracelets by the lake. Your camp shirt clung to the sweat on your back and you peeled it off with a grimace whenever you stood, straightening out your shorts and checking on the next kid. They seemed happy enough to be in the sun — really, you should’ve been too. Child of Apollo and all. But apparently your father wasn’t feeling the love for you today, because while the rest of your siblings were thriving, you were seconds away from jumping into the lake just to cool down — even if it pissed off the Naiads.

Thankfully, when you stood up once more and looked over the horizon, you saw your brother Aden jogging towards you. You took the opportunity to hide under the shade of the trees by meeting him halfway, and greeted him with a breathless, “Hey.”

He spoke your name with a nod and a smile, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, “Chiron needs you in the Big House. Looked serious. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh, Okay.” You nodded, turning to the kids and telling them you’d be back as soon as you could, before marching your worn converse through the grass and up to where the house sat on the edge of the hill.

Chiron was in the doorway when you reached the porch, sat in wheelchair form and wearing a grim look. You paused, worried. He nodded at you, “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Usually I wouldn’t do this, but…desperate times. Follow me.”

You followed as he led you down the hall, brows furrowing, “What's going on? Is everything okay?”

He looked at you with a serious expression, saying your name lowly, “I need you to ensure that what I am about to tell you will never leave the walls of this house. Nobody needs to know about this until we have deemed it appropriate.”

“Of course.” You said immediately, folding your arms. You weren’t so warm anymore. “What happened?”

He straightened up, and stared, “Luke Castellan is back from his quest.”

That was not what you expected him to say. Dropping your arms to your side and stepping forward slightly, “What? Since when?”

“Ten minutes ago, give or take.” He replied, brows in a concerned furrow, “Mr D has taken him upstairs. He is injured.”

“Right.” You nodded, “I’ll go and—“

“Wait, child.” You stopped, one foot on the bottom step of the stairs, looking back at him, “You must know something.”

Chiron took in a deep breath, eyes glossed over like whatever he was about to say weighed heavily on him, “He is…not in good condition. On top of his injuries, Luke is unfortunately…not in a good state of mind. His quest has affected him, and he requested quite adamantly that nobody should see him until he is ready to see them. I will respect his wishes, of course, but he will still need someone to tend to his wounds. That will be you.”

“Me?” You’d never shared a full conversation with the guy. Maybe some small talk, a polite smile here and there, but you were hardly acquainted, let alone friendly. You told him this.

“Exactly my point.” Was his reply, head held high, “Luke does not want to talk to anyone at the moment, and I’m sure if any of his friends were to be up there, they would simply coddle him. You, on the other hand…”

“I’m a stranger.” You nodded, “Of course. Right. I get that. So, you just want me to patch him up, act like it never happened? I can do that.”

“Not exactly, my child.”

You raised a brow.

“Luke’s injuries are quite extensive. He will need around the clock care until he is healed enough. He will also need someone to bring him food, clean clothes.”

“Oh, so you want me to nanny him.”

He chuckled, but it faded just as quickly as it came, “Unfortunately, he needs it.”

You pursed your lips. It didn’t seem all that hard — it was just like having any other camper in the infirmary. Only this one, everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting for, and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone he was a mere fifty feet away from them, curled up in a bed in the Big House.

No biggie.

i. WEEK ONE

Chiron had ushered you up the steps as soon as your conversation was over, and given you directions to the room Luke was in. Your steps were slow and unsure — you’d never been this far into the Big House before, but Mr D stood idly outside one of the doors lining the second floor hallway, arms crossed and face taut. The floorboards creaked under the weight of your foot when you reached the landing, and he looked up at you.

“He’s in there.” He pointed to the door in front of him, “Careful, he’s a short fuse right now. All the medical thingamabobs you need are in there already. Keep your mouth shut about this.”

Then he slid past you and down the stairs without another word, and you were left alone in the empty hall. Blinking hard to clear your head, you stood a few measly steps toward the door, stopping just outside of it and leaning your ear against the wood.

Nothing tangible. Mostly just the scraping of wood against the skin of your ear, and once you had stopped moving, there was nothing. No mutters, no bed creaks, not even a sniffle. It unnerves you, but you wrapped a hand around the cold metal of the handle and turned it anyway.

Maybe it was because he had been gone for a while, or maybe it was because you never saw him that much when he was around, but you had to blink away the shock at Luke’s appearance. Minus the obvious injuries, he just looked different. His skin was tanned and rough, his jaw taut and his hair hanging messily over his forehead, longer bits curling around his ears after going uncut for so long.

He was sitting on the edge of a bed that had been tucked into the corner of the room. There was a window just above it, but a thin curtain had been pulled over it and blocked out the sunlight that was begging to shine on you. The room was dark, but light enough that you could see what you were doing when you walked over to the desk in the other corner and started shuffling through the medical supplies Chiron had left there for you. Not much, but enough for now. You could always get more later.

Turning, you finally made your way over to where Luke was hunched over, staring at nothing. When you entered his line of vision, his dark eyes slid up to yours, and he blinked. Then he sighed, straightened his back and gave you a look that said do what you have to do and then get out.

But you didn’t move, not for at least ten seconds. Because while Chiron had told you he was injured extensively, he didn’t mention the five inch long scar that ran down the side of his face, cutting through his eye. It was jagged and gnarly, sharp edges carving a path through his skin. It was red all around, and just from looking at it you could tell it needed work. It was fairly new, but he had left it long enough for it to heal over — a thin layer of skin stopping it from bleeding.

He raised his eyebrows at you impatiently, and you nodded, scooting back to the desk and grabbing what you needed before going back to where he sat.

“I, uh…I need to get closer.” You were afraid to speak, to break the silence of the room, but you did need to get closer to his face. You waited for him to turn slightly to his left, hitch a leg up on the mattress and face his scar in your direction. Instead, he just slid his legs apart, inviting you to step between them.

And so you did, albeit a little shakily. You didn’t know Luke well enough to consider him a friend, but you’d seen enough of him to know that he never acted like this. He was never this quiet — all eyes, slow movements. He was charming, always grinning, always offering a hand. His battle instincts and ADHD made him fidgety like the rest of them, but from where you stood between his thighs, he was as still as a picture. It unnerved you more than the scar on his face did. You’d seen nasty injuries before, you’d never seen this.

You picked up a gauze, doused it in rubbing alcohol, and started wiping the area. You started on the outskirts, but when you pressed over the edge of the injury, his brows twitched and you let out a weak apology before lessening the grip. You kept your breaths thin and your eyes on your hand, but he wasn’t looking at you anyway. He had drifted off again, staring at nothing, and you were scared to break him out of his stupor again.

“He’s a short fuse.” Mr D had said. But he didn’t seem that way right now, sitting back silently and letting you do your work on his face. He wasn’t much of anything, if you had to make an assessment. You really wanted to know what happened on his quest, and why he was gone for so long, but you also didn’t want to test Mr D’s words by asking.

“What happened?” He didn’t say anything, again. You pressed on, “I sort of need to know before I reopen it…just in case something—“

“A dragon.” He murmured at once. His voice was rough, like he’d just been screaming. Maybe he had been, and that’s why Mr D had warned you. But it seemed all his anger had dissipated in the time it took for Chiron to get you and explain the situation. Maybe. “Ladon. Poisonous bites.”

So he had been to the Garden of the Hesperides. Presumably to collect some Golden Apples. What for, you didn’t know. You weren’t going to ask. You just grabbed a scalpel, muttered a quiet, “This is going to hurt.”, and started cutting down the scar, following its path across his cheek.

Luke hissed hard, not expecting you to dive in so suddenly, and his hand reached out for something to grab. That ended up being your camp shirt, bunching at your waist from where he gripped it between his knuckles. You didn’t mind it, but when you put the scalpel down and started to clean the inside of his wound, he adjusted his hand so he was holding the side of your waist instead, eyes clamped shut and feet tapping the wooden floor. You paused momentarily, but you couldn’t let him breathe or else it would just hurt more when you went back to work, so you brushed it off and continued your rampage down his face until the whole wound was free of the dirt and grime he had let accumulate inside it while he travelled back to Long Island.

“Sorry.” You finally built up the courage to say.

“S’Okay.” He breathed, “My fault.”

You wiped it over one last time before taping a bandage over the top. You cut it into two bits so he could still see out of his left eye, before stepping back from between his legs and assessing your work. Once you had deemed it good enough, you picked up your supplies and headed back to the desk, feeling Luke’s hand fall from your side.

“Uh—“ You really wanted to leave the room now, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but how long did you leave—“

“Three days.” He answered quickly. Chiron had probably already asked him that, and you felt stupid for making him repeat it.

You turned to leave, but then remembered what Chiron had said to you before sending you up to Luke’s room. You looked at him.

“Do you need anything from your cabin?” You asked, “It’s, uh, kind of my job to get that, if you do.” You turned to face him fully, “Oh, and are you hungry? Because I have to—“

“Just some clean clothes, thanks.” He quipped. It wasn’t looking like he wanted you around for much longer.

You were quick to leave.

It was hard coming up with an excuse as to why you were stealing clothes from Luke Castellan’s bunk, but you just told them there was a new camper in the Big House and Chiron had run out of spares that morning. They brushed it off, and you ran back up to Luke with the clothes bunched in your arms, and were breathless by the time you dropped them on the bed beside him.

“Did anyone see you?” He asked just as you were about to give him the privacy he needed to change.

You were facing the door when he asked, and turned to answer, but he was already pulling off the marred camp shirt he’d arrived in, revealing his very toned torso. You paused, eyes drifting, but quickly snapped them back up to his awaiting gaze. He didn’t seem to care that he was shirtless in front of you, but neither did most boys.

“No.” You weren’t sure how he would react if you’d told him the truth, even though it was harmless. He nodded and started to unbutton his cargos, and you were quick to turn back to the door and yank it open, “Okay, I’ll…uh, probably be back at…later. Bye.”

The rest of your week was rough to say the least. You had a lot on your plate, and it didn’t help when your siblings kept wondering why you were at the Big House three times a day and why you always made a second plate of food at mealtimes. Eventually, it got around that a new camper had arrived, and you were taking care of them. That's when the rumour mill started running.

“I heard they were older, like twenty or something. Apparently they’re super embarrassed.”

“Well, I heard they were injured super badly on their way into camp, and that’s why nobody’s seen them yet.”

“I heard they got violent when Chiron explained the demigod thing and now they have him locked away in the basement!”

So yeah, lots on your plate. You did little to dispel the rumours, not wanting to allude to the truth accidentally, but when you were the only one who knew the truth, it was difficult to hide from those who wanted it too.

But after a few days, you had developed a routine. Wake up, get breakfast, take food to Luke. Check his dressings while he ate and restock your med supplies if needed. Go to whatever task you were running that day, ignore anyone who asked about the new camper, go for lunch. Take lunch to Luke. Check his dressings. Dismiss curious campers. Go to dinner. Take dinner to Luke. Check his dressings. Dismiss curious campers. Lead the campfire sing-along. Check on Luke one more time. Go to bed.

It was a lot, to say the least. But you didn’t complain — if you did this top secret doctor work right, Chiron might make you cabin counsellor when your older sister Alina leaves after this summer.

And just as you had, Luke eased into the routine too. Every time you entered his room, with a polite knock, he would be perched on the side of his bed, legs open and inviting.

You wondered if he actually did this for you, or if he just never moved from that position.

Sunday morning was slightly different — as camp activities were more relaxed and you had more time on your hands. You strolled slowly to the Big House after breakfast — rather than your usual sprint so you weren’t late to Archery — and knocked politely on the door before cracking it open and heading for the desk. With a plate of food in one hand and a fresh bandage in the other, you made your way over to where Luke sat, readying yourself for another quiet twenty minutes of work. It was quite peaceful, now that you’d gotten used to it. More comfortable, less awkward.

“Hi.”

You blinked, almost dropping what you held, but Luke was there to grab the bandage from your hand as your grip loosened in your shock. He attempted a smile, but winced when it pulled at his scar, and chose to nod at you instead.

“Uh…” You put the plate down into the bedside table, straightening your shirt, “Hi.”

He’d never said hi before.

He didn’t say anything else after that, just let you do what you did, but your mind remained a whirlwind. He said hi. That’s a completely normal thing for him to do, and yet you were reeling from it.

Once you had changed his dressings, you headed for the door and allowed him to eat his breakfast. Your hand wrapped around the metal of the handle and turned it, pulling open the wooden door and stepping one foot into the hall before the voice sounded again.

“Bye.”

You chuckled this time, not looking back, “Bye.”

ii. WEEK TWO

It was an average morning, the blistering sun from last week finally fading and allowing you to walk comfortably outside. You never knew what your dad’s problem with you was last week, but you suspected that it had something to do with the cabin counsellor who slept on the second floor of the Big House with a bandage across his eye.

Like usual, you were heading up the stairs, breakfast plate in hand, ready to give your first checkup of the day. If Luke was healing like he should’ve been, you wouldn’t have to change his dressing at lunch, and you were crossing your fingers that he was.

Pushing the door open with your back, you walked in slowly and headed towards the desk like usual. You grabbed the bandage, made your way over to Luke and put the plate down next to his small lamp. Then you straightened up and put the new bandage under your arm, holding it in place while you moved to unwrap his eye.

Before you could, however, Luke was pulling the bandage from where it was trapped against your ribcage and held it in his own hands. You looked at him, and he gave you a weak smile, “Thought it’d be easier if I held it for you.”

You murmured out a thanks and smiled at him, keeping it there even as you peeled back the old dressings and revealed his still healing scar. Usually, it wouldn’t take this long for a demigod wound to heal itself, but because Luke had gone so long without nectar or ambrosia — or any form of medical help, that is — it was in worse condition. You had to scrape out the infected skin from it a few days back, and it left Luke blinking hard to try and hide the tears.

Nowadays he seemed to be better — not as broody as he seemed last week. But you always caught him drifting off, staring at nothing. You wondered if he was reliving it, asking himself what would’ve changed had he done it differently. Your guess? Not much — you’d read up on Ladon the dragon after finding out it was he who caused Luke’s pain, just in case there was something you needed to know before starting the healing process. He was vicious, not even Hercules could get past him. And while Luke was the best swordsman camp had seen in three centuries, even he would struggle going at Ladon alone.

Once you had redressed his face, you stepped back like you always did, your footfalls sounding out the same metronome as they did three times a day. You wondered if you would wear a mark into the floor from your constant repeating path — door to the desk, desk to the bed, bed to the door. You briefly thought that wouldn’t be possible, something like that would take years to indent, but then you looked back at Luke — his forlorn expression, the bandage across his eye and the bags under’t — and wondered how long it would be before he could build the courage to stand up from the bed, return to a camp that relied so heavily on his skill set, and take the weight of his failure with him.

He pulled the plate onto his lap and you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so sad while stuffing their face with bacon.

“Hey, uh —“ You started, hand on the doorframe in an attempt to look casual. You couldn’t just leave him like that, right? “Do you…know — uh, know where the spare practising swords are kept?” A measly excuse, but it had him looking at you again.

He swallowed his food before speaking, “The wooden ones are in these old boxes in the back of weapon storage, but I think the celestial bronze ones are kept in the Hephaestus cabin now.”

You nodded, tapping your hand against the wood. That didn’t work in the way you wanted it to, but you weren’t going to force it. So you turned, went to open the door and leave —

“Why?”

Nevermind!

You whirled around — not too eagerly! You didn’t want to scare him off, now — “Oh! Uh, some Ares kid snapped one in half the other day, we needed a replacement.”

Luke nodded. Shit, say something else. Get him talking!

“Odd weather we’ve been having.”

What?

His lips parted, and he had the gall to look amused, “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, yeah.” You breathed, humiliated. You pressed your lips together, ready to give up, until a thought came to you, “Hey, you haven’t been outside in, like, a week.”

Luke nodded, shadows falling across his face like the mere mention of the fact that he hadn’t been outside was a painful reminder of his circumstances, “Yeah, I, uh, don’t think I want anyone to know that I’m back yet. Not until I’m healed, y’know?”

You knew. You also knew that probably wasn’t the only reason he refused to let anyone know he was safe in the Big House, but you didn’t say that.

“Right, but —“ A breathy chuckle, “You need, like, sunlight. Fresh air.”

“I don’t wanna risk it.”

“Ok.” And that was that. You said goodbye, left him to his own devices, and didn’t mention the sun thing again for two days.

It was on Wednesday that you finally gave in. Now that you’d put the thought in your own head, you kept noticing the effects that being cooped indoors was having on Luke. His skin, once tanned and glistening under the sun, was paling by the hour. He winced whenever he had to straighten his back, and even though his scar was healing nicely, he seemed to be more sensitive to the pain of it than he was a week earlier.

So on Tuesday night you formed a plan, and on Wednesday morning at breakfast you put it into action. It started with asking Lee — ever so casually, of course — what the activities schedule was looking like. He started yapping about their cabin, and you waited patiently for him to bring up the Amphitheatre. Then, when he said the Apollo kids were training at two, you said —

“I thought we trained at twelve on Wednesdays?”

“No, that’s Ares and Hephaestus.”

“Oh, but don’t they train at four?”

“No, Hermes and Athena train at four.”

“Then who trains at ten?”

“Nobody.”

Bingo.

Luke was halfway through pulling on a pair of shorts when you burst into the room. He jumped, yanking them up the rest of the way before turning to look at you — his face was a mix of shock and unbridled anger until he realised it was you, then it softened into something calmer. But you saw him, even for just a split second, and the animosity in his gaze made you take a quiet step back. It was fearful almost — you’d seen him annoyed, irritated. You’d even bore witness to the Carden Cross Hot Cross Bun Incident of 2002,

(Carden Cross was this fifteen year old Ares kid. He threw one too many hot cross buns at the Aphrodite table and a then-sixteen-year-old Luke had wrung him out in front of everyone.

Nobody had ever heard Luke raise his voice like that, and Carden avoided everyone for a week straight).

but you had never seen such indignation in his gaze. It was gone in a flash, and you could’ve told yourself it was never there, but it was. You were hit with the humbling realisation that whatever Luke had gone through on his quest was more damaging than you could ever imagine, and no amount of fresh air would change him back to who he was before.

That saddened you, but then you realised he was shirtless again and all morbid thoughts went straight out the window. You grinned at him, “Sorry. But we don’t have a lot of time.”

He stared at you, then at your hands that were empty of breakfast food or bandages, and asked, “Time for what?”

“For some fresh air!” You sang, throwing in some jazz hands as if they would wipe the hesitant frown that had graced his features, “Put some shoes on, let’s go!”

He said your name softly, “I can’t go outside.”

You straightened up from where you had leaned dramatically into the room and sent him a blank look, eyes still sparkling, “You can. I checked the schedule, the Amphitheatre is free from ten till twelve and it is currently…nine forty-five. If we hurry, we’ll miss the post-breakfast rush.”

Luke looked a little more at ease now, but he made no move to put his shoes on. His body twitched like he was thinking about it, but when he couldn’t come up with a valid excuse to get out of it, he sighed and nodded, “Alright. Doctors orders, I guess.”

“Awesome.” You smiled, “I’ll let you get ready.”

It took some convincing, even after you’d gotten him to follow you down the stairs, to get him out the door. But a few firm words (and a couple of threats) and he was basking in the morning sunlight just as you’d planned.

Well — more like squinting painfully. Turns out, after a week and a half in a dark room, it takes a minute to get used to the sunlight again. You ensured nobody was around and took the long way to the Ampitheatre, letting out a content sigh when you knew you were away from prying eyes. Luke seemed more relaxed already, and you could practically see his muscles getting looser.

“Damn.” He muttered, hand over his eyes, “I needed this.”

“Yeah.” You spoke over an unattractive snort, “I’m an Apollo kid, I know a Vitamin D deficiency when I’m looking at one.”

“Alright.” He rolled his eyes at you, amused, and moved towards the steps. He climbed up two before turning and sitting, leaning back on his elbows and blinking at the sky, “Think your dad made it extra sunny just for me?”

“Probably.” You smiled, standing in front of him — but still making sure you weren’t blocking the sun from his face. “After some convincing from your dad.”

Luke’s smile faded. His eyes remained closed but his hands tightened into loose fists, “I don’t think so.”

Now you were desperate to change the subject. Your eyes darted to the wall, and the rack of swords sitting in its usual spot, “Hey, wanna swing some bronze?”

“Gods.” He let out a rough laugh, and you grinned in satisfaction, “Swinging Bronze. Haven’t heard that in a while.”

You nodded, glad he was back to being somewhat happy, “We thought we were so cool.”

“We thought it’d catch on.”

You shared a laugh, and Luke peeked an eye open, looking at you, “How come we were never friends back then?”

A meek shrug, “We weren’t really friends until a couple of days ago. That's if you even count us as that now.”

He just kept looking at you, and his gaze burned into your skin. You stepped back, closer to the middle of the arena space, “We never really spoke.”

He looked at you as if he was thinking hard about what you said, and what he was gonna say next. Apparently he came up short, because seconds later he was clicking his tongue and pushing himself up, joining you in the middle of the arena, “Alright. Let’s swing some bronze.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. This was going well. He was outside, he was laughing, he was about to pick up a sword for the first time since he’d angrily thrown his own at the porch of the Big House when he got back a week and a half ago.

He handed you a wooden practice sword, and you raised a brow. Usually the wooden ones were for first-timers, or younger kids. He shrugged, you let it go.

Despite the fact that you and Luke had been at camp together for five years, you’d never actually gone one-on-one in a sword fight with him. It was rare that Apollo and Hermes were paired together for activities, since they were the two highest populated cabins, but even when Luke was running the practice he always picked the people he knew the best for demonstrations. You lingered at the back, watching.

So you were slightly nervous, but you also didn’t want to show it. Sure, on any normal day Luke would reassure you with kind eyes and that Luke Castellan Smile, but he wasn’t exactly himself right now. You swallowed down your nerves, matched his stance, and swung.

Best Sword Fighter in Three Hundred Years — not an exaggeration. His moves were swift, calculated, and he stayed calm the entire time. It was as if he knew everything you were going to do before you did it, and had three counterattacks on the back burner for when you would strike. Your swords clashed every time you made a move and suddenly you realised why he wanted you to use wooden swords — the clang of wood was a lot quieter than the clang of bronze, it was less likely anyone would hear you fighting. It made sense, but you couldn’t focus on that when he was practically parrying your thoughts with sweat dripping down his temple.

You held your own, though. You were quite impressed with yourself when you blocked his swipes and sidestepped his jabs. It was making him groan in frustration, and the edges of your mouth perked up. You didn’t realise how good you were at this.

Then Luke stumbled. He grunted, righted himself, and swung again. You blocked it, and he steadied his shoulders. You slowed, focusing on the way he heaved for breath, taking in gulps of air, while you were hardly breaking a sweat. The way he kept readjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword, and how his fingers shook on his free hand. He went for you again and you sidestepped him, making him trip up. He didn’t fall, but he did let out a long angry groan at his mistake, throwing the sword to the ground in frustration.

You flinched, “Luke.”

“This was a bad idea.” He snapped. He wasn’t looking at you, pacing up and down with his hands in his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“You’re still recovering —“ You tried to reason, but he wasn’t listening to you.

“I’m the best damn swordsman this camp has ever seen. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I do this? Why —“

“Luke.” You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at you, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He gritted through his teeth, “I fail one quest and suddenly I can’t do anything anymore? Yeah, that’s typical.”

You shook your head, “You just need time to get better.”

“I was better! Better than everyone else here, I —“ He paused, a faraway look in his eyes that unnerved you for a second before he was looking at you again, “I can hear people.”

You perked your ears up. He was right, you could hear the chatter of camp if you listened carefully enough — but it wasn’t anything to worry about. They were all doing their own tasks, far away from where they were. If someone was coming, it would be more clear. You told him that, but he shook his head.

“I need to go back. This was a bad idea.”

“Hey, it’s okay, we can go —“

“No, not we. Me.” He said firmly, a hard look in his gaze that he didn’t have before, “I’m going back. You’re staying here. And I’m never going anywhere with you again.”

iii. WEEK THREE

You hadn’t seen him in five days.

Chiron had pulled you out of Archery to ask about Luke — and why he had seen him storm angrily back into his room and lock the door. You just told him you thought it was best for him to find someone else to take care of him for the time being. You didn’t think Luke would want to see you again, ever.

All you wanted was for him to be his old self again. The guy you always saw helping out someone else with a smile on his face, the one who made others laugh and laughed with them. The one who waved at anyone who waved at him. The one who was completely oblivious to the flirting and just thought they were being friendly. The Luke Castellan who everyone gushed about, who everyone loved.

That man up there, with the scar on his face and the look in his eye, wasn't Luke Castellan. And maybe he never would be again, not completely. But he could come close — he could still smile, he could still laugh.

But you’d fucked all that up just by bringing him outside.

You didn’t know who Chiron had asked to replace you, because you never saw anyone else get up after breakfast with an extra plate. You didn’t see anyone sneaking out of the Hermes cabin with a pile of clothes. You stood in the fields for hours a day, watching those thin curtains stand stiff at the window, never to open. You thought you’d seen a shadow, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you.

The weekend came and went, and you spent the whole time worrying about Luke. Did this new person know that he preferred fatty bacon? Did they know that he liked keeping the curtains closed? Or would they just bring him a plate of pancakes? Ask him too many questions about his quest? Your mind whirred — would they make him worse?

No. That’s not what you were scared of.

Would they make him better?

Would they understand him more than you did? Would they coerce more words out of him? Would they even need to coerce him, or would he be comfortable holding a conversation with them no problem? What if he was better now than he ever had been with you?

You flinched when your name was called. Looking up from the bracelet you were crafting with some younger kids and meeting the eyes of Dionysus, “Sir.”

“Our, uh, special guest is requesting your presence.” He said with a stupid look on his face, “So get off your ass and get up there, I can’t stand his whining any longer.”

You did as asked with a slight roll of your eyes that made the six year old who was next to you giggle into their hands. It brought a grin to your otherwise down expression, unsure of what Luke wanted to say to you.

The room was dark when you cracked the door open — there was no response after you knocked, but you could hear him shuffling inside, so you went ahead and opened it an inch. It was a lot darker than it used to be — or maybe you too had gotten used to the shade after spending so much time there.

You pushed it open more, and there he was, in his usual spot on the edge of the bed. Head down, hands fiddling with something by his eye. He was muttering in frustration, and you stepped into the room in concern. The floor creaked, he looked up, and you gasped.

The side of his face where his scar sat was red with blood — you almost missed the bandage he was attempting to tie around it because it had been stained pink. His fingers were shaking and he pursed his trembling lips at you, “I can’t do it.”

You surged forward, immediately taking the fabric from his hands. He let them drop into his lap as you peeled it back and looked at the damage. You winced — not as bad as the blood had made it seem, but bad enough. The wound had reopened at the top, and the blood was dripping into his eye and along the curve of his jaw.

It took a few panicky minutes, but eventually the bleeding had stopped, Luke’s face was clean of blood, and you were staring at him in shock, your own fingers still red from the damage. He was avoiding your eyes, the only other thing he’d said to you being a strained thank you when you had stepped back.

“What —“ You were at a loss.

“I tried to change them myself.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails, still not looking at you. “I’d watched you do it so many times, I figured I had it handled. Apparently I didn’t, because I woke up and it was freakin’ bleeding everywhere.”

“Oh, Luke.” You breathed, “Why didn’t you wait for someone to help you?”

“You never came back.” He said like it was obvious.

“What — so you’ve been doing this yourself for five days?” You asked, a shocked exclamation, “Chiron never sent someone else to help you?”

“He asked me who I wanted,” He shrugged, “I said you. You weren’t an option, so I did it myself.”

“You said —“

“I know what I said, alright?” He stressed, head in his hands now, “It was stupid. I was angry, hurt, whatever. It was at myself, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I don’t — “ His voice cracked, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“Luke.” You murmured. You took a step closer, kneeled before him, and gently pried his hands away from his eyes so he would look at you. His expression was so…sad. So distraught. “What happened on your quest?”

And he told you everything.

iv. THE AFTER

Luke was ashamed to admit it — but he had no idea what your name was when you started looking after him.

Sure, he’d seen you around. You were one of the Apollo kids who spent more time in the infirmary than on the archery fields, but he was too good at his job to get injured. Hence why he didn’t know your name. He knew your face, he smiled at you and you would smile back. He was friendly with your brother, Lee. But that was about it.

That’s what made it so perfect.

You wouldn’t ask him about his quest. You wouldn’t try your hardest to get him to open up. You would do your job, and leave him to mope. That was all he wanted.

Until he learned your name.

And just from glancing at your smile — all awkward and nervous as you introduced yourself — he knew he wanted to be near you. He knew you were the type of person he could sit in silence with and walk away from it with a happy memory.

He thought he knew enough about you to determine who you were to him (a stranger). But he didn’t know your name, your voice, he didn’t know your touch or your smile — the real one you give when someone truly makes you laugh. Not the one he thought he knew.

He stood stiffly on the porch of the Big House — three weeks was all it took before Mr D was kicking him out, telling him to get a grip and face the music. Luke was ready; physically. His scar was nothing but that — a memory, faded into his skin forever. There was no other reason for him to keep himself hidden other than the fact that he wanted to. If it was up to him, nobody would ever bear the burden of seeing him ever again.

For weeks he told himself that his quest was pointless. He screamed it at the gods, at Chiron, at you. He cursed his dad every night for sending him on a path to failure and not even acknowledging it. He cursed himself for ruining the first chance he had at gaining his fathers pride in seventeen years — he sat in the dark, fists clenched, and asked himself what it was all for.

The five years on the run, the endless monster attacks, the relentless training, the offerings, the prayers. Would his life be any better had he just let that first monster kill him?

No. Because he wouldn’t have met Thalia, or Annabeth. He wouldn’t have seen the brighter side of being a halfblood — he wouldn’t have met his siblings, he wouldn’t have found his calling. He wouldn’t have experienced the joy of helping a new camper, of being the guiding hand he never got to hold.

But what of his quest? His mission for his father brought nothing but pain — a pointless trip, a humiliating failure, a deep jagged scar. For weeks he asked himself why he was given the quest in the first place, and for years to come he will question himself each and every day.

But each and every day he asks himself what the gods had ever given him, he would be reminded of the day he learnt your name. And he would tell himself had he not taken that trip, had he not fallen to Ladon, he never would have felt the searing touch of your fingertips on his skin.

So maybe it was worth it after all.

He stepped off the porch.

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should be seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him as the other went to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE PRINCESS AND THE DRIVER PT.2| MV1

an: ahh i'm really enjoying writing this dynamic, although this isn't set in the victorian era. i am a SUCKER for historial romance so this feels very similiar.

wc: 5.5k

part one

Two nights later, under the cover of darkness, the princess found herself slipping through the quiet halls of the palace again. She knew Lukas had warned her not to sneak out, but the pull to return to the track was stronger than the caution in her mind. She missed the feeling of freedom, the wind against her face, and—though she hadn’t admitted it to herself fully yet—Max’s easy company. The memory of the last race, of his smile, of the way she’d felt like a completely different person, made her restless.

She had to go back.

The stable yard was silent, the smell of hay and leather heavy in the air. The familiar path to the hidden exit was just ahead, tucked behind the horses’ stalls. Her heart raced with excitement, and she moved quickly, eager to feel that surge of adrenaline again.

But as she reached the spot, her steps faltered.

The small gap in the stable wall—her secret exit—was blocked. Heavy wooden planks had been nailed across the opening, crisscrossing over the stones, sealing it shut.

Her stomach dropped. She stared at it in disbelief, her pulse quickening for all the wrong reasons now. She hadn’t been gone long—only two days—but someone had found out. Someone had noticed.

No... not someone.

As if summoned by her very thoughts, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.

“Princess,” came a familiar, deep voice.

She turned slowly, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The head of the royal guard, Commander Alfred, stood just a few feet away. His tall, imposing figure seemed to fill the space around them, his grey uniform stark against the soft, moonlit stable. His expression was calm, but there was a hardness in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t try this again,” Alfred said, his voice low but firm.

Her mouth went dry. Her mind scrambled for something to say, an excuse, anything, but nothing came. Instead, she just stood there, frozen, caught like a child sneaking out past curfew. The thrill of the night evaporated, replaced by a cold dread settling into her bones.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on this exit for a few days now,” Alfred continued, stepping forward with measured, deliberate steps. “I saw you the other night. I didn’t say anything, hoping you wouldn’t make it a habit. But here you are.”

Her throat tightened. “I just... I needed some air,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alfred studied her for a moment, his stern gaze softening ever so slightly. He let out a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a princess,” he said, his tone gentler now, but still unyielding. “The world outside these walls isn’t safe for you. There are risks you can’t see—people who would take advantage of you, who wouldn’t think twice about using your title against you. You can’t just... sneak out and pretend none of that matters.”

The weight of his words pressed down on her, heavier than her own guilt. She knew he was right. But that didn’t make it easier to swallow. All she had wanted was a few moments where she didn’t have to be the princess, where she could just be... herself. Not the heir, not the symbol of royal duty. Just a girl who liked racing karts and laughing with a stranger who didn’t know her name.

But now, even that small slice of freedom was being taken away.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

Alfred nodded once, his face unreadable. “Go back to your room, Your Highness,” he said, his tone final. “It’s late.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. There was no arguing with Alfred, not when he was right. Slowly, defeated, she turned and walked back toward the palace, her heart heavy with disappointment.

As she crossed the yard and disappeared into the dim halls of the palace, she felt the sting of tears building behind her eyes. She blinked them back, forcing herself to hold it together until she reached her room.

Once inside, the silence of her chambers was deafening. The weight of everything—the closed exit, Alfred’s disapproving words, the suffocating sense of responsibility—pressed down on her all at once.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, burying her face in her hands as the tears finally came.

She hadn’t realised just how much she needed that escape until it was taken away from her. The walls of the palace suddenly felt smaller, closing in on her, trapping her in a life she wasn’t sure she could keep living. The image of the boarded-up exit flashed in her mind, a cruel reminder that her freedom, however small, had been ripped away.

She curled up on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest as the sobs wracked through her. The palace, her family, the expectations—it all felt too heavy, too impossible to carry. She thought about Max, the thrill of the track, the brief joy she’d found in being someone else, and how, for a few short hours, it had made her feel alive again.

But now, that world seemed farther away than ever. Untouchable.

The tears kept coming, long after the moon had risen high in the sky. And when she finally stopped crying, the exhaustion weighed her down like a blanket, pulling her into a restless sleep.

For the next few days, she didn’t leave her room. She couldn’t bring herself to face anyone, not even Lukas, who she knew had done everything he could to protect her secret. She felt numb, lost in the overwhelming sense of disappointment that she couldn’t shake.

No one came to question her absence from meals or the usual royal duties. Maybe they thought she was unwell—sick with some quiet illness that kept her hidden away. In a way, she was.

Because now, more than ever, she felt like a prisoner in her own life.

Days had turned into a week, and she still hadn't left her room.

At first, her absence had gone unnoticed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to retreat after the long banquets, charity events, and royal meetings that often took up her time. The palace staff had simply assumed she was taking a break, maybe indulging in some much-needed rest.

But as the days dragged on, it became clear that something wasn’t right.

She barely ate. Meals delivered to her chambers sat untouched on the tray by her door. The curtains remained drawn tight, shutting out the warm autumn sunlight, and her once neat and orderly space had become a mess of discarded clothes and rumpled sheets. The sparkle that usually lit up her presence had dimmed, buried under a weight that no one could see but everyone felt.

Her ladies-in-waiting whispered among themselves, their voices low as they passed in the corridors. They traded worried glances, unsure of what to do. Should they call the Queen? Inform the King? She had never stayed hidden away like this before—not like this. Even when she needed space, she always re-emerged, ready to face her responsibilities. But now, the princess seemed... lost.

Her mother was the first to express concern openly.

One afternoon, as the palace staff hurried about preparing for a royal dinner, the Queen stopped one of her ladies-in-waiting in the hall. The Queen had always been poised and composed, but there was an unmistakable hint of worry in her sharp green eyes.

“How is she?” she asked, her voice tight, betraying more emotion than she intended.

The young woman fidgeted under the Queen’s gaze, lowering her head. “She’s been... resting, Your Majesty. But she hasn’t left her room in days. I don’t think she’s well.”

The Queen’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Has she spoken to anyone?”

“No, Your Majesty. She’s refused visitors.”

The Queen’s worry deepened. She had always been headstrong, independent. But this felt different. Something was wrong. And it wasn’t just the physical withdrawal—it was the silence. She had never shut herself off like this before, and the Queen couldn’t shake the sense that her daughter was sinking into something far deeper than exhaustion.

The next day the King himself stepped into her chambers, expecting to find his daughter reading or quietly working through whatever troubled her. But when he saw her lying on the bed, her back turned to the door, still wearing the same clothes from days ago, the sight struck him harder than he’d expected.

“Darling,” he said gently, stepping into the room.

She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.

The King’s brow furrowed. His daughter had always been the stronger one, the one who pushed through no matter the burden placed on her. But the stillness in the room, the absence of life in her usually vibrant eyes—it unsettled him.

He walked to her side, sitting down on the edge of her bed. For a long moment, he simply watched her, unsure of what to say. As King, he was used to fixing things, solving problems, and making decisions. But this... this felt like something he couldn’t fix with words or power.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked softly. “Talk to me.”

She remained silent, her gaze fixed on the wall, eyes red-rimmed and empty. She didn’t trust herself to speak. If she opened her mouth, she was afraid she might fall apart completely, and that scared her more than anything.

The King sighed, reaching out to gently touch her hand. “You don’t have to do this alone, darling. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We’ll help.”

But she didn’t respond, her body tense under his touch. She didn’t know how to explain what she was feeling—the pressure, the emptiness, the suffocating weight of her title, her future, and everything in between. And the only escape she had found—the one place where she could breathe—had been taken from her.

The King remained by her side for a few more minutes, but eventually, he rose, his expression more worried than when he’d entered. He had hoped she would open up, give him some clue as to what was going on, but her silence spoke louder than any words could.

As he left the room, he quietly summoned Commander Alfred. The head of the royal guard appeared swiftly, his usual stoic expression in place. But even he couldn’t hide the concern that flickered in his eyes when the King spoke.

“Have you noticed anything unusual about the princess lately?” The King asked, his tone quiet but filled with authority.

Alfred’s jaw tightened. He knew precisely what was troubling her. He had been the one to stop her the night she tried to sneak out again. And though he had done his duty, he regretted the way it had crushed her. But now, standing before the King, he couldn’t very well admit he had allowed her escapades to go on unnoticed for so long.

“Your Majesty,” Alfred began carefully, “I believe the princess has been under a great deal of stress. It’s possible she’s... struggling with the weight of her responsibilities.”

The King frowned, frustration creeping into his expression. “We all have responsibilities, Alfred. But she has never shut down like this before. This is different.”

Alfred hesitated, his mind racing. Should he tell the King about the racing, about the brief moments of rebellion that had clearly meant so much to her? It wasn’t his place to reveal such things, especially when the princess had already been punished for it in her own way.

Instead, he simply nodded. “I will keep an eye on her, Your Majesty. But I believe she needs time.”

The King gave a short nod, though his unease was palpable. “Time. Yes. But not too much time. If this goes on any longer, we’ll have to intervene.”

That night the moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the palace grounds. Inside her room, the shadows loomed larger than life, stretching across the walls like silent sentinels. She lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling like the dust motes dancing in the moonlight. She had tried to find solace in sleep, but each time she closed her eyes, her mind spiralled back to the karting track—the laughter, the thrill, the fleeting moments of freedom that now felt like a distant memory.

As the clock struck midnight, a soft creak broke the stillness of her room. She turned her head, heart racing. The door slowly opened, and Lukas slipped inside, his silhouette cutting through the darkness.

“Your Highness,” he whispered, urgency lacing his tone. “I know you’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, sitting up quickly. “You can’t be in here!”

Lukas held a finger to his lips, a mischievous grin breaking through the concern etched on his face. “Shhh! Just trust me. I need you to change. I brought something for you.”

He reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, pulling out a pair of dark jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and a lightweight jacket. “You need to get out of here.”

Her heart pounded as she processed his words. “What? But Lukas, I can’t just—”

“Please, princess. You’ve been stuck in this room for too long. You need to breathe. Change quickly!” He urged, his tone more serious now.

Despite her hesitation, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest. She nodded, her resolve strengthening. “Alright,” she murmured, taking the clothes from him. “But you have to promise this is safe.”

“I promise,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with determination. “I’ll be right here.”

She hurried to the bathroom to change, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. The soft fabric felt foreign against her skin after days of wearing nothing but the same loungewear. She took a deep breath, catching her reflection in the mirror—her eyes still heavy with sleepless nights, but the spark of rebellion ignited within her once more.

When she emerged, Lukas was waiting, a grin on his face as he took in her new look. “You look ready for an adventure.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she breathed, feeling exhilarated yet terrified.

“Don’t worry. Just follow me.” He took her hand, leading her through the darkened corridors of the palace, down the stairs and into the depths of the guard quarters.

After what felt like an eternity of cautious footsteps and whispered exchanges, they reached a door that she had never noticed before. It was tucked away at the far end of the guard barracks, partially concealed by a thick tapestry.

Lukas turned to her, his expression serious. “This is a guard exit. It’ll take you out to the stables, but you need to move quickly. Once you’re outside, make your way to the track.”

Her heart raced at the thought of being outside the palace walls, free once again. “And you?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on things from a distance. If you need anything, just call. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t afford to let anyone know you’re gone.”

As he spoke, he reached into his bag and pulled out the helmet she had been gifted the last time she was at the track. “Here. Take this. It’s yours now.”

She stared at the helmet, a mixture of gratitude and exhilaration washing over her. “Thank you, Lukas. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

He smiled softly, but there was an intensity in his gaze. “You deserve to feel free, princess. You deserve more than what this palace offers. Now go. Run.”

She stepped forward, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace was warm and reassuring, a promise of friendship and loyalty in a world where she often felt so alone.

Lukas held her for a moment longer, then gently pulled away. “I’ll be right here, watching you,” he promised.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and nodded. The door creaked open, revealing the moonlit stables beyond. She could feel the cool night air beckoning her, the thrill of adventure coursing through her veins.

With a final glance back at Lukas, she stepped through the door and into the night. The world outside felt alive, electric with possibilities. She sprinted toward the stables, adrenaline surging as she imagined the karting track waiting for her, the laughter of her new friends echoing in her mind.

As she reached the edge of the stables, she turned to look back one last time, seeing Lukas standing by the door, watching her with a proud smile.

Then she turned and ran, feeling like she was breaking free for the first time in ages. The track awaited, and with it, the promise of freedom.

Her heart raced as she sprinted down the familiar path leading to the karting track. The thrill of freedom surged through her with each stride, the cool night air whipping around her. She had longed for this moment, to feel the exhilaration of the track beneath her feet, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she raced.

But as she burst through the gates, her excitement faltered. The track felt eerily quiet, devoid of the laughter and energy that had once filled the air. The karts sat silently in their spots, the pit area dark and still, the bleachers looming like forgotten memories. Disappointment washed over her as she realised she might have come back to an empty space, a place that had felt so alive just days ago.

“Pity” she muttered, her voice echoing into the void.

Feeling the weight of solitude, she hesitated at the edge of the track. She had envisioned this moment—the thrill of the race, the rush of speed—but now it felt as though the universe had conspired to leave her alone once again.

Just as she turned to leave, something caught her eye. A figure sat cross-legged on the ground near the barrier, partially obscured by shadows. Curiosity piqued, she squinted, and her heart leapt when she recognized the silhouette.

“Max?” she called, the name tumbling from her lips as a rush of hope surged within her.

He looked up, surprise washing over his face, and in an instant, he stood up, a wide smile spreading across his features. “Angel!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Without thinking, she rushed toward him, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footsteps. The distance between them vanished in an instant as she barreled into him, relief and joy overwhelming her senses.

Max caught her in a warm embrace, and the world around them faded. “I can’t believe you came back! I thought maybe you weren’t going to,” he said, his voice warm and sincere as he held her tight.

“I missed it too much,” she admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “And I missed you.”

He stepped back slightly, his gaze searching hers, and there was a moment of stillness between them. The excitement of their connection lingered in the air, an unspoken understanding that made her heart flutter.

“I was here the whole time, waiting for you to show up again,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. “I almost didn’t make it. I was worried I’d be the only one here.”

Max shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, I couldn’t stay away either. This place is too good to abandon. Plus, I was hoping you’d come back. I wanted to see how you were doing after our last race.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she replied, her heart swelling at the thought of their last adventure together. “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Same here,” he said, his expression softening. “It felt real, you know? Just us, no pressures, no expectations. I’ve missed having that, it’s been a long time.”

She felt her cheeks warm at his words. “I’ve missed that too. It’s hard to explain why. Everything in my life feels… complicated.”

He nodded, understanding glimmering in his eyes. “I get it. Sometimes you just want to escape from everything. That’s why I love coming here. It’s my little slice of freedom. I came here once a year with my mother and I come back each year.”

“It feels like no one cares who you are or what you’re supposed to be here.”

Max stepped back, his eyes playful. “So, you ready for another round? I’ve been practising, and I’m pretty sure I can beat you this time.”

“Is that a challenge?” she teased, feeling her competitive spirit ignite.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his smile wide. “But you’d better keep up.”

As they walked toward the karts, she couldn’t shake the feeling of exhilaration that buzzed through her. The emptiness she had felt moments ago faded, replaced by the warmth of their connection. Here, with Max, she was just a girl—not a princess, not a royal burdened by expectations.

They reached the karts, and Max gestured for her to take the lead. “You go first. I’ll watch you and see if I can learn a thing or two.”

Shr grinned, her nerves dissipating as she settled into the familiar seat of the kart. “Okay, but don’t blame me if I leave you in the dust!”

As she tightened the helmet over her head, Max’s laughter filled the air, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she felt free. The night stretched ahead of them, full of possibilities, and with a deep breath, she fired up the engine.

The engines fell silent as she and Max brought their karts to a stop, both panting from the thrill of the race. The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and the excitement that still hummed between them. As they climbed out of their karts, a shared laughter lingered in the air, buoyed by the adrenaline that coursed through their veins.

Max leaned against his kart, catching his breath, his eyes sparkling with exhilaration. “You really held your own out there,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I thought I was going to lose for a moment.”

She smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Well, don’t get too used to it. I’ll get better every time,” she replied playfully, wiping the sweat from her brow.

But as their laughter faded, the atmosphere shifted. The thrill of competition transformed into something deeper. Max’s gaze lingered on her, his expression softening as the playful banter shifted into a moment filled with unspoken understanding. They stepped closer, the warmth between them drawing them together, filling the space with a tension that felt electric.

Max brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek, and her breath hitched in her throat. In that moment, the world around them faded away—the empty track, the quiet night—everything became a distant blur. The only thing that mattered was the connection they shared, the desire that surged like wildfire between them.

“Schjate,” Max said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she felt a rush of emotions bubbling to the surface. “Me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about our last race.”

As their eyes locked, the air around them crackled with intensity. Without thinking, they moved closer together, their breaths mingling as Max leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that ignited the night.

It started softly, a gentle brush of lips that deepened as the world melted away around them. Her heart soared as she kissed him back, savouring the sweetness of the moment. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, as if he were afraid she might slip away. She melted against him, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace.

Their kiss was filled with a mix of exhilaration and longing, each moment stretching into eternity. Time seemed to pause as they lost themselves in each other, the warmth of his body grounding her in a way she had never experienced before. Every doubt, every fear faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in that electrifying moment.

But as they finally broke apart, a rush of reality crashed down on her. She stepped back, her heart racing, panic rising in her chest. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Why?” Max asked, confusion clouding his eyes as he searched her face. “It felt right, didn’t it?”

She turned away, trying to catch her breath as her thoughts raced. “I can’t offer you anything,” she admitted, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue.

“Why not?” he pressed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “What do you mean?”

“Because I can’t just… be with you like this,” she said, her chest tightening. “It’s complicated.”

His brow furrowed as he stepped closer, determination shining in his eyes. “What’s complicated about it? It’s just us here.”

“No, it’s not just us!” She exclaimed, her voice rising. “You don’t understand what I’m giving up.”

“What are you giving up?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt. “What do you think this is? I’m not just some guy to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But I can’t pretend that this is simple. I have responsibilities—things I can’t just ignore.”

Max’s expression shifted, disbelief etched on his face. “Responsibilities? What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m the princess of this country!” she blurted out, her heart racing as she revealed the truth she had kept hidden.

Silence fell between them, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. Max’s eyes widened, shock replacing the warmth that had just been there. “Wait… what?”

“I have a life I can’t escape from,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t be with someone when everything I do has consequences.”

Max took a step back, the hurt in his eyes cutting deeper than any blade. “So that’s it? You’re just going to run away because of some title?”

“No!” she cried, tears threatening to spill over. “I wish it were that easy. But I can’t risk everything for something that might not even be real!”

The tension crackled between them, pain and frustration hanging thick in the air. He shook his head, disbelief etched on his features. “So what that kiss was fake? An act of pity?”

“I don’t know what that was,” she admitted, her heart aching. “But I can’t let myself get lost in it. I have too much at stake.”

Max’s expression softened for a moment, but the hurt lingered. “And what if this is your chance to find something real?”

“I can’t take that chance!” she replied, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Max.”

With that, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them feeling insurmountable. Her heart shattered as she took in the sight of him walking away, the warmth of their moment fading into the night. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realised the weight of her choice, the finality of what she had just done.

“Max,” she whispered, but the words were lost in the night.

As he disappeared into the shadows, she felt an unbearable ache in her chest, the reality of her world crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She turned away, her heart heavy, and made her way back to the palace, each step feeling like a loss.

The thrill of racing, the taste of freedom, and the warmth of connection had been swept away, leaving only a hollow ache where joy once resided. As she walked through the familiar halls of the palace, the burden of her title felt heavier than ever, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had lost something precious.

As she made her way back to the palace, the cool night air felt sharp against her skin, mirroring the ache in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, the thrill of her escape now replaced by a deep sense of loss. The weight of her reality bore down on her, and she could hardly breathe as tears streamed down her cheeks, each drop a cruel reminder of what had just happened.

The familiar silhouette of the palace loomed ahead, its grand façade illuminated softly in the moonlight. It had always felt like a sanctuary, but tonight it felt more like a prison, trapping her within its walls of expectation and duty. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the memories of her time with Max, yet somehow knowing that they would haunt her no matter where she went.

As she approached the entrance, she spotted Lukas standing near the guard post, his usual stoic demeanour replaced by an expression of concern. The moment he saw her, his brow furrowed, and he stepped forward, instinctively sensing that something was terribly wrong.

“Princess?” he called, his voice low but urgent. “What happened? You look—”

Before he could finish, she crumpled, the weight of her emotions crashing over her like a wave. Without a word, she rushed into his arms, burying her face against his chest as sobs wracked her body. The warmth of his embrace felt like a lifeline, and she clung to him, desperately seeking solace.

Lukas stiffened for a moment, clearly taken aback, but then his arms encircled her, holding her close as she cried. “Princess, what’s wrong?” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked her hair gently. “Talk to me.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I—I can’t,” she stammered, struggling to catch her breath. “I messed everything up, Lukas.”

“Take your time,” he encouraged, his voice steady and calming. “Just breathe. You’re safe here.”

With a shuddering breath, she began to pour out the words that had been trapped inside her, the turmoil spilling forth like a dam breaking. “I went back to the track, and I saw Max,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “We raced again, and it was incredible. I felt so free, so alive. But then… we kissed, and it was everything I wanted, but I can’t have it. I can’t be with him.”

Lukas’s expression softened, and he held her tighter as she continued. “He thinks it’s real, but I can’t offer him anything, not with who I am. I’m a princess, and I have responsibilities. I can’t just run away and live a normal life.”

Lukas remained silent for a moment, absorbing her words. “Princess,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest, “you deserve to be happy. It’s okay to want something for yourself.”

“But what I want isn’t an option,” she replied, shaking her head, her tears still flowing. “I can’t put him in danger because of my title. I can’t risk my responsibilities for a fleeting moment of happiness. It’s not fair to him.”

“I understand that it feels complicated,” Lukas said, his tone gentle yet firm, “but you can’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of your duty. You deserve to feel loved and to have someone who cares about you.”

“I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But it’s all too much. I thought I could be someone else, even just for a little while, but I can’t escape who I am.”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression earnest. “Princess, running away from your responsibilities won’t change who you are, but it doesn’t mean you can’t find moments of joy. You have the right to seek happiness, even in a world that tries to dictate how you should live.”

She met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “But what if it all falls apart? What if I lose everything?”

“You won’t lose everything,” he reassured her, his grip tightening around her shoulders. “You have to take risks sometimes. You won’t know what could happen unless you allow yourself to find out.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for the first time that night, she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a small voice whispering that maybe there was a way to reconcile her desires with her duties.

“But what if I mess it up again?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

“Then you try again,” Lukas replied softly, a small smile breaking through the concern etched on his face. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll be here to help you navigate it. You can’t let fear dictate your life.”

As she looked into his eyes, she felt the bond of their years deepen. He had always been there, her steadfast protector, and tonight he was more than just a guard—he was a confidant.

“Thank you, Lukas,” she whispered, gratitude swelling in her heart. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he assured her, his tone lightening. “Now, let’s get you inside before anyone else sees you like this. You deserve a moment to breathe, away from everything.”

[sagewritings]

Midnight Library - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

synopsis: your moment alone surrounded by books quickly ends when your boyfriend catches you sneaking out to the library in the middle of the night.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: curse words, smut, unprotected sex (read at your own discretion!)

a/n: hello everyone! i’ve been wanting to write for another character so here it is. do take note that this fic is 18+ and if you choose to proceed, your media consumption is up to you.

if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>

i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost screamed, startled by a familiar voice. You looked up from the book that you were holding and turned sideways to face your smirking boyfriend.

“I didn’t expect to see you here either.” You replied, glaring at him for frightening you. It didn’t affect him at all; in fact, Draco seemed amused.

“You might have forgotten that I’m a prefect. I’m supposed to be out here to check if everyone is in their dormitories.” He explained, crossing his arm. “Meanwhile you, darling, aren't supposed to be here at this hour.”

You groaned, leaning back against your chair. “I’m only here to study, okay? I’m not doing anything illegal.”

“Sneaking out past curfew is illegal.” Draco replied.

Well, you know he’s right but you were not going to tell him that, not with his smug face looking at yours for a reaction.

It’s a few minutes past midnight. You were dressed in your night clothes and a sweater to keep you warm, surrounded by at least five books and a lamp. Truth be told, you didn’t want to be here. You’d rather be sleeping in your dorm room than be seated on a hardwood chair with barely enough light. But with your pride refusing you to fail potions, you decided to sacrifice one night of comfort.

Draco walked closer towards you, his face turning in confusion when he read the titles of the books.

“Potions? Are you studying for a test that I don’t know about?”

You sighed. “No, there’s no test. But I got my results earlier and I feel like I’m going to fail.”

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”

“Because, you’re always busy and I prefer to study alone.” You replied plainly.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You have to go back before another prefect catches you.”

“No, they won’t.”

“This isn’t the first time you sneaked out, didn’t you?” He furrowed his brows.

You smiled innocently, not saying anything. He let out a breath, towering over you while you stayed seated.

“Y/n, get back now.” Draco spoke, sounding authoritative.

You shook your head. “What will you do? You won’t dare subtract points from our house.”

His patience thinning, he leaned down until your eyes were level. One of his hands was placed upon the table, the other was holding the back of your seat. Despite being used to this closeness, you felt intimidated when your boyfriend smiled devilishly.

He closed the gap between the two of you by pressing his lips softly against yours. It took you a second to react, confused that he’s kissing you instead of fighting back.

“What are you doing?” You asked after pulling away from him gently, hands pressed against his shoulder.

“What? Can’t I kiss my girl?” Draco shrugged, standing up again.

You hummed. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. We have the entire library to ourselves, we might as well take advantage of it.” He spoke and pulled you up by the hand.

“And what happened to breaking the curfew?” You jokingly asked.

“Fuck the curfew.” Draco replied and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You discreetly pushed aside the lamp and the books, leaning your back against the edge of the table as Draco hungrily kissed you and trapped you with his body. You slowly lifted your hands from his chest to his hair, earning a small groaning sound from the boy.

He deepened the kiss, his hands subtly wrapping around your waist before lifting you up and sitting you down on the table. You wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him close, breathing heavily as he started to kiss the sides of your mouth.

Making out with Draco at the most risky places wasn’t new to you. There’s something about the thrill of getting caught that builds up the heat, and now is one of those times.

You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.

“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, your breath panting.

“Yes, ma’am.” He whispered, his hands bow sneaking below your sweater. “It’s a bit warm, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, cheekily removing your sweater and your shirt at the same time. “Happy?” You asked, smirking when you observed his eyes glued to your red bra.

“Very.” He whispered in reply and lowered his head to press small kisses to your breasts.

Your arousal grew when you felt his fingers snaking up your back and within a moment, you felt your bra loosen. You looked down at your boyfriend, catching his smile as he eyed your bra going down. “That’s better.”

You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath. Without moving his head away from your chest, Draco pulled off his robe while you helped him remove his tie. 

“Draco.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture once more and you took the opportunity to start unbuttoning his shirt. Your fingers worked hastily while your boyfriend admired the hungry look in your eyes.

You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you turn your focus on his belt. 

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.

“Shut up and help me.” You spat, dropping his belt to the ground.

“Patience, darling. We have a lot of time.” Draco clicked his tongue. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, love. Let me take this off of you.”

You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the table to allow Draco to pull down your pajamas and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed, but paid no attention when you caught Draco eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right hand landing gently on your thigh.

“Draco…” You whined lowly, growing frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.

“What do you want, love?” He asked innocently.

You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”

He smirked. Draco loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches, your sarcasm staying intact despite being desperate. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.

Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit and wrapped his other arm around you to keep you in place. You jolted forward, the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”

Draco’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming larger at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.

“Fucking hell, Draco. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.

Draco didn’t respond, instead pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.

“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb in front of your face. “Open.”

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck.” Draco spoke, feeling his cock straining. 

After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.

You watched as Draco kneeled in front of you, his eyes being on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

Without any warning, Draco pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.

Draco slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”

You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.

“Yes, yes, Draco…. Shit.”

He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting. Whatever information that you got from reading those potions books earlier was now thrown out of the window.

Draco felt your legs shake and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.

“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.

He gently shushed you, standing up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll finish you right here.”

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Draco groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the edge of the table as you shake in pleasure. Draco looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with darkness and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”

“Draco…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. He pumped several more times before he completely pulled out, pulling you up with him.

Still dizzy from pleasure, you stood shakily, letting him maneuver your body as he desired. Draco turned you around, both of you now facing the shelves as he pushed your body to lean on the table. He kept your leg foot on the ground while he lifted your right, giving him easy access to your pussy.

He looked at your ass and caressed them swiftly before he entered you again, his thrusts becoming twice as hard.

“Fuck, Draco, please…” You weren’t sure what you were begging him for. All you knew is that you needed a release. 

“Yes, baby. Say my name, go on.” He cooed, his hand sneaking up to your front to grab one of your breasts as the other came down to your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming as Draco focused on every part of you as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt. Your hands grabbed at the bookshelf in front of you, head leaning back to his shoulder.

You knew you were close when you started to feel something up in your lower stomach, the urge to cum increases with every thrust. You knew Draco was close too when you felt him twitch inside you, a warm liquid beginning to leak.

“D-Draco, I’m…”

“I know, baby. Cum with me. C’mon, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You almost screamed when you reached your orgasm, Draco following shortly after with a deep groan. Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Draco rubbed your back and slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you moaning in the process. You sighed and turned around, leaning back against the table once more to keep your balance.

“Are you alright?” Draco touched your cheek, confused and concerned when you didn't say a word.

You smiled back and laughed lightly. “No, I feel like my knees are about to give out.”

He smirked, guiding you to a chair before gathering both of your clothes on the floor. “That’s what you get for sneaking out.”

“If this is the punishment for sneaking out, then I’ll see you again tomorrow night.” You smiled cheekily. “For potions lessons.”

Draco laughed before pulling out his wand and motioning it towards the two of you, your clothes magically reappearing on your bodies. He cleaned the table as well before pulling your hand.

“Let’s go before Filch catches us.”

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[slytherinboysvip]

Picture me this- Mattheo Riddle

(enemies to lovers, slowburn-ish)

༺chapter 1༻ ☞chap 2☜

Y/n and Mattheo have been attending Hogwarts together their entire lives, however things take a turn in your fourth year when you finally say something to the rowdy Slytherin boy. Ever since that day two years ago you have been ‘rivals’. Quite unfortunately for you there’s been a few complications in your plans of avoiding actual contact with him.

(No tws needed so far)

Mattheo Riddle. The boy you so despised. It wasn’t a one side hatred either, everyone at Hogwarts knew you two were Rivals. He hadn’t cared for his grades or anything school related for that matter till you began to challenge him, “You just simply have a pea brain, not much you can do with that.” Those words in your 4th year started this all. You couldn’t help yourself from crushing the boasting boys ego thinking he was cool for not taking anything seriously.

Over the years rather unfortunately he proved to be a rather good competitor. Constantly going head to head against each other with everything. You became a prefect, so he became a prefect. He didn’t even take the job seriously either, it drove you insane. Simply becoming one because he knew he could, not because he wanted to, and this gave him the biggest advantage to getting away with doing things to you.

Never paying mind to curfew calls and telling students to get to their dormitories Mattheo would rather watch you struggle, watching you intently from across the halls as you kept a speedy pace looking around for any students. You weren’t the type to actually get mad at them of course, you honestly just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and without Mattheo helping it was a lot of work.

It was another night of this poor routine you’ve had to get used to, just the dungeons and surrounding areas taking at least thirty minutes to check only finding a few lost first years and snogging couples sending them all on their way to their dorms.

Finally making it to the outside doors you began your final walk around the grounds of the castle, seeing a few other prefects checking around. “You do know it’s not that serious right, there’s like 3 other prefects out here.” You recognized the annoyingly sly voice coming from behind you hearing leaves crunching as he approached closer “Nobody said you had to come too.” You just kept walking in the opposite direction hoping to be left alone.

“It’s rude to just walk away” Mattheo scoffed catching up to you quicker than you’d hoped. “You never even do these checks what do you want” Looking at him momentarily with a look of annoyance. “For your information sweetheart we have a potions project to do together” He smirked at you mockingly, your face turning into a scowl at the nickname coming out of his mouth

“Don’t call me that”— giving a disgusted look you continued “ And i’m sure I can get out of that.” Finally back at the huge wooden door to the castle you opened it leaving no room for Mattheo and left as quickly as you could not paying anymore attention to him or if he was following. You took straight to professor Snapes class hoping to catch him and to your luck, you did. “Professor-“ you spoke but before you could finish he brutally interrupted “I do not care what sort of thing is going on between you and Mr.Riddle, and I will not be changing your partner.” He looked up unamused to your lingering presence, “Goodbye Ms.Y/l/n”.

God dammit you thought, of all things you could’ve had to deal with, of all people. You genuinely couldn’t think of anyone worse you could have had as a partner, even considering Neville and Seamus as better candidates. The second you stepped out of Snapes office you were once again met with the last face you wanted to see. “I knew it’d be no use” He smirked walking up to you, “Looks like you’re stuck with me” He winked before walking away.

The worst part of this might just be the fact that you two have to be partners.. for months.

𓆙𓆙

Day 1

You walked as slowly as possible to your next class dreading every moment you stepped closer to your unfortunate demise. You hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as you were making it out to be, he wasn’t bad at potions he was just.. well, him.

Stepping into class you were met with new seating arrangements as to be expected, looking around seeing Mattheo towards the back corner sulkily walking towards your new seat. “Don’t look too happy now y/n” Theo joked from across you and Riddle, “Ha Ha very funny Theodore” You sarcastically replied sitting down with a huff.

“You’re feisty today aren’t you” Mattheo poked at your side with his quill. “I will break that right now don’t test me” Pulling it away from you, he chuckled in response and threw his hands up in surrender “Aye, i’m not trying to die”. “Good thinking” Theo chimed in once more.

“Pay attention I will only say this once.” Snape began “This should be easy for you all considering I’ve been your teacher, — he looked around scowling “ You will be making a simple Developing Solution. Find the page you need, get all the ingredients yourself, curate the potion, then you will be tasked to find a fascinating sight and taking a photo, then to see if your potion worked you’ll take your photograph and dip it in your solution. Whoever finishes first- and successfully gets 100 points to their house. Now leave me be” He sat at his desk and everyone and their partners began talking.

“We could just buy this shit easily this is so dumb why couldn’t we do something more fun” Mattheo scoffed turning through the pages in his book. You didn’t respond as you too were look for the page, even though he was right this was pretty boring. “Found it” you opened to the page fully pushing it between the two of you. “Why does this require so much shit” He ran his finger down the list reading it all “Where are we going to get Fairy wings. There’s no way this says Three Griffin claws.” He continued “No wonder we have two months I thought this was easy” you sighed running your hand through your hair putting your head down.

You truly were stuck being his partner for awhile. “I still don’t know why none of you are already trying to gather ingredients.” Snape spoke lowly and some students quickly got up and left. “Do you want to study this some more in the Library?” You looked over to Mattheo waiting for a response “Why do we need to study it we could just find everything and make it first” He held an unamused expression “I’d rather know what i’m making first, and plus we can find out where to get all of this i’m sure it’s in a book somewhere”

“I guess” he began getting up and you followed, putting your stuff together and starting the small journey to the Library. “Why do you think Snape is making us do this I never would’ve thought he’d give us an assignment to take a ‘fascinating’ picture” Mattheo randomly said adding air quotes, you couldn’t lie this was kind of funny so you cracked a smile, not left unnoticed by him “First expression i’ve ever got from you” He teased and you just ignored him.

“You are going to have to stop ignoring me you know, it’s not like i’m being a dick” He rolled his eyes tilting his head down at you “Fine, but this doesn’t mean I like you we’re still not friends” You replied keeping your eyes forward “Ouch you’re totally hurting my feelings with that one” he laughed continuing on. Finally reaching the Library you walked as far to the back as you could sitting in one of the only beanbag chairs. “That’s my spot” He stood above you, “I’m already here, and I always sit here” not budging you stayed sat.

“Looks like I have no choice” he shrugged sitting down on top of you stretching his legs out and letting out a sigh “Get the fuck off me” You pushed him as hard as you could and he very dramatically fell forward onto the ground acting as if he’d been shot “Ow.” He got up and sat across from you. “Anyways..” He spoke “I’m gonna find some books, just like wait here I guess” He walked off. Now usually you’d protest however you were far too comfortable and you didn’t want to lose your seat.

Around five minutes later he returned holding four different sized books, setting them all down and sitting. ‘Potions for dummies’, ‘Wizard photography and exciting new ways’, ‘Potions Index’, and ‘Potions ingredients index *and where to find*’. Seeing the potions for dummies first you looked at him and laughed throwing it at him “We won’t be needing this, but these others are good actually I’ll start looking in the Ingredients index” grabbing the book and opening up looking for the items on your list.

1. One pair of Fairy wings

2. Three Griffin claws

3. 2oz Molten Antimony

4. 8 Sheivlefig Leaves

5. 1 cup standard potion water

It seemed easy but it was anything but. First looking for the Fairy wings in the index of the index, opening to page 6,782 you began reading.

“Great.” You huffed sinking down into the beanbag “What?” Mattheo looked up from his book “Fairy wings are only ever found during peak winter that’s not for another month.” Mattheos mouth dropped open and he sat back annoyed “Okay, Snape is an asshole for this. Whoever finishes first my ass”.

“At least we can get everything else it’ll be difficult but it’s possible.” Giving him a somewhat sympathetic smile “We could always sneak off to diagon alley and get some of the stuff from there” He shrugged “Are you mad? What if we got caught not to mention how hard it would be to even get there durning school hours” You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. He let out a little laugh towards your reaction “Relax I do it all the time we just have to leave as soon as everyone goes to sleep and we’re doing rounds”

“Are you saying.. that all the times I was doing rounds alone, you were at Diagon Alley having a grand ole time” Your expression grew back to your usual straight faced scowl you gave him “Well it’s not like you need my help you’re perfectly capable” .. “You’re right I am perfectly capable, I don’t need your help with this just like I don’t need your help with Prefect duty or anything else for that matter.” Your promptly got up grabbing the index and walking to your dorm not looking back.

You don’t know why this irked you so much it’s not like you had ever truly cared he didn’t help he was right you were perfectly capable but the fact that he just left all the work to you because he could was infuriating. You worked your ass off for this title no matter what anyone else thought of it and he just takes it for granted. You angrily sat on your bed opening the book to find where to get everything else.

𓆙𓆙

Day 2

After a very long weekend of dreading your monday class it was time once again to deal with your rival.

You sat down not paying mind to Mattheo at all and Snape gave the same spiel about leaving him alone. “You’re going to have to stop ignoring me sometime y/n” He tapped your hand and you just pushed him off “And that’s not this time” You opened your book despite already reading everything you needed to. “Now what did you do this time Matt” Theo walked over “Nothing I wasn’t already doing” he rolled his eyes, Theo kneeled down lower to you “So what did Sir Riddle do” He smirked

“Annoyed the fuck out of me” You simply responded not looking up. “Ah, what’s new.” He retorted going back to his own table. “What Nott said, what’s new” Matt rolled his eyes. You got up without saying a word and walked up to Professor Snape. “Sir” You muttered, “what.” he said monotone. “Can I please do my project myself It will still be done by the deadline I can promise that” You pleaded hoping he’d somehow cave in, which, he didn’t. “I already told you Y/l/n, No.” He looked back down to what he was doing with no more words.

Walking back to your seat Mattheo spoke up “You can’t get rid of me that easily I’m like a stain on your favorite white shirt”. “You’re definitely a stain.”

“Alright everyone go do whatever you need for this potion that you can, get out of here” Snape said from his desk and you quickly left the room. “I KNOW WHERE TO FIND FAI-“ you cut off Mattheos yelling from across the hall running up to him and putting your hand over his mouth “Are you insane!! What kind of example of a prefect are you!” You looked at him like he was crazy which in this moment he seemed. You hadn’t processed that your hand was still over his mouth till you felt his warm slimy tongue lick the inside of your palm causing you to immediately remove it “EWWWWWWW EWWWWW EWWWWWW EWWWWW” You screamed waving your hand around frantically “EWWWWWW” You continued- wiping your hand all over his robes “YOURE NASTYYY!”.

Finally calming down you looked down at your hand making the most twisted face. Meanwhile Mattheo was laughing his ass off at this entire sight. Just as you were getting on him for yelling here you were screaming like a maniac over some spit. “It’s not funny— you huffed “I need to was my hands” Giving him a death stare he raised his hands up “No one said to put your hand over my mouth, you don’t know where that things been” He joked only making you more grossed out and needing immediate hand washing. “Merlin woman calm down there’s literally a girl lavatory right there” he pointed behind you and you ran inside washing your hands quicker than you ever had, and multiple times.

“How long does it take to wash hands” You heard Mattheos voice from behind you startling you “You’re not supposed to be in here you could get in trouble” looking at him though the mirror “What? Are you gonna tell a prefect on me?” He smirked. “Here I got you” He said walking towards a mirror looking in it “You’re not supposed to be in the girls bathroom 10 points from your house” He pointed at himself with a stern look making you giggle. “Is that a laugh I hear” He quickly jerked his head to you “Nope!”

“We should go before we get caught in here anyway, come on.”. You were back in the hallway and you came back to the realization that you were supposed to be upset with him. “I still don’t forgive you.” You looked at him but he was already looking at you with a puzzled expression “And why is it you don’t forgive me for exactly?” .. “You leaving every prefect duty to me” You scoffed “It’s not like you’d enjoy my help or company” He rolled his eyes, “I never said we’d do it together, but the point of two prefects per house is a thing for many reasons.” .. “Well the second I became prefect I was immediately in your way so don’t blame me blame yourself”

Genuinely confused you shook your head “What are you even talking about I never even acknowledge you whilst doing it”, “Exactly at least I had the decency to acknowledge when you became prefect I even remember congratulating you but the second I become one I’m like the devil.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he might’ve sounded a little hurt. “How do you expect me to congratulate you when you don’t even try to do what prefects are meant to do!” You retorted determined to keep your ground and your side of things. “Are you thick in the head? Don’t you think if I wasn’t doing what I was meant to be that I would’ve lost my position as perfect a long time ago? Genuinely how narcissistic are you y/n? I have to deal with all of the male Slytherins, deal with annoying ass first and second years asking questions they could ask literally everyone, but no just because I don’t help you with one thing which you can do by yourself means I’m awful.” He scoffed starting to walk away.

“Are you serious right now Mattheo?— You continued on following him “Yeah you do all that shit but so do I? I have to deal with every girl, I deal with their little problems and crushes, I have to put up with restocking every product girls need , and then after everything you complained about doing which once again I have to deal with too, I have to leave my dorm and walk around the castle and school grounds just to make sure every student is where they need to be, and I never once have officially complained to you about it all till now, and yet you’re acting like a victim. Typical.” Now you were the one walking away and he didn’t follow in fact he just stood there.

new series for my mattheo girlies sorry for abandoning the last one 😓😓😓 this might be slow burn ish but idk because i love smut LMAO hmmm who knows what will happennnn hope you enjoy <333

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Dark!Bruce Wayne

Pairing: Dark Bruce Wayne x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNING: Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

Bruce loves to throw lavish parties dedicated to you - his beloved girlfriend. He literally takes any occasion to celebrate and always loves to put you at the center of attention. You deserve everyone to know how amazing and gorgeous you are. 

Trust me when I say that you’ll never stay more than a month in Gotham as Bruce loves taking you (and his private plane) to all the properties and mansions he owns all over the world. Traveling will never be an issue for him, constantly exploring the world and staying at the most luxurious hotels and resorts with you by his side. 

Shopping sprees are frequent. Bruce loves to spoil you with the best that money can buy so you don’t have to worry about it. If you look twice at something, Bruce won’t hesitate in swiping his credit card for you. 

There are times when he can get a bit extravagant like the time where you wanted to visit this clothing boutique near its closing time so Bruce, like any diligent boyfriend would do, bought the entire store for you. Now there’s no curfew for you to leave the store, right? 

And because he (or Alfred) can’t always drive you everywhere, he gifted you a brand new BMW - with a professional driver included- so this way, you’ll be able to go wherever you want (we’ll talk about this later).

Bruce is so in love with you that, although he keeps with his party boy lifestyle, he’ll want you by his side at every opportunity. On every social event, you’re dressed with the most expensive dresses, the finest jewelry, the most flawless make-up. 

But as much as Bruce loves to flash his money around, he doesn’t want you to love him only for it. You need to love him for his personality.

So, please, make sure you’re with him for the right reasons otherwise you’ll be stuck with a very obsessive man and his money won’t make it better. 

 Now, talking about the real content here: 

Bruce views you like a fragile baby. You need a strong man like him to protect you, to take the decisions for you. All you need to do is stay home (or at his mansion, to be more accurate) and be a good girl for him. He’ll take care of all the rest, don't worry your delicate head with working or trying to find a job cause you won’t need that. 

As much as he takes you to parties, it’s always non-alcoholic drinks for you. You’re not allowed to drink booze at parties and that’s final. If you’re alone with him, that’s fine.

But in a public place where anyone could try to take advantage of your drunk self, not a chance. Bruce won’t allow it. 

Dressing up to go out is also when Bruce’s possessive side awakens so don’t bother picking the short dresses and tops with cleavages cause that’s not gonna roll with Bruce.

There’s no way in hell you’ll ever be leaving the mansion without Bruce assessing your chosen outfit and you gotta make sure that you’re dressed up quite modestly. Your body and its secrets are reserved for Bruce and that’s the way he wants to keep it. 

If you thought that being with Bruce would be a full and wild party life, then you’re wrong. Partying alone with your friends, only at his club (the one he bought in Gotham S4) and even like that, his security guards will be keeping a tight eye on you - the boss’s girlfriend.

Not to mention that Bruce will be checking in with you every fifteen minutes (much to your friend’s consternation) and you better answer his calls back, otherwise Bruce will show up at the club to make sure you’re safe and sound. 

Speaking of going out, you have a curfew. Gotham at night is dangerous and Bruce can get quite protective, so it’s not long after you start dating him that he implements a curfew - for your own safety, of course.

And also, you have to ask for his permission to hang out with your friends and answer a million questions about who they are, their full names, what they do in life, their addresses and phone numbers, all of that. Something he’s so relentless in that you just give up on trying. 

Going out means keeping a special tracking app in your phone. One that Bruce had especially custom-made for you and it doesn’t allow you to remove or fake your location. No tricks will work on fooling that specific app. Bruce really doesn’t take any chances with you, does he?

To make it worse, leaving the mansion is something you can only do with him or Alfred. He only trusts Alfred to take you outside, knowing he’s more than capable of protecting. And if Alfred is not available, then he’ll reluctantly allow some intensely trained bodyguards to accompany you. 

So basically, you’ll get to be treated like a princess, but at the same time you’ll be just a prisoner of Bruce’s love. 

--------

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity; snippets of navigating fifth year with Fred Weasley

series masterlist

based on a request from ages ago. its a little choppy, but bare with me, ive just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever😓 (i'm actually so sad that i've neglected serendipity so much but im back and i have so many wips to share with you all!!!!)

pairing(s): fred weasley x fem!reader, brief theodore nott x fem!reader (platonic)

Hogwarts doesn't feel the same anymore. The usual air of magic had been snuffed out with each imposing rule that was nailed to the Entrance Hall walls. There is no more laughter in the corridors, no more soft chatter from the figures inside the magical portraits; instead the repetitive notes of Professor Umbridge's sugary sweet tone rattle over deafening speakers.

All boys and girls must remain eight inches apart from eachother.

There will be no house fraternising during meal times.

Talk of any unauthorised groups will be met with adequate punishment.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

That last one still haunts you in your peaceful moments.

It's the reason you sit on one of the uncomfortable plush seats in Professor Umbridge's office, a cursed black quill clenched in your harsh grip as you write out those very words, the familiar cursive of your own handwriting etching painfully into the skin of your non-dominant hand. She was smirking at you under the guise of sipping lengthily from her pink teacup, watching as the tears steadily building in your eyes finally spilled down over your cheeks, which were flushed red from the pain.

How had you found yourself in this predicament exactly?

You were made a prefect at the start of the year, alongside Hermione and Ron, which you'd found out when you got your letter detailing which books you would need for your fifth year. You remember the pride written across your parents' faces and how elated you had been to be given such a prestigious role, one that many Ravenclaw students in your year wanted just as badly as you. It was a revered spot after all. Everyone was elated for you, but none more so than the oldest Weasley twin.

"Are you going to give us unlimited leeway with pranks now that you hold such a position of authority, gorgeous?" Fred's husky voice joked in a whisper as the two of you sat at the dining table during the small party that Molly and your mother had set up in celebration for the three of you.

"Are you asking me to take advantage of my new position, Weasley?" You ask, a small smirk making its way on your face as you fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks at his sudden closeness.

All summer, he had been flirting with you. At first you put it down to his lack of contact to the outside world and you laughed at his well-timed jokes and played into his flirtations with rebutting jokes of your own.

But then one night, when you flirted back daringly, he kissed you. He actually kissed you. It wasn't your first kiss. No, that went to Harry in a random game of truth or dare back in second year (something you both agreed was wrong on so many levels; it was never discussed by any of you again). But this kiss with Fred felt incredible and it cemented a closer bond with the older twin, whose brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with something more whenever he stared at you after that moment.

He'd rewarded your achievement later that same evening, after the party, behind the closed door of your temporary bedroom, leaving you smiling and giddy for the rest of summer. It's what prompted Ginny and Hermione's loose bet as to how long it would take for the pair of you to get together officially.

Your elation lasted until the very moment you stepped into the Prefects' Carriage and found out who you'd be partnered up with for the year.

Theodore Nott. Notorious for his aloof attitude as well as his surprising intellect that rivalled Hermione's. He was part of Riddle's group, one of the most popular groups in school, possibly trumping even the Golden Trio. But because he was part of Riddle's crew you had learned to hate him just a little – his teasing remarks towards your friends, especially Ron, always sent you into a spiral of brewing animosity.

So when Alicia Spinnet, who had been given the prestigious role of Head Girl, announced that she was pairing you with him, you cast her a look of utter betrayal, which she vehemently ignored.

You did not speak to Nott for the entire time you were meant to familiarise yourselves with eachother, and he made no effort either; grey eyes misted over as if he wasn't even part of the present conversation altogether. Gods how you despised him.

~∞~

Upon returning to your original compartment, following slowly behind Ron and Hermione, Fred had immediately seen your crestfallen look.

"What's up, gorgeous?" he asked from his seat by the window, ignoring Ron's faux gagging at the nickname. He'd also moved further into the corner to allow you the space to sit down.

You thanked him with a quiet smile before sitting down with a sigh.

"Alicia paired me with Nott for prefect rounds. How unfortunate is that?" You mumble, resting your head dejectedly against his burly shoulder.

"You're joking?!" He says with wide eyes. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I assume it was because Davies paired Parkinson with your counterpart, so you got paired with Nott as a consequence." Hermione said from the opposite seat. "The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in sixth and seventh year were paired together as well."

Yes that was an overarching trend that had seemed to stick over the years.

"Maybe it won't be too bad." Ginny says and you all turn to her in synchronised disbelief. "What? I've never seen Nott speak. Maybe that'll be a good thing. A mute partner is better than a snarky one."

"Just the thought of being in his presence makes me uncomfortable. Mute or not." You say quietly, so only Fred can hear.

"If he does or says anything to you, let me know yeah?" He replied with equal secrecy and you nod your head imperceptibly in response.

He lets you use his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when you find your eyes closing drowsily, brushing the loose hair that falls into your face and ignoring George's knowing glances.

~∞~

The very first round of Prefect duties was utterly boring and painfully long. You and Nott had patrolled the Astronomy corridor with lacklustre precision, both eager to get away from eachother's presence.

It was like this for a while, a few months to be exact, until you both became accustomed to the silence, to the point where it was actually bareable. No longer were rounds a labourous activity; you and Nott began to partake in small talk, to the most minute extent – in no way did this make you aquainted and in the daylight, you returned to steely looks and barely contained snarls of discontent, which was mirrored by your friends, and his. You barely noticed the extra attention that Voldemort's son seemed to be giving you as your friendship with Theo progressed at a steadily growing pace.

At your budding friendship with the Slytherin Prefect, Fred began showing up at the end of your rounds to whisk you away, never sparing Theo a glance. The two of you would wander the desolate corridors, hands interlocked as you spoke quietly and unhurriedly. You noticed that Fred, always grinning and never unnecessarily angry, would grow agitated in Theo's presence and you never understood why.

Until one night, when Fred was loitering at the end of your last corridor to patrol, Theo had said something that made you burst into pearls of laughter; his face had lit up with a delighted smirk at the sound.

Fred's face was stoic and so unnaturally like his usual cadence that it took you completely by surprise.

"Of course you're waiting here, Weasley." Theo had mumbled, mostly to himself, but Fred had bristled from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You have a problem with that, Nott?" He had snarled and you'd looked at him with widened eyes at the edge in his voice.

Eager to defuse the tension, you took Fred's hand and gave Theo a look that read 'stop being an arsehole', before leading the ginger boy away.

Theo had gone back to his best friend to report that Mattheo's suspicions were indeed correct: you had been learning Legillimancy and had unknowingly spoken to Theo without so much as moving your lips.

And Fred had no idea.

~∞~

This routine continued for you and Fred, leaving you at the butt end of George and Lee's teasing. You came to expect him to be waiting at the end of your rounds, where you would part ways with Theo before spending at least an hour in Fred's presence.

On some occasions when it was far too cold to continue wandering the hallways at night, he would tell you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room, where there would be a fire in the hearth and plenty of blankets to snuggle into.

On such occasions, Theo offered to walk you there, despite him not wanting to be anywhere near the lions' den. It was during these times where your friendship with him became cemented as pure and real. Your friends were surprised when you actively sought eachother out during lessons.

Fred hated your budding friendship, but he said nothing about it; it wasn't his place to undermine your friendships.

But it became hard to hold his tongue when Professor Umbridge unveiled her new Inquisitorial Squad, which Theo and his friends had joined in quick succession.

The Inquisitorial Squad was a massive hindrance for Dumbledore's Army. The lot of you had to be more vigilant with your timings for the meet ups in the Room of Requirement, lest you get caught out by these glorified prefects. The Inquisitorial Squad is how you ended up in her office in the first place.

You had been patrolling with Theo, who was complaining about how frustrating having magicless lessons was becoming in the lead up to ypur OWL exams (you'd felt guilty about the DA not including any Slytherins all year, and this further cemented that feeling), when Adrian Pucey and Professor Umbridge came waltzing around the corner.

"Good evening Master Nott." the Professor says warmly, before her gaze sweeps over to you and her beady eyes catch onto the flashy Prefect badge pinned proudly tp your chest.

"Miss Meadow, why are you out past curfew?" She asks with faux concern, mouth twisting with a sadistic smirk.

"Uh-" You look at Theo, who looks just as startled as you. "We're just about to finish our rounds, Professor."

Umbridge lets out a heinous giggle that grates on your nerve.

"Oh my dear, didn't you see the newest decree?" She asks, her face alight with victory when you shake your head. "I have no need for Prefects anymore. I disproved them as a group."

"Wha- Why?" you ask, disbelief painted across your face. Pucey smirks as he looks from you to Theo.

"The Inquisitorial Squad has overtaken that job, Meadow." He spits your name like its dirt on the bottom of his shoe. You share a look of alarm with Theo.

I knew nothing of this Meadow, I promise you.

He looks sincere and you believe him, word for word.

"This sheer display of disobedience cannot go unpunished." Her harsh giggle is the only sound that fills the corridor.

She hands you a detention on a silver platter and you go into it blind. You didn't know that Harry had been trying to protect you, Ron and Hermione from the same fate as him.

~∞~

She dismissed you with a delighted giggle after an hour of writing the same line over and over again.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

Your hand is throbbing from the pain, but all you feel is numb. You wander the hallways like a ghost, not bothering to pay mind to where you're walking, until you find yourself at the portrait of the Fat Lady leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?!" Elizabeth says impatiently, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over.

"Gillyweed." You mumble and she finally takes in your appearance, completely forgetting to open the portrait hole.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" She says, voice full of concern, and if she were able to, you're sure she'd reach a hand out and place it delicately onto your shoulder.

"'M fine, Elizabeth. Just need to sit down." You didn't realise how tired you were, but from the slurring of your words and the speed with which the portrait swings open, with no hesitation towards the blue and bronze tie donning your neck, you must be on the verge of collapsing.

Fred sees you first.

"Meadow? What are you doing here, gorgeous?" he asks, voice filled with concern.

"Don't know. But 'M really sleepy." You say and you grip at his arms with barely any strength, which he notes with wide, panicking eyes.

"Shit- okay, come on let's go upstairs."

He guides you slowly towards his dorm, ignoring his brothers and Hermione and Harry's looks of worry. He sees the blood dripping from your hand in the dim light of the room, which prompts him to usher you much faster.

He sits you on the marble of the ensuit bathroom, the cold of the tiles barely registers to you.

He's mumbling a series of healing charms against your hand, jaw clenching when the blood flow slows enough for him to see the culprit of your bloodlust.

"Did she do this to you?" He asks, his voice as low as a growl that has your thigh clenching at the tone.

"Technically," You start with a weak laugh, "I did this to myself. She told me what to write."

"It's not funny, gorgeous." He says with a frown that you manage to wipe away with a peck of your lips.

"It's fine, Freddie."

"No. It's not."

You can practically see the plans forming in his brain and the next day, a series of crazed birds are let loose in the Great Hall, all headed straight for the newly appointed Head Mistress, Fred's smirking face meeting her's with no hesitation.

His hand sports similar wounds to you by the end of the day and you patch him up in the same fashion that he did for you.

~∞~

You don't show up to your scheduled Prefect meetings for the rest of the year, and you avoid Theo in the corridors, much to your friends' delight.

His voice in your mind is the only point of contact that you have with your Italian friend, something you keep hidden from your friends, especially Fred.

You look sad, tesoro. He says from across the Great Hall, days after your first detention with Umbridge. You sit facing the Slytherin table beside Luna Lovegood, who looks between you, Fred and Theo imperceptibly.

I'm not sad. I'm bored.

Yes because I'm sure the Gryffindor table is just a delight to be seated at.

You scoff outwardly at his sarcasm.

"What're you scoffing about, gorgeous?" Fred's voice says from behind you. You sneak a look towards Theo, who seems to have engaged himself in a conversation with Riddle and Berkshire, not showing that he was just immersed in conversation with you mere seconds ago.

"Just thinking about all the ways I want to make Umbridge suffer." You say with an offhanded shrug. Luna giggles into the palm of her hand.

"I have plenty of ideas." He says with a smirk as he drags you from your seat and into the corridors beyond the Great Hall.

Professor Umbridge may have cast a cloud of sorrow over the magic of Hogwarts, but nothing could take away the fun you'd been having in the stolen moments with your best friend's brother.

Not even the fact that he was leaving prematurely. Certainly not after you convince yourself to share your growing feelings for him, to have that snuffed out by his secret declaration.

Your chance with him is taken from you as he and George sail away from Hogwarts with guffawing laughter at the sight of Umbridge's sour face. They're off to live their lifelong dream, taking your dreams with them.

The next time you see Fred is after you watch Sirius' body fall through the veil, mind and body too numb to process any and all of your feelings. You only reach out for Teddy in your mind, a comforting voice of reason for all you'd seen. Even the strangely beautiful sight of the thestrals, that were invisible only hours before, did not phase you.

You fell into Theo's comforting embrace the moment you were able to leave the Hospital Wing, Fred Weasley long forgotten at Ron's bedside.

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[azzifudd]

streams

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary:

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

four times paige & azzi were on tiktok live

rated: teen

2.8k words

disclaimer: you kinda have to know about the lore surrounding all those lives they've been a part of to fully understand this. this is based around existing events, but obviously a fictional interpretation of those events. also a warning that this is sappy as hell

[AO3 LINK]

“Let’s go! Two more points!” Paige’s shout echoes through the room. She stands from the bed and howls at the top of her lungs.

Azzi is unfazed. She knows just how much Paige loves LeBron. In fact, to her embarrassment, she has spent countless nights staring up at his face as she laid in Paige’s bed.

She hears Amari proclaiming that she’s single and sees Paige go over asking to be dapped up.

“Someone said Paige has a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend.”

“Paige does not have a girlfriend,” Inês protests, or maybe it’s Ice, Azzi can’t really tell, too distracted by Paige who has come back over to the bed and is leaning half over her with a smirk. Azzi rolls her eyes, but still returns the soft peck that Paige presses to her lips.

Then she playfully shoves Paige away, letting her get locked into the game again while she reclines on the bed. Almost immediately, she finds herself becoming extremely bored. Maybe she’d be interested in watching if LeBron was getting the record against Steph, but he’s not. Azzi didn’t even recognize the team he’s playing against.

She grabs Paige’s ever present iPad and pulls up her favorite game.

Paige stares back at her, eyes wide and incredulous. “Azzi, we can’t play- Are you serious? She wants me to play a game right now, when LeBron’s about to get the record?”

Azzi pouts at her, but Paige doesn’t give in. Instead, she jumps up, yelling, “Lock in!” as the game returns from commercial break.

But when not even half a minute later, a foul is called, Azzi takes advantage.

“Free throws! Come play,” she demands, and Paige flops back onto the bed without protest. Inês makes a whip motion with her hand, and Paige gives her the middle finger.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Azzi whines.

Eventually, the game starts again, and Paige stands up, shouting about the gameplay. LeBron finally breaks the record and everyone screams in celebration. They all watch the ceremony before Amari begins to wrap up the live.

“Only cuz of LeBron, not cuz of Azzi.” Paige says, when a viewer mocks them all for shutting up at Azzi’s complaint. But she still crosses back from the other bed, laying beside Azzi for some quick cuddle time before she has to go back to her room.

“Paige, someone’s gonna take you to breakfast,” Amari reads.

“Better not.” Azzi mutters, under her breath as the others laugh.

Amari ends her livestream, and they spend a little more time messing around, until they realize that it’s almost curfew.

Ice turns to Azzi’s bed which has been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“She’s asleep, already?!” Paige appears to be deeply asleep, mouth slightly open and face pressed into the pillow as Azzi cuddles in behind her.

“Shush, you know she has trouble sleeping sometimes.” Azzi whispers over her head.

“Well, she’s gonna have to have trouble sleeping in our room, because I’m not getting in trouble when the coaches come for room check and lover girl is missing because she’s over here being your little spoon.” Ice grabs a pillow from Inês bed and whacks Paige in the face with it.

“Bruh, what the hell?!” Paige sputters.

“Let’s go! I want to sleep too.”

“Ugh, fine.” Paige stands and quickly gathers her things before going to stand beside Azzi’s bedside. Without a word, their friends turn away as Paige leans down to kiss Azzi goodbye.

The next morning, a knock sounds at Paige’s door.

“Ice, answer it.” Paige shoves her head under a pillow.

“You’re closer to the door.” Ice complains.

“Freshman duty.” Paige fires back.

“I’m not even a real freshman!”

Knuckles rap against the door again. “Room service!”

Paige finally drags herself to the door and pulls it open. The hotel employee wheels in a cart full of food, transferring it onto the table in the corner of the room. Paige thanks him and he leaves.

A full breakfast spread covers the table. A small white card sits by itself on a plate at the center of all the food. Ice wanders over, drawn by delicious smells. She picks up the card, snorting out a laugh at its contents.

“Thank you, Azzi.”

Paige’s face scrunches up with confusion before she takes the card from Ice’s outstretched hand.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Love, Not Paige’s girlfriend

//

Azzi wakes to the sun shining directly into her face and her bed moving beneath her.

It’s only when the bed groans in pain that she realizes it’s not the bed that’s moving, it’s Paige beneath her, burying her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“Why do you sleep with your blinds open?” Paige hisses, clearly as hungover as Azzi feels.

“I do not sleep with my blinds open,” Azzi rasps, unable to raise her voice above a whisper as her head pounds. “I didn’t have time to close them after you threw me onto the bed and koala bear’d onto me.”

“You know I get cuddly when I’m drunk.”

It’s an understatement. Azzi is still foggy on some of last night’s events, but she can remember how Paige had spent half the night latched onto their teammates and the other with her hands glued to Azzi’s body.

Azzi throws the blanket over both their heads, hoping the darkness can help them recover before they have to wake up. But before they can get any meaningful rest, a knock sounds at the door.

“Hey, are you guys decent?” Caroline’s voice comes through the door. “I’m coming in, in three, two, one.”

She still gives them a few more seconds. She’s one of the only girls on the team that hasn’t walked in on them, and she wants to keep it that way.

Azzi has poked her head back out of her sheets, but Paige remains hidden, just a lump in the blankets.

Caroline places a bottle of Gatorade and a bottle of coconut water on the bedside table alongside some pain killers.

“Caroline, my angel.”

Azzi sits up, throwing back the pills with a deep swig of the coconut water. She nudges Paige, who simply rolls over and buries her face in Azzi’s stomach.

“Dude, drink the Gatorade.”

Paige cracks an eye, looking up pitifully. “Feed me.”

“Ugh.” Caroline makes a disgusted noise. “Well, when you guys are good, Ice brought breakfast. Not sure how much you remember from last night because you both were pretty gone, but something happened on Ice’s live that you’ll wanna see.”

“Um, that don’t sound too good.” Paige has finally propped herself up to take light sips of the Gatorade that Azzi has passed to her.

“It’s not a huge deal,” Caroline says, clapping her hands together. “Just something you should know about.”

“We’ll be out soon,” Azzi replies, and then Caroline exits, leaving a confused Paige and Azzi behind her.

Azzi sighs and reaches for her phone, shocked to see her group chat with her brothers has over ten unread messages.

Jon Wanna explain why my friend asked me if it was true that you and Paige were making out at a bar last night

Jose WHAAAAAAT

The rest of the texts are mostly them arguing about a clip on tiktok and asking Azzi if it means that she and Paige are coming out.

She tilts the phone to let Paige read the messages.

“What the fuck? Ice! Isuneh!” Paige gets out of bed, suddenly very awake and heads toward the dining area, Azzi following close behind.

A bunch of the girls are gathered at the dining area, some eating and some clearly waiting out their hangovers.

“Good morning, Paige and Azzi! I brought breakfast.” Ice says, her voice sounding falsely positive.

“What happened last night?” Paige questions, taking the last available seat next to Ice and pulling Azzi to sit on her lap.

Ice winces and slides her phone over. “Before y’all get too mad, it’s been wiped from TikTok and not that many people saw it.”

The video is only a few seconds long, a grainy snippet from Ice’s livestream from the night before. The camera pans along the bar, showing Jana, then Caroline deep in conversation with Azzi who is wrapped up in Paige’s embrace. They watch as Paige’s hands roam from low on Azzi’s hips, up toward her back as she turns toward Paige with a hand on her face. And then the camera is jerking and the frame fills with Ice’s shocked expression.

“Bro, you need to warn us when you’re on live. That could’ve been so much worse.” If Ice had kept her camera on them for even a second more, it would have been much worse.

“I’m sorry, but I did! It’s not my fault you can’t keep your grabby hands off!”

“You know I can’t help it. Did you see her last night?”

Even now, Paige’s arms are wrapped around Azzi’s waist, and her chin is tucked over her shoulder as they look down at Ice’s phone.

Ice rolls her eyes as Azzi smiles, pleased at the comment.

Suddenly, the smile drops as Azzi looks sharply at Ice. “No more lives. You’re banned.”

“What?! That’s not fair!” Ice looks pleadingly at Paige, always the more lenient of the pair.

“Let’s just chill on the lives for a bit, aight? At least until this blows over.”

Everyone agrees, and after Ice apologizes one more time, Paige and Azzi take their breakfast back to Azzi’s room so they can get some more sleep.

Paige only lasts three days before she lets Ice and KK back on live.

//

It’s nearing 11:30 PM when Paige tells Ice and KK that she’s heading out.

“Girl, boo.” KK shoots her a thumbs down. “I thought we were gonna play some more Fortnite.”

“Nah, I’m tired dude. Supervising y’all on live took a lot out of me.” Paige smirks as KK rolls her eyes and Ice, the main instigator in most of their slip ups, muffles her laughter.

Paige leaves them to their own devices, slipping out of the apartment. She doesn’t tell them the real reason she’s leaving early, that Azzi had made it clear that if Paige showed up at her door past midnight, they would both be sleeping alone that night. The girl takes her sleep seriously.

She can imagine how much shit she would get from the girls if they knew how she refused to even consider spending a single night away from Azzi, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be near Azzi, always.

Paige lets herself into Azzi’s apartment, which is dark and quiet, with all its occupants asleep or on the way. She heads into the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the brush she keeps there, and gets ready for bed.

When she finally makes her way to Azzi’s room, she’s surprised to see light still shining from beneath the crack of the door. She eases the door open, as quiet as she can. She isn’t surprised to find Azzi asleep, with a book in her lap and her glasses falling off her face.

Paige doesn’t try to stop the grin that spreads across her face at the sight. She moves closer, putting the book on the bedside table and carefully sliding Azzi’s glasses off her face. Then, she turns off the light, flooding the room with darkness.

“Mm,” Azzi hums as Paige slips under the covers next to her.

Paige shushes her, trying to ease her back into sleep as she pulls Azzi’s head to rest on her chest.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Azzi murmurs something else into Paige’s neck, clearly more awake now.

“Watch out for my boyfriend.”

Paige has already closed her eyes, but they shoot open when she registers what Azzi has said.

“Huh?”

Azzi smiles lazily, stretching her body until she’s pressed head to toe against Paige’s.

“Y’know since I apparently have a boyfriend now, he probably wouldn’t like finding me in bed with someone else.” Their legs tangle together beneath the sheets.

Azzi’s words finally register, and Paige groans in understanding.

“What the hell? How’d you find out already?”

It couldn’t have been an hour since the moment where Paige had had a too visible reaction to KK reading a fan’s comment claiming Azzi had a boyfriend and that she was with him at that time. She hadn’t been able to stop her growing smile, and before she even realized it, she was scratching awkwardly at the bridge of her nose, trying to distract from her reaction and Ice and KK’s muffled laughter.

“Ice texted me, but I’m sure it’s all over Tiktok already.”

Azzi shifts again, until she’s seated astride Paige’s hips, hands splayed across the hard, flat plane of Paige’s abdomen. Paige inhales sharply as the other girl begins a slow glide in her lap, hands immediately find their place among familiar curves.

With a sure grip, Paige guides Azzi into a heavy grind, pulling their bodies together until they are both panting. Azzi dips her head to give Paige a searing kiss, tasting mint and something distinctly Paige.

When they part, Paige snarkily says, “What would your man say about you kissing someone else like that?” But the effect is slightly lessened by how breathless she is.

Azzi reaches down to tug her shirt over her head before leaning down again. She whispers, “Stop talking,” against Paige’s lips. Paige does.

//

When Azzi texts that she’s on her way over to the hotel, Paige drops Drew off with Ice and heads to the market next door. By the time she’s done, Azzi’s dad has dropped her off at the front.

It’s been just over a week since Paige has seen her, but Azzi is always a sight for sore eyes. She looks smaller than usual with the big brace over her knee, and when Paige hugs her hello, she holds on just a little longer than what might be considered casual, pressing her face to her favorite spot where Azzi’s neck meets her shoulder and sneaking a kiss there.

“I missed you,” Azzi breathes into her shoulder.

They text almost constantly, and are on FaceTime whenever they’re free, but it’s not the same as being together. It takes Paige back to the years before UConn, before she knew what it really meant that she would sometimes miss Azzi so much it felt like a wound.

She squeezes Azzi around her waist one more time before pulling back and leading her up to the room. She swipes the key to unlock the door and holds it open so Azzi can limp through in front of her.

Ice has taken Drew to bother some of the other girls, so they can have some much appreciated time alone.

Paige has barely shut the door behind her when Azzi is crowding her up against it, throwing her arms around her shoulders as her crutches clatter to the floor. Paige catches her around the waist, dropping her shopping bag on the floor, and lets Azzi kiss the hell out of her.

“You really missed me, huh?” Paige rasps as Azzi moves her lips down the line of her jaw, her neck. Her hands reach down to palm Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer and squeezing.

She knows something is wrong when Azzi pulls back, releasing a choked gasp. Her head ducks down to stare at her knee, throbbing at the sudden movement. When she looks up at Paige again, her eyes are wet.

“I can’t even kiss you without hurting myself.” Azzi lets out a bitter laugh.

Paige remembers the back and forth of emotions that came with such a big injury. How one moment it could be like nothing had happened, but then something would remind you and the world would feel like it was crashing down on you.

She pulls Azzi into the room, helping her to take a seat at the end of one of the beds before going back to the door to pick up her bag.

Paige comes back to kneel in front of Azzi handing her the bag with an uncharacteristically shy look on her face. Azzi pulls out an only slightly crushed bouquet, two family sized bags of her favorite chips, and a stuffed plushie.

Azzi stares at the gifts for a second. She shouldn’t be surprised at Paige’s thoughtfulness, not when she’s been this way for as long as they’ve known each other.

But she loves how Paige can still surprise her after this many years. She just loves her.

So she places the gifts gently to the side, cups Paige’s face between her hands, kisses her softly, and tells her just that.

💗 I love you, Pookie. 💗 9:13

😡🙄 9:14

love you too 9:15

[malk1ns]

i read a fic recently with rookie sid and 2010 geno and i’ve been thinking of that a lot so… for your prompt maybe baby sid being enamored by an older geno? nsfw or pg is up to you :P merry christmas to you too btw!!

ok so once upon a time i wrote this fic which is pretty much exactly that premise! and i really loved writing it and it's still one of my personal favorites of mine, so i'm going to take your prompt and use it as an excuse to write a wee little follow-up, from sid's point of view...no smut or anything in this one, just a cranky 22 year old with a massive (reciprocated) crush on his captain. you'll have to read the first one for this to make sense!

Sid thought it would get easier when his dad retired.

Well, really, he expected that after a couple of months he wouldn't feel so desperate for Geno all the time. Not that he wouldn't still want him, of course not, Geno was the defining catalyst of Sid's sexual awakening and the star of 90% of his fantasies from adolescence onwards, but Sid thought that maybe after the first few times, when Geno didn't get sick of him or tell him they needed to stop, he'd be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing.

As it happens, though, he spent the rest of his rookie year in single-minded pursuit of two things: 100 points, and Geno's dick.

It's a good thing he had his dad's example to make sure he stayed focused on his game. If his work ethic and internal motivation weren't already firmly ingrained, Sid might have let his head be turned so far by getting what he wanted after so much time that he let his game slip.

Geno probably wouldn't have let that happen, though. He takes hockey more seriously than Sid does, even, and for as much time as they spent sneaking around to be together, Sid thinks they probably doubled that in extra ice time after practice, practicing one-timers and head-fakes and set plays to try out on the man advantage.

Sid's dad was always there too, is the thing. Sid lives at home still, his mom won't let him buy his own place until he signs his first real contract and isn't blowing an entire season's worth of income on a house, and Sid very quickly ran out of reasons to get his dad to head home early and let Geno drive him back. It made the time with Geno he managed to steal all the better.

Sid, maybe stupidly, thought that once his rookie year was over, when his dad officially retired and wasn't on the team anymore, he'd have a little more separation from his parents at the rink.

His dad barely stayed retired two months before his mom practically pushed him out the door directly into the goalie development role the Penguins offered him, though, and Sid's sophomore season starts the same way his rookie year did—sitting in the passenger seat of his Dad's truck, glaring out the window on the way to practice.

He must be making quite a face, because Geno's already there and half-changed into his gear when Sid walks into the locker room, and when he sees Sid's expression he does that thing with his jaw where he's trying not to laugh out loud.

Sid only scowls harder. Even Geno in his hockey pants and nothing else isn't enough to cheer him up.

It ends up turning out okay, though. Sid's mom stops asking so many questions about where he's going at night when his dad isn't around to give her the exact run-down of official team activities. Sid isn't sharing a hotel room on roadies anymore, so if he sneaks out after curfew and tiptoes down the hall to Geno's room, there's nobody to tattle, and no chance that he'll run into his dad out looking for the ice machine. And his dad gets so wrapped up in working with the goalies that they never finish practice at the same time, so if Sid makes some vague excuse about reviewing tape with the power play unit and he'll catch a ride, his dad waves him off without protest.

His schedule opens up, just like that. And Geno's more than happy to fill his time, tumbling Sid into bed and blowing his mind at every available opportunity. Their first California road trip, the one with built-in off-days for recreation, had been a revelation—after figuring out that yes, Geno really can eat someone out until they cry, Sid spent their beach day so distracted he was forced out of the volleyball game for bringing his team down.

There's a contract waiting for him on July 1, Sid knows. Pat hasn't sent him the details yet, but Sid knows it's good, something that will set him up for life pretty much, with signing bonuses to protect his earnings in case of another lockout and full trade protection as soon as he's eligible.

He's already talked to the realtor most of the guys use. She'd offered a few options in Cranberry, close to the practice facilities and where he grew up, but Sid told her he wants to get a little distance from his folks, somewhere he can set up his own house and not have his mom tempted to walk down the block and redecorate every other week.

And if the neighborhood he told her to focus on is Geno's, well, Sid's favorite breakfast place is there too, and he's always liked older parts of the city, with big trees and historic homes.

The fact that he could be within a ten-minute drive of Geno's house is just an extra perk.

[slavicdelight]

METANOIA

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader

Summary: Metanoia - the journey of changing your mind, heart, self and way of life

Warnings: slightly ooc Tom, pureblood ideas, hits of murder

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

Tom Riddle was a name recognized by everyone at Hogwarts. The infamous Slytherin Head Boy commanded respect from every student and even from professors, thanks to the aura surrounding him. However, what most people didn't know, or perhaps didn't care to notice, was that there was something sinister lurking behind his captivating gaze and mannerisms.

His friend group, constantly present by his side, consisted of members from the most well-known pureblood families. Tom considered himself superior to them because he possessed the blood of the noble Salazar Slytherin. By the age of 19, he had already committed horrifying acts, such as opening the Chamber of Secrets during his 5th year, resulting in the death of Myrtle Warren. He also murdered his remaining family around the same time. Furthermore, he created Horcruxes in order to reach immortality, which was one of his goals and the initial step towards becoming the greatest dark wizard in history.

Tom was a skilled manipulator. He had the ability to hide his true emotions, always putting on a mask of politeness. In addition, he was brilliant and could be described as an over-achiever. Tom thoroughly planned everything and never allowed setbacks to hinder him. There was only one person who saw right through him - Dumbledore, the person Tom despised the most in the entire school.

Tonight, Tom was strolling through the hallways of Hogwarts, carrying out his patrols as a Head Boy. Although it was generally a mundane duty, it had its advantages. One of them was being out after curfew without anyone questioning it. The corridors were dimly lit, so Tom had to cast a spell to produce light to see clearly."Lumos." he muttered, before continuing on his way. It appeared to be another uneventful night, where nothing of particular interest occurred.

As he was heading back to the Slytherin dorms, someone bumped into him, causing both teenagers to fall to the ground. "I'm so sorry," said a girl who appeared to be about the same age as him, possibly a year younger. He was about to reprimand her for running into him and give her detention for breaking curfew, but then he looked at her and was instantly captivated by the most beautiful pair of eyes he had even seen. They were warm and welcoming, but what truly enthralled him was their enchanting violet color, which sparkled under the light emerging from his wand.

"I should've watched where I was going," continued the witch. He cleared his throat and gave her a cold stare, trying to hide his intrigue. "Why aren't you in your dorm? It's past curfew," Tom questioned the girl. Another surprising thing was that he had no idea who she was. He only noticed the Ravenclaw emblem on her robes, indicating that she was a member of the eagle house. The Slytherin prided himself on knowing almost everyone at school, from students to professors, yet he didn't know her. How could someone with such captivating eyes escape his attention? "Oh, right. I got caught up in the library and forgot about the curfew," she explained. "I'll go straight to bed." With that, she tried to pass him and walk away.

She wanted to end the interaction as quickly as possible, knowing that Tom Riddle was trouble. Despite his perfect student persona, she sensed a hidden darkness beneath the surface and wanted to avoid getting involved. "Now, now. I can't possibly let the witch with such incredible eyes leave without knowing her name, can I?" he asked, causing her to freeze. "I fail to see how my name is of any interest to you, Riddle. I would prefer you not knowing it and allowing me to go.”

Tom didn't expect his charm not to work, but he hid his surprise. He wondered if the girl was brave or stupid, perhaps both. She didn't know that she piqued his interest, and that was something dangerous. "It hardly seems fair that you know me, but I don't know you, don't you think?" He took a step closer to her but didn't predict what she would do next. "No, I don't," she said, while taking a step back and bolting in another direction. The Head Boy simply stood there and let her get away. 'Let her run,' he thought. 'I shall find her anyway.' And with that, he continued on his way to the dorms.

The next morning, during breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall in search of her. Tom tried to be discreet, but his best friend, Abraxas Malfoy, noticed. Abraxas was his most reliable follower, someone Tom could trust. "What are you looking for, Riddle?" he asked. The boy with raven hair turned to glare at him and said, "It's none of your business, Malfoy." He was becoming increasingly frustrated that the witch from the previous night was nowhere to be found.

Finally, the girl made her entrance, walking into the hall accompanied by another girl. They both headed towards the Ravenclaw's table and took a seat. He couldn't help but gaze at her. It was as if she sensed his gaze, as she turned and looked directly into his eyes. Their staring contest continued until Headmaster Dippet began greeting students and wishing them a good day.

After finishing his meal, Tom made his way to the Potions classroom, his first subject of the day. He enjoyed this class, despite Professor Slughorn being a bit overwhelming. Tom was the professor's favorite student, excelling in this class just as he did in every other. He was an exceptionally talented wizard.

It turned out he shared the class with the violet-eyed witch. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before. He took his usual seat and waited for the Ravenclaw student to enter, which didn't take long. She sat two rows ahead of him, accompanied by a boy he recognized as the Ravenclaw's seeker. Shortly after, Slughorn entered and the lesson began. Today, they had to brew an advanced potion called the Elixir to Induce Euphoria in pairs. As always, Tom was the first to finish his potion, with the help of his partner, Rosier. The potions professor, impressed with their work, allowed them to leave early. Tom decided to wait outside the classroom to talk to the girl who had sparked his interest and learn more about her.

As the girl walked out, he quickly grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the abandoned broom closet across the hall. She protested, but wasn't strong enough to break free from his grasp. Tom pushed her inside and blocked the entrance.

"Hello again," he said, noticing the anger on the girl's face. "What do you think you're doing? Let me go!" she yelled, attempting to escape from the classroom.

"No, I don't think I will," Tom replied. "What do you want, Riddle?" she questioned, gritting her teeth. Her captivating eyes locked with his, and he could swear they had the power to melt a man. But he was no ordinary man, and he wouldn't allow that to defeat him. "I already told you what I want," he started, before she interrupted, "and I already told you that you won't have that." The girl had some nerve, he had to give her that. "Listen, darling, either you tell me your name yourself or I'll find out on my own. But I would prefer to hear it from your beautiful lips.”

"And what?" she spat, her eyes narrowing with a mix of defiance and fear. "Will you force it out of me?" If looks could kill, he would already be six feet under. Tom's lips curled into a malicious smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You'll soon discover that I can be very..." He paused, relishing in the anticipation he was building. "...persuasive." The words hung in the air, sending a shiver down her spine. As he observed her reaction, he couldn't help but notice the subtle trembling of her breath, a sign that his presence and words were affecting her.

“If I tell you my name, would you stop pestering me about it?” she asked not looking into his eyes. Tom grabbed her chin and forced her head up, just enough for him to see her eyes. The Slytherin just nodded and took a step back. “Fine. My name is Y/N” she finally answered and moved past him, heading straight for the door. As Y/N was walking away she heard him say “Such a beautiful name, for someone with such extraodrinary eyes.”

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine as she left the broom closet, the encounter with Tom Riddle leaving her unsettled. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just opened a door to a world of complications. Her day continued with classes, but her mind kept wandering back to the mysterious encounter with the enigmatic Head Boy.

Days turned into weeks, and Tom's fascination with Y/N only deepened. He started to make subtle attempts to engage her in conversation during Potions class or whenever their paths crossed in the hallways. Y/N, however, remained guarded, careful not to reveal too much about herself. She sensed danger around Tom, but there was also a part of her that felt an inexplicable connection, an undeniable intrigue that kept her from avoiding him completely. She didn’t like it, preferring to stay away from the drama that would undeniably follow her once she got too involved with the boy.

As time passed, Tom's pursuit became more relentless. He would show up unexpectedly in places where Y/N was, asking about her interests, her family, and her background. Y/N, althrough in the beginning sheltered and slightly annoyed, soon found herself drawn into conversations that danced on the edge of forbidden topics, and Tom, turn, discovered that there was more to Y/N than met the eye.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Tom found Y/N sitting by the Black Lake,reading a book . He approached her cautiously, and for the first time, his demeanor seemed less calculated, more genuine."You're a puzzle, Y/N," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I can't quite figure you out." Y/N turned to look at him, her violet eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. "Maybe some puzzles are meant to remain unsolved," she replied cryptically. Tom chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Maybe so, yet here we are. Both of us puzzling each other. But I do enjoy the challenge." he admitted. "And you, my dear, are the most intriguing challenge I've found at Hogwarts so far."

As the weeks turned into months, their interactions became more complex. Y/N found herself reluctantly drawn to Tom's charisma and intelligence, while Tom, discovered a more vulnerable side of himself. He couldn't quite understand why Y/N had such an effect on him, but he was determined to find out.

Their dynamic took a turn one evening in the Hogwarts library. Tom, managed to convince Y/N to join him in exploring the restricted section. As they looked through ancient tomes and hidden spells, Y/N couldn't ignore the growing tension between them. In the quiet space of the library, Tom leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "There's something about you, Y/N," he murmured, his breath sending shivers across her skin. "Something that both intrigues and unsettles me." Y/N looked at him curiously and asked “What is so unsettling about me?”. Tom only looked at her and leaning closer said “You’re making me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

As they continued their meetings, the lines between friend and enemy slowly became blurred. Tom’s past and his ambitions started to rub off on her, making her question everything. But she wasn’t weak and wanted to stay true to the right side. She wasn’t about to go down the same path as the Slytherin boy, and wanted to make him see that it was wrong. Little did she know that the choices made in the upcoming months would shape the destiny of the wizarding world.

As the weeks unfolded, Y/N found herself in a dangerous position. The more time she spent with Tom Riddle, the clearer it became that he was wavering on the edge of darkness. His thirst for power, his relentless pursuit of immortality, and the shadows of his past painted a grim picture. Yet, among all this darkness, Y/N saw moments of vulnerability, moments where the mask slipped, revealing a fractured soul. Y/N couldn't ignore the pull she felt toward Tom, a pull that went beyond fascination. Beneath his charming facade, she noticed loneliness that mirrored her own.

One evening, as snowflakes danced outside the castle windows, Y/N found Tom alone in the library. The fire cast a glow on his face, making him appear more handsome than ever. Y/N hesitated but she knew she had to ask the next question. "Tom," she began softly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you." He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting hers. "Ask away, Y/N."

"Why are you so afraid of letting people in?" she inquired, her voice gentle but filled with genuine curiosity. Tom's eyes moved towards her, she could see suffering behind them. He took a deep breath before replying to her."People often betray and are fake in order to get what they want from you. After they get it, they leave and never come back.” Y/N took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "But it's also lonely, isn't it? To carry the weight of responsibilities on your shoulders without anyone to share it with."

Tom's mask wavered, revealing the boy beneath the facade. "Loneliness is a small price to pay for greatness," he stated, but a small amount of doubt could be seen in his eyes. "Maybe attaining greatness isn’t meant to be done alone." Y/N suggested. "Maybe it's in the connections we make, the people we let in"

In the days that followed, Y/N continued to challenge Tom's perspective. She introduced him to the joy of laughter, the warmth of genuine friendships, and the beauty of simple moments. As the walls around his heart slowly crumbled, Y/N became a beacon of light in his world, a reminder that there was more to life than power and darkness.

One evening, beneath the sky covered in stars, Y/N and Tom found themselves strolling through the Hogwarts grounds. Tom, usually composed, seemed uncertain, as if something was bothering him. "You don't have to be alone, Tom," Y/N whispered, her words carrying the weight of sincerity. "There's goodness in you, which you only have to choose." For the first time, Tom Riddle looked genuinely conflicted. The darkness within him warred with the flickers of light that Y/N had ignited. He was standing on the crossroads where the choices made would shape the future.

In the quiet of the night, Y/N extended her hand, a silent invitation to choose a different path. Tom hesitated, his gaze locking onto hers. And in that moment, the boy who had been consumed by shadows took a small step toward the light, changing the course of history forever. The journey towards redemption would be a long one, but with Y/N by his side, Tom Riddle was confident in succeeding. He realized that greatness could be found not in the pursuit of power but in the capacity to love and be loved.

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A/N: let me introduce you to my first ever Tom Riddle imagine. The obsession I have with this man is unhealthy. Anyway let me know if you enjoyed it. Thank you for all the support ♡

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Damian is NOT a morning person

What I don't understand is that I see so much content and read so many fics that have Damian waking up at like 5AM. Just because he's routine and skilled doesn't automatically mean he's an early bird- night owls are extremely productive too. Plus, the boy literally patrols at NIGHT. He takes shifts with his Gotham family throughout the night so Gotham is protected during it's most dangerous hours. And I'm not an expert on assassination but I find it hard to believe that they would strike in broad daylight unless it's a special hit, and even then would they do it in the early morning? Our favorite demon spawn probably learned how to kill using the night to his advantage and he was likely used to being up extremely late for that reason.

And I know in Son of Batman Alfred made a comment to Bats that Damian had been in the yard training since 5, but remember that he had traveled halfway across the world the night before from Nada Parbat to Gotham, so he was very likely just jetlagged.

Jon even makes fun of Damian's sleep schedule on multiple occasions because being a farm kid, Jon's used to waking up with the sun and he finds it funny that Damian hates waking up that early. Here's a panel from one of their comics (though I don't remember which one):

All I'm saying is that yeah, Damian being all stoic and regime and waking up at 5 is cool but inaccurate, but we are all missing the comedy that is the normally put together Damian being grouchy AF by nothing more than the existence of the sun in the morning. The boy hates the sun. Catch him anytime before 8 and he'll be on the verge of pulling a katana on it. Do NOT drag him out of bed in the morning unless you want to see an unfiltered side of him that's somehow even worse than what you usually get.

Anywho, I don't know how as a fanbase we all collectively looked at Damian what-is-curfew Wayne and decided that he's totally fine with being up before dawn. I'm sure somewhere in the DC universe he's seething because Duke accidentally dropped something in the manor and the crash woke him up at the ungodly hour that is 7 in the morning.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 37

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Friday, January 15; 6:00 AM -  Lucy's Room.

Even though the ringtone is more pleasant than the alarm in our dorm, it doesn’t stop me from groaning and burying my head in the pillow when it echoes through the room. I hate waking up, no matter what sound comes out of the alarm. I feel a light pressure on my back, encouraging me to roll onto my stomach.

"Get up, Ona."

"No," I mumble.

We stay like this for a little while. I start to worry when her presence lingers on me longer than usual. This isn’t normal. I turn my head to the side to check on her. A smile creeps onto my face when I see her eyes are closed. My movement must have woken her up because she opens one eye, then the other.

"Is getting up tough, Miss Bronze?"

"Whose fault is that?"

"It’s not like I didn’t warn you..."

I clutch my pillow a bit tighter. Guilt washes over me when I see her like this. She hasn’t been spared during the last five nights I’ve spent here. She has as many dark circles under her beautiful eyes as I do.

"I don’t blame you, Ona. But get up now, or we’ll be late."

"Hmm... Don’t feel like it."

Instead of listening to her, I roll over in her bed, pulling the comforter over my head to escape her. Silence reigns until I feel a foot in my stomach, sending me tumbling off the bed. I open my eyes wide to see her grinning triumphantly. The shock leaves me speechless.

"I already let you sleep in my bed, even though I tell you every night it’s the last time... At least do me the honor of getting out when I tell you to, will you?"

I groan as she gets up and walks past me, but I smile when I’m sure she’s in the bathroom. This girl is completely crazy, yet I like her more and more every day. I didn’t think that was possible. Neither did I expect my episodes to worsen after coming to this room. Neither of us was prepared for it. Lucy even thought I had lied about the previous ones, but that wasn’t the case. In the end, we realized the only way for me to fall back asleep after an episode is to sleep in her arms until morning. If that doesn’t happen, I can’t get back to sleep for at least one or two hours.  Lucy kept telling me each time that it would be the last time and that we’d find another solution, but here we are, five nights in.

"Ona," she scolds as she comes out of the bathroom, standing in front of me with her arms crossed. "You’re really pushing it. Get up, now!"

"Alright, I’m getting up!"

"You better be! Hurry up, we’re leaving in ten minutes, max."

The one thing that hasn’t changed since coming here is her commanding nature. Sometimes I think it’s just a front to make her orders seem more fun. But deep down, I know that’s not the case. She wouldn’t hesitate to punish me if I didn’t listen. She has the authority, so she takes advantage of it. With these thoughts, I head to the bathroom, where my things are already set. Lucy has managed to change all my habits in less than a week. She makes me prepare my clothes the night before, and sometimes we even go to bed earlier than the imposed curfew to catch up on sleep. That’s unheard of for me. I quickly get dressed, brush my teeth, and apply some makeup. I barely have time to fix my hair when the door opens, and  Lucy walks in.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep, I just need to grab my jacket and bag."

 Lucy hands me my jacket with a small smile. In her other hand, I also see my bag.

"Thanks," I say, holding back an eye roll.

I’ve discovered that  Lucy is very particular about order. I thought I was meticulous, but she’s on another level. Her room is always impeccably tidy, and she’s incredibly organized. Case in point: our suitcases are already packed, just waiting for our return later this afternoon. Once everything is set, we leave her room. We greet an instructor who came out at the same time as us, then I follow  Lucy down the stairs. I still feel a bit strange being here, but I’m no longer afraid of what her colleagues think. All the educators were informed that I’ve been staying with Lucy ever since a teacher caught me in the hallways when I was heading to her room alone one night. I had been hanging out late with Alexia, not paying attention to the time. The teacher dragged me to the principal’s office without listening to a word I said. He felt pretty foolish when Wiegman explained the situation to him.

"Shall we meet up later?"  Lucy asks me.

"Yep, I’ll meet you at the car, then?"

"Around one o’clock, yes."

"Alright, have a good morning."

"Thanks, you too."

We’ve settled into a bit of a routine. I leave her to wait for her friend at the back door of my dorm while I head to the cafeteria to meet up with mine. Alexia always waits for me out front to ask how my night went. No one has noticed our routine yet because we always join them at the table anyway. Today, we’re the last ones to arrive. We sit in our usual spots with our full trays and join in on the discussions already happening during our absence. It’s the best part of the day. Since we wake up early, we always have time to chat until eight o’clock. Sometimes, there are exceptions where we leave the cafeteria early, like today. I don’t return to  Lucy’s room. I’m not allowed to. Besides, I know she needs to shower since she always goes for a run after breakfast. Since I live with her, I’ve started to learn her habits. We already spent a lot of time together, but now it’s even more. However, I’ve been trying to balance things since Alexia confessed that she misses me. I realized I was spending more time with  Lucy, so I decided to organize myself better. Now, I dedicate my classes and free time before meals to Alexia and my evenings to Lucy in her room. I’ll see how I manage once I’m swamped with homework again, as I’ve asked to work in Lucy’s office, and I know she won’t forget that. In the meantime, I head to class. The day goes relatively well. For a week now, we haven’t really been following the lessons since these are our last few weeks. We’re still working, but nothing important, so we end up laughing a lot with Alexia, making the most of our last two hours together. Maybe too much, as we get reprimanded by our teachers quite a bit. Today is no exception.

"Seriously, you should’ve seen her face when I told her," she giggles, talking about her girlfriend without any discretion. "It was hilarious!"

"Alright, enough!" shouts the teacher. "Out, both of you! Now!"

I widen my eyes at the tone our teacher suddenly took. I expected him to react again after his first warning, but not this harshly. He’s the only one who’s gone so far as to kick us out. We must have pushed him to his limit. Our teacher in the first class was more lenient with us.

"No, it’s fine, we’ll calm down," my neighbor replies.

"You���ve already told me that ten minutes ago," he retorts. "And the rest of the week too. This is the last straw. Out!"

To accompany his words, he points to the door. Alexia reluctantly packs up her things. She gives me a stern look to prompt me to do the same when she notices I’m not moving. The only problem is that I’m frozen. I’m going to be in so much trouble if I leave this room.

"Batlle, do you need a special invitation?"

"No, it’s fine..."

"Excuse me?!"

I don’t reply anymore, afraid of making things worse and getting written up too. It wouldn’t be the first time. I grab my bag and join Alexia, who is already at the door. As if that wasn’t enough, the teacher asks another student to escort us to Bronze' office. I’m in so much trouble. Ale is teasing me.

"Oh, come on, you shouldn’t be that scared! It’s been ages since Bronze punished you."

"You don’t get it. If I’m denied the weekend because of this, I’m a dead girl!"

"You’re overreacting," she laughs.

Oh no, I’m not. She doesn’t understand why I’m so scared. We arrive at my supervisor’s office quicker than I would’ve liked. Two pairs of eyes are on us as the student escorting us knocks on the door. My first instinct is to stare at my feet.

"Ooh... This doesn’t look good," Ingrid comments.

I bite my lip. If she caught on that fast, I have no doubt  Lucy will too. I hear the latter stand up from my peripheral vision. I fidget with my fingers, dreading making eye contact with her.

"What’s going on?"

"I—," my classmate tries to explain.

"I wasn’t talking to you," she interrupts. « Ona?"

- We-

- I said Ona, snaps Lucy harshly in response to Alexia’s attempt to speak.

I lift my head for the first time since I’ve been here. I realize that I’ve positioned myself behind Alexia without meaning to. To my surprise,  Lucy doesn’t look angry, or she’s hiding it very well. She raises an eyebrow when our eyes meet and crosses her arms.

- We got kicked out, I mumble.

- Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.

I swallow hard. She’s right about one thing—she’s a very good actress. She’s angry. I doubt her lack of sleep will help matters. I press myself against the wall as she approaches us. She sighs, ripping the paper from Megan’s hands violently.

- Alright. Go back to class.

She’s so terrified that she bumps into me as she leaves the room.  Lucy doesn’t take her eyes off me, which also tends to scare me.

- Reasons? she asks me.

- Talking...

- Talking? she repeats, raising her voice. Are you kidding me?!

- No...

- I can’t believe it, she says bitterly. You promised me you wouldn’t do it again! And here you are, as soon as I loosen the reins just a little, you do it again, she snaps at me.

- Luce-

- Oh no, no, she cuts me off. Shut up, will you!

- Whoa, calm down, Ingrid intervenes. Have you seen her face or what?! She was already terrified just walking through the door! she defends me. I think she’s learned her lesson, right Ona?

I nod timidly, thanking her with a look, unable to speak. I knew she would be mad at me. Even though she’s my friend, she’s always prioritized her role as supervisor. I turn my eyes back to her when she sighs again. Her hand rubs her forehead, as if she has a migraine.

- I’m sorry, she says. I’m sleep-deprived.

- Let’s look at the bright side. We can now finish our work faster, Ingrid says, trying to lighten the mood.

 Lucy doesn’t say anything else, just gestures for me to sit in my usual spot. Alexia, who still hasn’t said a word, simply gives me a sorry expression, realizing that I was completely right to be scared.

- Well, I guess I’ll team up with mini Putellas then, Ingrid says. Come sit with me, will you?

Alexia follows the orders she’s given. I smile slightly, noticing she’s not used to being here. I’m sure it’s the first time she’s been kicked out.

- Does this change anything about our weekend? I ask Lucy timidly, who’s now standing in front of me.

- No, but you won’t have the next one, and neither will I.

- Why not?

- Because that was part of the deal with Wiegman! she informs me. How can I go if you’re not sleeping at night?

Now I feel guilty. I should have negotiated to stay in class and asked for a different seat, for example. It’s too late to come up with solutions.  Lucy slides a sheet of paper in front of me. I don’t understand her intention until she asks me to read out the numbers to help her with her work.

- Can I go to the bathroom first?

- You’re kidding me, right?

I bite my lip, wanting to collect myself before diving into her work. Her bad mood makes me anxious. She grants me this favor but insists on coming with me. I say nothing, even though I made the request to get away from her. When we arrive at the bathroom, I only breathe when I’m locked in a stall.

- I’m sorry... I dare to say once I can no longer see her.

- I’m the one who should be sorry, she surprises me by replying. You could have held off for your last class at least.

Not knowing what to say, I stay silent. I come out of the stall after flushing and stand beside her to wash my hands. I look up into the mirror when a pair of lips touches my cheek. The contact lasts longer than it should. I remain speechless at this more-than-pleasant gesture.

- Do me a favor and don’t get kicked out again for the rest of the year. I won’t be as lenient next time, knowing what you’ve become. Got it?

- Yeah... Sorry again about your weekend... There’s no chance I’ll have it.

- I’ll make sure you don’t. That will be your punishment, she tells me. I had planned to offer you a weekend in the Alps with my friends. Now I’ll have to reschedule everything since I can’t go anymore, and I’m not sure if you’ll be invited then.

- What’s this about...?

- I wanted to surprise you since I’m forbidding you to go back to Barcelona.

- You would have taken me with you...?

- Of course.

- And now you don’t want to take me?

- Not until you prove you deserve it.

She winks at me before leaving the room. I quickly toss my paper towel and follow her. Damn it! I’ve messed everything up! I’m sure she’s trying to make me feel guilty, and it’s working perfectly. I try to convince her to change her mind on the way back, but it’s no use.

- Please, Luc-

She puts her finger on my mouth, making me stop so I don’t run into her. I look around and see that we’re back at the office, and our friends are laughing at us.

- That’s enough. I said no.

- So, are you two best friends again? Ingrid asks.

- No, she’s just trying to persuade me to take her on the weekend we planned.

- Oh... I forgot about that... Damn. Can’t we go now? Can’t you work something out?

- That’s what I’m trying to ask her! I reply.

- I said no. It’s your punishment. Now move your chair over here. You’re supposed to be helping me, remember?

She sits behind her desk with a determined look. I glance at Ingrid, who seems exasperated by her friend’s behavior. Without much enthusiasm, I follow the order and sit next to her. Alexia also sits next to Ingrid to work better. I retrieve the previous sheet and make myself comfortable, crossing my legs.

- First to finish wins? Ingrid challenges us. We’ve been waiting for you for this.

- Fine by me,  Lucy surprises me by agreeing. You’d better be efficient. I hate losing.

I chuckle and nod.  Lucy gives the signal to start our silly contest. I quickly give her the first eight-digit code to avoid getting scolded. We keep going like this for a good half hour until the bell rings in the hallway.

- Already? Ingrid exclaims. Do you have one or two hours of detention?

- Two, I respond instinctively at the same time as Lucy.

 Lucy gives me a dark look.

- What? It was my turn to answer.

- Hmm.

I sense amusement from Ingrid. It’s true, it’s pretty funny to see us connecting this way. Alexia is more discreet next to her, even though she’s probably thinking the same thing as us.

"Alright, give me the next one?" she reminds me.

Friday, January 15; 12:40 PM - Manchester Airport.

Ten minutes have passed since Lucy and I arrived at the airport. The morning had been tense since my dismissal, but  Lucy calmed down after we crushed the other team just before lunch. After that, we separated to eat, then I met her on the same side street as last time when it was time to leave. Now, I’m eagerly waiting for Mapi to arrive, and I think I’ve mentioned that enough already. I’m starting to get fed up with the tension between Lucy and me. It feels like it’s only getting worse. She’s been ignoring me since we got here, tapping away on her phone doing who knows what. I sigh in frustration. This situation is ridiculous. I was about to speak when she finally looks at me, but then she steps back, looking behind me. The next moment, something literally jumps on me. Lucy catches me to stop me from falling. I’m attacked by a wave of kisses, causing Lucy to step back.

"Mapi, cut it out," I laugh.

"I missed you so much! Oh my God, I thought I’d never land! Seriously, how do you manage to sleep through every flight?"

I laugh, recognizing my best friend and her way of complaining without mincing words. I turn around when she finally climbs off my back.

"Good to see you, Commander! Maybe not as much as my Ona, but still!"

"Good to see you too, Mapi."

Mapi sticks close to me until we retrieve her suitcase. Since I no longer have a phone to communicate, she catches me up on her crappy week in detail without paying any attention to Lucy beside us. She missed an important exam that she hopes to retake. She also tells me she ran into her ex with Feli. Judging by Lucy’s reaction to this news, I’m not holding my breath for her to change her mind about returning to Barcelona. She eventually talks about her casual flings, which I could have done without hearing next to my supervisor. I feel extremely embarrassed, unlike Mapi, who seems totally at ease. I get a brief break when she grabs her suitcase from the conveyor belt.

"Does she always talk this much?"  Lucy asks.

"It’s just the beginning..."

"Great. I thought no one could be worse than you."

"Hey!" I lightly punch her. "I’m not that bad! And I did warn you that you were taking a risk by picking her up."

She pinches my cheek when I pout. I give a victorious smile when she apologizes, saying she was joking. She quickly withdraws her hand when Mapi comes back. She resumes her monologue all the way to the parking lot.

"Wow, nice ride! An Audi? You didn’t mention that, Ona! Can I sit in the front?"

"No!"  Lucy and I reply in unison.

"Whoa, calm down, you two," she chuckles.

 Lucy avoids us by getting into her car. I help Mapi put her suitcase in the trunk before we get in too.  Lucy hasn’t let me drive her car since last week, but I was glad she let me do it at least once. The feeling of driving her car was magical, and I understand why when it purrs at startup.

"By the way, Ona?" Mapi asks.

"Can’t you just shut up for, like, five minutes?"  Lucy growls.

"Is she always this grumpy?"

I laugh as my best friend points at  Lucy with an indifferent look.  Lucy’s going to explode any second if she keeps pushing her buttons like this.

"If you don’t stop soon, I’ll leave you on the side of the road!"

This scene is truly hilarious. Mapi eventually cooperates by sinking into her seat and sulking. Now she knows what it’s like to be put in her place by  Lucy Bronze.

"What was your question?" I finally ask.

"Um, I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk..." she pouts.

"Don’t be upset. She was joking. Right, Lucia?"

"Mm," she responds.

"So?" I press.

"Did you sort out your phone problem? You said you would this week."

I sigh and shake my head, thinking about that issue.

"I called my mom. She gave me a hard time when I explained that mine was broken. We argued until she finally agreed to let me cancel the line and get a new one."

"And?"

"Well, I eventually got the green light."

"So it’s good? You can get a new phone?"

"Normally, yes."

"Then why don’t you already have one?"

"Because Lucy will take me when she feels like it."

I see Mapi flinch in her seat through the rearview mirror. I glance at  Lucy, who sighs heavily. I place my hand on her shoulder to try to calm her down. I think Mapi’s presence is irritating her. She was happy to host us last week, though. Maybe I’m wrong. Her mood has worsened since my dismissal. I feel responsible. We had started the day off well. I smile as I realize that my touch has an effect, against all expectations.

"Go ahead, Mapi, spit it out,"  Lucy encourages.

"Well... We could go get one now, right? But, you know, it’s up to you! You’re the driver, after all..."

"Alright, let’s go. I’ll have the opportunity to leave you there if you keep annoying me."

I laugh, removing my hand from Lucy. She changes direction towards a street I recognize. She’s actually heading downtown.

"Take out my phone and send a message to Ingrid asking her to meet us," she orders.

I don’t think twice and do what she asks. My best friend is here, so she can ask hers to join us too. Ten minutes later, we’re in the underground parking of the shopping mall. I’ve visited a lot of places, but I’ve never been here. We follow Lucy, who heads for the stairs. She’s tapping away on her phone, as if we’re not even there. We arrive in the middle of a dozen brand-name stores. I spin around to see if I spot any stores I might like. It only lasts a second, but when I stop, I don’t see anyone beside me anymore. I move forward a bit, hoping to spot  Lucy, Mapi, or maybe even Ingrid, but I don’t recognize any faces. There’s no one. I’m alone, and I start to panic like a little girl who’s lost her mother in the supermarket. I look around and even search my pockets, but I quickly remember that I haven’t had a phone for weeks. I stop when I start to feel overwhelmed. I’m beginning to think I’ll never find them with all these people around. I jump when a strong hand suddenly presses on my shoulder. I was ready to fight back, but I relax when I come face to face with  Lucy.

"Oh, thank God..."

Without thinking, I hug her. She chuckles softly, accepting the embrace. She doesn’t seem to notice my panicked state. Yet, I can feel my heart racing against her warm body. I pull away from her so she doesn’t realize how exaggerated my reaction was.

"Sorry, I... I didn’t see you leave, and I thought I’d never find you again."

"Calm down," she smiles. "I’m here now. Give me your hand so I don’t lose you again. Your wonderful best friend and Ingrid are waiting for us."

She knows exactly how to calm me down. I smile and happily take the hand she offers. She pulls me along in a direction I definitely wouldn’t have taken if I had gone looking for them.

" Lucy?" I call out to her.

« Mm?"

- "I'm sorry for ruining your mood... It's my fault, and I hate seeing you like this."

I bite my lip when our eyes meet. She smiles tenderly.

- "It's not your fault."

- "But—"

- "I promise, Ona," she interrupts, tightening her grip on my hand. "If you don't want things to get worse, don't stray from me again."

I smile at her, and she finally lets go of my hand when we reach Mapi and Ingrid, who are deep in debate. It almost seems like they've known each other for ages, even though they've only met twice.

- "Oh, there you are at last!" Mapi exclaims when she sees us. "Can we go now?"

- "Of course. Try not to get lost again."

Ingrid and Mapi walk ahead of us as if we weren't there. Well, they do glance back at us occasionally.  Lucy tells me that the mobile store is on the next floor when I ask her. We take the escalator to get there.  Lucy takes my hand again as I start to lag behind them. The other two girls decide to leave us to check out the store across from the mobile shop when we arrive. At least we'll have a little peace, and I'll have time to choose a phone without any pressure.

- "Hello," a salesman approaches us right away with a predatory smile. "Can I help you?"

- "We're fine, thanks,"  Lucy replies coldly. "We're just browsing for now."

I give the salesman an apologetic smile, realizing that he's unwittingly sparked my boss's ire. I hurry to join her when she calls me over a bit further away. I apologize and quickly catch up to her.

- "I guess you want an iPhone? Can you even afford it?"

- "Yes, yes! My mom sent me some money."

- "Do you want to look at anything else?"

- "Are you kidding?" I giggled. "I only have Apple products; I'm not going to look at Samsung!"

- "As you wish," she smiles. "So, which model? You had a 13, right?"

- "Yeah," I sighed. "Actually, I'm torn. I could get the latest model, but I think it's too expensive. What do you think?"

- "What I think? It's not up to me to decide."

- "I'm just asking for your opinion..."

- "There's not much difference between the latest models. It's up to you to decide what you want."

- "Do you need advice?"

 Lucy lets out a grumpy sigh towards the salesman who returns. I stifle a laugh and place my hand on her arm, which is holding one of the displayed phones.

- "We'll come to you when I've made my choice," I simply say.

He nods. I think he got the message now. I smile, seeing  Lucy glaring at him as he walks away. I call her to get her attention. She raises an eyebrow, noticing my amused expression.

- "You think this is funny?"

- "He's not doing anything wrong; he's just doing his job."

- "Yeah, well, if his job is to check out all the pretty girl in this store, I hope he gets a bonus considering how often he stares at you."

I look at her, stunned by that comment I didn't expect at all. A burst of laughter escapes me, causing her to frown. It's one of the last things I expected to hear from her. I wipe away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

- "Are you done?" she snaps coldly.

- "Sorry, Luce, but why are you reacting like this? Who cares? I won't ever see this guy again anyway."

- "Yeah. Well, are you done so we can leave? The last thing we need is for the others to show up, and that would be the icing on the cake."

- "Hey, are you done being like this? As long as those two are together, they leave us alone. It's pretty nice, isn't it?"

- "Which one are you choosing?"

I sighed, realizing that my words wouldn't change her mood. I hope it'll fade soon because I won't be able to put up with it for long. I give up and change the subject, pointing to a phone in front of us, the iPhone 15.

- "That one, then?"

- "Yeah."

- "You know it's really expensive?"

- "Let's just say my mom transferred me a generous amount," I giggled. "Might as well enjoy it, right?"

- "You could use it for something else."

I stare at the new iPhone for a moment. According to people, it's the phone to have. I'm so tempted, but  Lucy's eyes are much more compelling. I let out a defeated sigh.

- "Alright, alright, I’ll go for the other one then."

I settle for the iPhone 14 that was right next to it.  Lucy nods, as if she approves of the obvious choice.

- "So, black or white, Princess?"

- "White," I finally said without hesitation, crossing my arms.

- "Okay," she laughs. "Let's find a saleswoman."

- "The salesman was fine by me," I teased. "Especially since I told him we'd go back to him."

- "You really want to irritate me to the end?"

We lock eyes for a moment until I look away to find the salesman in the store. I’m not trying to annoy her, but I don’t want to give her the final say on everything either. I smile when I finally see him and waste no time going over to him.

- "Ona," she

 growls behind me.

- "Have you made your choice?" he asks warmly when I reach him.

- "Yes, I have. Can you take care of it?"

- "I'm not sure your girlfriend feels the same way..."

- "Oh, she’s not—"

- "If it were up to me, I would have gone to your colleague already," my boss retorts. "Just do your job."

- "R-right... If you would follow me..."

The poor salesman is almost running out of fear as he heads to his desk with a computer. I wait a moment before following him to turn back to  Lucy.

- "Are you serious? Why did you let him think we were together?!" I giggled.

8

"I’m saving you from his flirting tactics."

"Oh yeah? Who says I didn’t want to be flirted with?"

"Doesn’t matter," she rolls her eyes. "Come on, he’s waiting for us."

I smile unconsciously as I walk past her. This situation is actually quite funny. The poor salesperson doesn’t dare look at us when we sit on the stools in front of his desk. He prefers to focus on his screen to do his job. I suppress a smile when  Lucy continues her act by placing her hand on my knee. I have no idea what’s gotten into her, but I don’t mind it.

"So... uh, what would you like to do?" he finally looks at me.

"Open a new line."

"Alright... Are you already a customer with us?"

"Yes."

"She’d like a new no-contract plan,"  Lucy intervenes. "That’s what you wanted, right?" she asks me for confirmation.

I nod with a sly smile. The guy taps on the keyboard as I give him my line number. He accesses all the information my mom provided when setting it up. Fortunately, she had the sense to put it in my name, or else I wouldn’t have been able to change anything. He quickly switches the line when I tell him the plan I want with a new number.

"Uh... what model do you want?"

"iPhone 14 in white," I replied.

"Are you sure you don’t want to go for black, being undecided that you are?"  Lucy asks with an amused smile.

"Stop it," I giggle. "You’re really silly."

"Yet, I’m the one on top," she murmurs.

Her words were a whisper, but loud enough for the salesperson to hear. I can’t hide my surprise when I catch her smirking. I can’t believe she dared to say that! My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I can’t think of anything to say in response. She’s taking this role-play way too far. The salesperson is so uncomfortable that he gets up, saying he’s going to get my phone from the stockroom.

"What were you thinking?" I spitied as soon as he left.

"Oh, it was just a joke. I’m not sure which of you was more uncomfortable," she teases.

"It wasn’t funny at all, you idiot!"

I can’t hold back my smile as she laughs even more. Goodness, I don’t understand what’s gotten into her all of a sudden. Just a few minutes ago, she was completely grumpy.

"We should play this game more often."

I turn my head to hide my embarrassment. I didn’t know she could be so teasing. I push her hand away when she tries to slide it up my thigh to provoke a reaction. I glare at her, but she’s not intimidated in the slightest. She just chuckles and places her hand back on my knee when the salesperson returns. He sets the box with my new phone on the counter after scanning the barcode.

"Alright. Now we just need to set it up. We can do it together if you’d like."

"Yes, please."

He removes the plastic wrapping and pushes the box toward me.

"Do you know how to do it yourself?"

"Of course."

"I’ll let you handle it then. Is there anything else you need?"

"A screen protector,"  Lucy replies.

I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea considering how my last phone ended up. I nod, and he gets up again. Meanwhile, I take my new phone out of the box and insert my new SIM card under  Lucy’s watchful eye.

"This game is ridiculous," I say.

"I thought I was doing you a favor," she says, removing her hand.

"A little, yeah. But we both know he wouldn’t have tried anything more."

"That’s true. I don’t know what made me react that way, but it annoyed me to see him looking at you like prey."

A foolish smile spreads across my lips. I appreciate that she doesn’t let people disrespect me. I try to convince myself that there’s no hidden motive behind it. That’s probably the case anyway. I turn on my phone and start setting it up, syncing it with my account. I feel relieved when I see my home screen, as if I never broke my previous phone. I’m thrilled to find all my data intact.

"Did you manage?" the salesperson asks upon his return.

"Yes, everything’s working," I reply with a smile.

"Great, here’s the receipt," he hands me a sheet of paper. "You’ll find a one-year warranty, your new phone number, and of course, the price. Are you paying by card?"

"Yes," I confirm.

He hands me the machine once he’s inserted my card. I enter my code before handing it back.  Lucy takes the bag where the salesperson has put the empty phone box and the receipt. I thank the salesperson as he returns my card.

"Have a good day," he wishes us.

"Thank you, you too."

I put my phone in my pocket before anything can happen to it, and we head out to meet Mapi and Ingrid. It wasn’t difficult to find them. They were waiting on a bench across from the store. The first thing Mapi asks me for is my new number. I choose the simplest way: sending her a message. I do the same with  Lucy and end up getting Ingrid’s number, which she readily gives me. “Just in case,” she says. I’m not sure I’ll use it, but at least I’ll know who to contact if I can’t reach  Lucy one day.

"So, movie night at my place tonight?"  Lucy suggests.

"Really?" Mapi enthuses. "Like, all four of us?"

"I’d love to leave you behind, but Ona wouldn’t let me."

We all laugh except for Mapi. The girls get up, and we head back down to the parking lot. Mapi immediately agrees to Ingrid’s offer to ride with her. I stay with  Lucy, who seems pleased to get rid of my best friend. I know she likes her and that it’s just her bad mood talking, so I’m not worried about the rest of our weekend. I’m beaming when she hands me the car keys.

"You’re letting me drive?!"

"Mm-hmm."

"But I don’t know the way to your place..."

"I’ll guide you."

I don’t ask her a third time and take her keys. She makes sure I’m settled in and have my license with me before letting me go. I start the car, unable to hide my smile as I think about the evening ahead.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I know that you don't take request right now but I just had to submit this one before I forget it lol. I'm hoping that you'll write it when your requests are open again?

So anyway, reader is ridoc's twin/sister (he's hilarious) and she walks in on someone trying to kill bodhi so she helps bodhi fight him and later takes care of his injury and he falls for her. The following days someone keeps leaving little gifts for her (protective ridoc lol) and reader approaches bodhi to ask what he's doing and he confesses that he likes her

Not exactly like the request but close by and way longer than I thought it would be. So many of you bad missed Bodhi so here we are.

Angel eyes

It truly was luck. Luck and nothing more. You had separated from the girls after your nightly walk. A way you bunch decompressed after a long day of training. It felt better like that. Easier. With no one able to walk in on you chatting. You had stayed out longer after swearing to be careful, simply because the night was warm and you enjoyed nothing more than being able to watch the stars. They reminded you of home. All the people you had left behind.

You had rounded the staircase not longer than an hour later when you heard muffled sounds. Not a lot of cadets followed the curfew hours so at first you brushed it off to someone sneaking around the same way you were. Just the higher you climbed the more it didn’t sound like innocent chatter. No. It sounded as if someone was struggling. The scraping against the rock walls. The pained growls. You pulled the blade from your boot, one that your brother had kindly gifted you. Testing the weight of it in your palm before letting your senses guide you to the noise. It probably wasn’t all that smart to approach something like that alone but something from deep within urged you to.

And there there they were. Two males held Bodhi’s hands while the third one sent punches into his stomach. The sight made you stumble for a moment. Bodhi was a great fighter. You had the honor of being assigned him as a partner on the mats. This felt wrong. They have had to drug him. Used something to weaken his link with Cuir. Blood that soaked the gag now had been the thing that sent you into action.

Using the shadows to your advantage. You crept closer. Sending your brother’s dagger flying. Not stopping to look if it landed the target because you knew that it did. And there was no time to admire your handy work. The less time they had to realize that they weren’t alone anymore the better. Right as the dagger met the guy who’s been punching Bodhi neck, your hands were already around the second male's neck twisting it with a painful crack.

It’s the third guy who instantly backs away from Bodhi, sending his body crumpling to the ground. He’s the one to meet your black eyes. You can feel that he wants to run. That he’s panicking. That he’s petrified because he can’t move. Your power is too deep in his system. “Lucky for you, I need someone to speak about this to”, you step closer to him, “And you will voluntarily do it, won’t you?”, he barely nods, shallow breaths barely hitting his lungs. You smile up at him watching as he tries to do the same but your power seizes his muscles. Making him hit the floor too as he wriggles in soundless spasms.

You turn back to Bodhi, who had crawled to rest against the wall. Hand draped over his middle. You cross the distance in a couple of smooth strides, dropping to your knees. Bodhi instantly flinched trying to pull back. You two weren’t necessarily strangers but you weren’t friends. He was in the ranks up above the group of people you hang out with. But you saw him around, trained at times.

“Let me help”, you muttered, “Can I pull your shirt up?” You caught his gaze, right as he pulled the blood rag from his mouth. His nod was subtle. Easy to miss but you caught it nodding alongside him. Gently pull up the material.

“Shit”, you hissed. The skin was already turned black and blue. They sure didn’t hold back, “You need to… We need to get you to the healers”. A slight panic flickered in your chest. His friends were on patrol tonight too. Meaning you quite literally had no help to call out to. But Bodhi didn’t even nod as he watched you.

“Bodhi, you need to show me that you can hear me, okay?”, you muttered, cupping his cheek with your palm. “I will get you some help”, you nodded at him, looking into the eyes of someone who seemed to look past you now. Cursing beneath your breath you turned around looking at the corridors that stretched out, hoping to find any sort of movement. “Pretty”, the sound was groggy and tired. You halted. “So… pretty”, he breathed out. “What?”, you muttered, your eyes catching his one last time before his body slumped down.

Bodhi felt like his whole body was on fire. At times he was sure that he had died and it was the flames of the underworld liking at his skin. But in flashes of consciousness, there were voices. Muffed ones and unrecognizable. But most importantly there was a girl. One that constantly leaned over him, brushing at his hair. Her cold fingers felt heavenly against Bodhi’s burning skin. And those eyes. Those gorgeous eyes looked down at him. So pretty. So unbelievably pretty.

Quite frankly Bodhi was convinced that whoever his angel was he had dreamed. Hallucinated. Until he had finally been able to get to the main floors. Both Xaden and Garrick were on either side of him. Even if they said that they weren’t worried they had been mother hens to him ever since.

But only a couple of steps in Bodhi halted. A full-body shiver ran through him. It felt like a fever dream all over again. “What is it?”, Garrick gripped Bodhi’s upper arm but he didn’t know. He couldn’t seem to get his words out. “I told you that you should have still stayed in bed, Bodhi, damn”, Xaden stepped in front of his cousin. Bodhi shook his head, pulling at Xaden’s shoulder, “Her”, he breathed.

Both males turned to where Bodhi was pointing, before sharing a look. They had interrogated the one suspect who had been neatly delivered all tied up. But no one knew who had done the handy job because Bodhi’s stories had been well… rather delirious. “What about her?”, Garrick asked, look at the way Bodhi glanced at you as if you had carried the moon and sun. “That’s Ridoc’s sister, Bodhi. Violet’s friend”, Xaden muttered.

Bodhi pulled at their grip, rushing through the crowd. He knew he had seen you before but this. You looked like an angel in his head and now you were here. “You”, he breathed, making you turn your head at the new voice. “Durran, good to see you on your feet”, you shot him a smile. You didn’t want to make a big fuss. No one knew what had happened that night and you preferred it that way. “You were there. I saw you”, he muttered. Your brother raised his eyebrow shooting you a strange look. So much for a secret.

“Come”, you pulled at his hand, wanting to get away from the crowd of people. “Look, I did what I had to”, you breathed as you two rounded the corner of a more secluded area, “If your friend needs help with solving…” but you didn’t get to finish the sentence as two strong arms warped around your shoulder. Your body stiffened for a second. He was hugging you… You slowly raised your arms as well, careful to not hurt him. The bruises on his body still vivid in your head.

“Thank you”, Bodhi breathed, “I thought I had imagined you”. You chuckled, “Most would say that’s quite a nightmare”. Budhi shook his head as he slowly pulled away, “I thought quite the opposite”, he admitted, swallowing thickly, “I thought you were an angel. Your eyes…”, he muttered moving to cup your cheek. You felt your face burning crimson, fighting the urge to look down. “So pretty”, he breathed out.

“Is that what you were referring to back in the corridor when I…”, you frowned. Surely, not. He wouldn’t have noticed that. “Yeah…”, Bodhi breathed, his face growing red as he pulled back, clearing his throat, “Sorry, that’s stupid”. But you caught his wrist, “No, it’s sweet. No had ever thought that they were… well… pretty”. Your eyes locked and for a moment you two just stood in silence. “Can we meet up sometime?”, Bodhi breathed after a moment. You chuckled, “Sure, if you’re not scared that my brother will kill you with a fork”, you nodded towards the table where Ridoc had unfortunately seen you two talk. So much for a secluded spot. Bodhi huffed, “I think, I can handle a fork”.

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

I don’t think you guys understand how much I love this song. So here’s some fluff, which you guys wanted most in that little poll.

Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

warnings: brief mentions of Luke's quest ptsd, nightmares, mentions of death by monsters.

summary: you and luke have known how nice it was to have a friend for years. And then it becomes something more.

Based on 'It's Nice to Have a Friend' by Taylor Swift.

winter of meeting (fourteen years old)

It was the first time you’d ever seen snow.

As the final conch horn echoed throughout camp and activities ceased, you’d exchanged the friendship bracelet you’d been making with Luke, giggling at the messy pattern he’d made.

You’d only known each other for a little while, but already you could tell that arts and crafts were not his strong points.

“Whatever,” he was grumbling, although he was also grinning as the two of you ambled out of the craft cabin. “Woah.”

You felt it then, the cold flakes fluttering on your skin, causing hairs to raise all over you. The pair of you stood, shivering and in awe as you faced towards Olympus, watching as the white flurries swirled down through the grey sky.

“Let’s go,” he urged you, throwing a jacket on, “this barely ever happens they say. We’ve gotta savour it while we can.”

“I-I haven’t got a coat with me,” you pointed out awkwardly, cursing yourself for not noticing the cold temperatures beforehand.

“Oh,” and he immediately ripped his coat off and placed it on your shoulders before you could protest. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your cabin for your coat and then we can have some fun.”

Slipping and sliding through the snow you went, reaching your cabin in no time. Already the snow had grown thick, and you took advantage of this, making wonky snow angels and pelting snow balls at each other. This fun and mania continued until others joined and it became so violent and competitive, Chiron had to intervene.

To appease everyone, however, he promised a night of camping on the beach in tents. You remembered how you’d stayed up so late that night, talking and talking and talking. You never got sick of it, and in the close and fun atmosphere, it was so nice to have a friend.

summer he came back (seventeen years old)

The pink sky was so spacious and beautiful from up here. It was many a night you’d ascended up onto the Hermes cabin roof, but you didn’t think it had ever been so scenic.

You hoped your dad was giving a fantastic sky show to Luke after all the shit he’d been through.

“You guys have gotta get dow-“

“We’re literally counsellors too! Go away!” You screamed at the pesky Demeter counsellor, glaring at him until he left you in peace. Couldn’t he take a hint? Couldn’t you guys be left in peace for a fraction of a second?! It wasn’t like you guys had a curfew anyway.

To break the tense silence, you decided to play twenty questions. It was a tradition of yours, and you couldn’t exactly remember when you first played it, just that it was a game you played often. You hoped it would cheer Luke up from the miserable place he had been since he returned to camp from his quest.

“What was…. The goofiest thing you saw on your quest?” You asked, smiling.

He grinned weakly, seeming to rack his brain as he gazed at the sunset. “Um, oh! Probably this guy we saw on the bus. He had these maroon gloves, and uh, a completely orange jumpsuit thing and all he did the whole trip was eat celery.”

“What? No way.” You said in disbelief, shaking your head.

“No, he was insane, just like crunching away at these sticks of celery for about an hour, I swear.”

You continued like this for a while, asking silly questions and snickering until your stomachs ached. But the deeper questions came too.

“Do you still have nightmares?” You were scared to ask this question, scared that it overstepped. Sure, you were best friends and you’d talked about these deep, close and personal things many times before, but Luke had changed when he came back. He was more sensitive, more traumatised. He hadn’t cracked with you, but he had with Chris, and that was still saying something. You didn’t want to fracture the shaky relationship you’d fought to rebuild.

“Yeah,” he replied, and you drew closer as he let out a shaky exhale, “they keep coming, and I just can’t get away from them.”

“What’s in them?”

“It starts off pretty normal. I’m usually with you somewhere and we’re doing something for camp. And then-then this gap opens beneath your feet- and you fall, and, and you’re screaming the whole way down. And then this evil, dark voice comes out and sometimes I can hear it, but usually it just mutters all these weird phrases I can’t understand.”

“What does it tell you when you can hear?” You were both curious and concerned.

“It’s weird. That if I follow it, it can show me a world where no one I care about gets hurt, and I can protect them all. Sometimes, I get these glimpses of this warm, golden place and everyone’s happy and safe. But then I’m just scared again.”

There was a brief silence, allowing both of you to mull over the words just spoken.

“My go,” and his eyes were soft when he faced you, “Apollo been answering your prayers?”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears in your eyes at the thought. Of course he knew. He was Luke Castellan.

“I thought so. You deserve so much better than him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a god, right?” You said weakly, brushing tears, “bad parenting is part of their jam.”

You fought the tears that continued to build, thinking of a way to change the subject. “This questioning is getting so depressing, geez.”

“Well, it’s your go. You lighten the mood.” He offered, leaning back on his elbows.

“Ok. I can’t think of anymore! Uhh, on a scale of 1 to 10 how important am I to you?” You joked, covering your mouth as you chuckled quietly.

He wasn’t laughing back though. In fact, his face was earnest.

“10.” He replied softly, and his hand reached forward and brushed yours.

And you treasured that evening in your memory. It was so nice to have a friend.

spring of new beginnings (twenty five years old)

The clanging of bells signified both your successes as you’d reached the adult years of life. Even at 25, you and Luke were lucky to be alive.

You both didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Laughter erupted from you, as he scooped you into his arms, carrying you away from Big House and the cacophony of ricocheting metal courtesy of the Hephaestus and Hecate cabins, and the grass strewn with snow flake like rice grains.

You’d had the celebration at camp, but you were planning to drive back to your home - a new apartment in New York.

And here you were. Humming along to the high notes of a nostalgic song on your playlist, waiting for Luke to come back with his take out, and drumming your fingers on your cream skirt. Despite the fact that he’d stuffed his face with entrees that Demeter kids had lovingly and tediously created back at camp, he was still starving by the time you’d spent a while on the road. Truth be told, you were too, but given the fact you were still in your wedding dress, you didn’t want to risk any stains.

The loud and cheery tune of your ringtone distracted you from your thoughts, and after a bit of scrambling, you picked up, noticing it was Luke.

“Luke, babe, I swear I gave you the credit card, it isn’t in here.”

“Uh, ouch, no there’s no problem with that,” he explained, chuckling. “That creamy sauce is still your favourite, right? With wings?”

“Yeah?” you said, confused. “But I’m not hungry remember? Just buy food for yourself, and get outta there before we hit peak hour traffic.”

“Oh yeah, I just noticed it’s a few cents cheaper than normal sauce.” You could hear him munching softly now, so you assumed he was on his way out. Thank the gods.

“Ok?? And you seriously called me for that?” You asked, more amused now, but still very confused.

“Ooh, you’re right, I better watch my step, any more communication and my wife will divorce me.” He teased.

You sputtered a bit at wife, trying not to choke. You still weren’t used to it. You didn’t think you ever would be.

“I know you’re blushing in there.” He called over the phone, except now you could see him exiting the store, boxes piled in his arms.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, hanging up and trying to calm your burning cheeks.

When he entered the car, the sucker still had that grin on his face as he passed you a box of wings and a little tub of your favourite sauce.

“Huh?” You asked him, a smile spreading.

“Y/n, I think even Mr D. has enough intuition skills to know you were craving some wings. Let’s eat.”

And you beamed at him, because of course your Luke knew when you desperately wanted food and would go and procure it for you.

The car trip was a lot shorter when the both of you were licking your fingers and passionately singing your favourite songs off-key. It seemed only moments had passed before you were turning into the parking lot underneath your apartment, stacking any box you could carry in your arms, and sandwiching bags between each limb.

Thankfully, the elevator wasn’t broken, and you were able to take that up to the three floors it took to reach your apartment. Outside the door was your landlord, a steaming coffee mug in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

You bit your lip anxiously as he scanned his eyes over you, his lips twisting in amusement at your dress.

“Nice outfit,” he sniped, taking a sip of the hot black liquid.

“I certainly thought so.” Luke chimed in, taking the keys from the man and unlocking the door. He led you in by the shoulder. “She looks beautiful, just like always.”

And then the door was shut, and you were bent over giggling quietly, casting grateful looks at him while Luke side-eyed the door.

You’d barely been a moment in your new place, but it already felt like home with him. As you personalised the place further and more and more of your belongings from camp hung on the walls, lay on the floor and were tucked into corners, a sense of belonging crept into your heart. You loved this place. You loved Luke.

Walking swiftly into the bedroom, you collapsed onto the mattress he was setting up, tugging him down with you.

He groaned happily, as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“Let’s just lie here for a while and not do anymore unpacking,” you whispered to him breathily, as you settled into his side.

“Mmmm, not a while. How about the whole weekend?” He mumbled, as his arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer.

And in the warmth of that bed it was the same comfortable feeling you’d felt with him all those times before.

It was nice to have a friend lover.

[sequinsmile-x]

Hi I love all your hotchniss parents fics so much they’re such a comfort!! If requests are open, can I ask for a little hurt/comfort where hotchniss’s teenage daughter is sleeping in their bed again at night? For whatever reason you’re comfortable with writing and it reminds them of when she was little and would sleep in their bed🥺 just can’t get the image out of my head and i know you would do it justice if you want to <3

of course bestie <3 I love writing them with teenage/older kids. It has a special place in my heart.

I really hope this was what you were looking for and that you enjoy it <3

-x-

Reminiscence

Emily and Aaron's teenage daughter has her heart broken.

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 4k (i got a little carried away!)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

Emily smiles as she looks at her husband and takes the glass of wine he holds out for her, “Thanks, honey.”

Aaron carefully observes his wife as she checks her watch, her cheeks puffed out as she blows out a breath. He presses a kiss to her forehead as he sits next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder. 

“She’s fine, Em.” 

She grunts, irritation that only lasts a second licking at her insides at how well he knows her, “I know that,” she replies, huffing as she rests her head on his shoulder, “It’s just getting close to curfew.” 

Since the moment Hazel was born, everyone had always told Emily how much like her the little girl was. At first, it was the way she looked. How her daughter had her nose, and her dark eyes and her smile. As Hazel’s personality developed the comments became even more common, and Emily couldn’t deny how much of herself she recognised in her little girl, how she had so many of the attributes she’d always been told were bad in her but that seemed beautiful in her stubborn, adventurous, wilful daughter. 

As soon as Hazel became a teenager, however, Emily started to worry. She remembered all too well what she’d been like. All the secrets she’d hidden from her mother, and it made her long for the days when her daughter was a tiny thing that would crawl into her and Aaron’s bed when she’d had a bad dream.

“She’s sensible,” Aaron says, kissing her temple, pressing his smile against the edge of her grey hair, as he takes the glass of wine out of her hand and sets it down. “You know that.” 

She hums as she checks her watch again, “The half of her that is you is.” 

She worried less about Jack and Issac. Not because they were boys, but because they were both mini versions of her husband. Jack was the most sensible college student she’d ever met, and Issac was so serious his teacher had mentioned it at his most recent parent-teacher conference, a wry smile on her face as she told them she’d never met an 11-year-old quite as earnest as him. He was up in his bedroom playing video games and she knew that she wouldn’t have to remind him of his bedtime, that he’d quietly put the game away when he’d been told to.

Issac had Aaron’s stern glare perfected since the day he was born, quiet and furious to be born as he was placed on Emily’s chest for the first time, the complete opposite to Hazel’s loud and dramatic entrance to the world four years previously. 

Aaron laughs and hooks his finger under her chin to make her look at him, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

Warmth spreads through her chest, the familiar love she’d had for him for almost two decades as overwhelming as it always had been as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the wine they were sharing passing from her lips to his. 

“I love you.”

He smiles as her breath skips across his face as she speaks and he kisses her again before he replies, “I love you too.” 

She smiles as she hooks her hand around the back of his head, her fingers pushing through his hair as she deepens the kiss, taking advantage of the rare opportunity of some alone time with her husband. She starts to lose herself in him and is about to shift closer to him, about to slip into his lap, when she hears thundering footsteps on the porch steps followed by the front door flying open. She slips out of Aaron’s embrace when she hears a gasping sob in the foyer and she walks out into the hallway. She frowns as Hazel comes into view, her face bright red and her eyes swollen as she sobs again, her face crumbling as she steps towards Emily. 

“Hazel?”

“Mommy.” 

The gasp of the name Hazel hadn’t called her in years pushes Emily forward, her arms reaching out as she gathers her daughter against her chest, the fierceness of the 15-year-old girl's hold on her only making her worry more. 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks, exchanging a look with Aaron as he steps out of the living room too, his worry just as obvious as hers as he steps towards them. She cups the back of Hazel’s head and encourages her to look at her. She checks for any obvious injury, looking her up and down, “Are you hurt? What’s happened?” 

Hazel’s lower lip trembles as she sucks in a breath, “Brock dumped me.” 

She sinks back against Emily, her sob shuddering from her chest into her mother’s. Emily wraps her arms around her and rubs her hand up and down her back, “Oh, baby I’m sorry.”

Aaron is about to step towards them, ready to pull them both into his arms, his wife’s distress at seeing their daughter so upset obvious despite the facade she was trying to hide it behind, but he spots his youngest son standing at the top of the stairs, his concern for his sister clear. Aaron looks at Emily and nods his head towards Issac and she nods in response, a silent agreement that he’d go and look after their youngest whilst she spoke to Hazel passing between them. He turns and heads up the stairs, his arm around Issac’s shoulders as he leads him back to his room. 

“Come on buddy,” he says, smiling softly at him, “Why don’t you show me that level on your game that you were telling me about?” 

Emily half pays attention as Issac frowns and eventually agrees with Aaron and lets himself be led upstairs. She focuses on Hazel, on the way she’s crying against her, the material of her shirt sticking to her skin, and her attempt to soothe her. She shushes her gently like she hadn’t in years and guides her towards the living room, barely getting a second to sit down herself before Hazel is pressed up against her again, her damp face against her neck.

“Do you want to tell me what happened with Brock?” She asks, hating how her daughter tenses against her, how her grip on her shirt tightens. 

Hazel and Brock had been dating for a few months. It had been long enough that he’d been to the house a few times, he’d sat at the dining table with them and been polite whilst they ate dinner and she and Aaron were sworn to ‘behave’ by their daughter. Hazel was infatuated with him. The kind of young love Emily knew almost always ended in heartbreak, but she’d hoped that Hazel would be spared this. 

Hazel sniffs as she pulls back, avoiding Emily’s eye contact as she looks down at her lap, “I don’t want you to be mad.”

“Sweet girl,” Emily says softly, cupping her chin and making her look up, “I won’t be mad. You can tell me anything you know that.” 

Hazel nods and her lower lip trembles again, her emotions still rumbling in her chest and forcing their way out. 

“We were going to…” she clears her throat and closes her eyes, “We were going to have sex,” she says, her voice low, embarrassment colouring every word. Emily is grateful for years of political training, for the fact she can school her features and not show her shock to the teenager sitting in front of her, forcing herself to breathe normally even though it feels like she’s been sucker-punched, “And I thought I was ready but…I didn’t want to. I changed my mind.” 

Emily had always been very open with her children when it came to sex. She didn’t want them to make the choices she had, didn’t want them to look for love and acceptance in all the wrong places and then be left to make the decisions she’d had to when she was young. She and Aaron had disagreed over it occasionally, the thought of his kids having sex as teenagers almost too much for him to bear, but she’d always been more realistic with it - aware they were going to do it anyway. Despite that, this was still hard to take. Hazel was the same age she had been in Rome, and, more than anything, it highlighted just how young she’d been then herself. 

She clears her throat, grateful when her voice doesn’t shake as she asks the first question that comes to mind, “Did he hurt you?” She asks tucking some of Hazel’s hair behind her ear. The teenager looks up at her questioningly, her head tilted in a way that made her seem even younger, “He didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do?” 

Hazel’s eyes go wide as Emily’s question registers and she shakes her head, allowing a small sense of relief to wash over her mother, “No. He didn’t,” she says, more tears falling past her lash line as she laughs bitterly, “He called me a tease and then broke up with me,” she chokes on a sound between a laugh and a sob, “He told me if I wouldn’t sleep with him someone else would.”

Anger licks at Emily’s insides as Hazel sobs, the sound catching in her chest as she covers her mouth and Emily can feel her own heart cracking in her chest. Every instinct she has is screaming at her to go find the teenage boy who had broken her little girl’s heart and tell him exactly what she thinks of him, but she reminds herself that isn’t what her daughter would want, or even need.

She needed her right here listening to her as she cried and bore her heart to her, pressed up against her chest in a way she hadn’t been in years. 

“I just want someone to love me like Dad loves you,” Hazel cries, shuddering against her, “I thought Brock did.” 

Emily sighs sadly and kisses the top of Hazel’s head as she continues to play with her hair, running her fingers through it like she had done ever since she was small. It was something that had always soothed all of the Hotchners including Aaron, her secret way of calming them down - a touch her husband always liked to say was magic. 

“Sweetheart,” Emily says softly, resting her cheek on top of Hazel’s head, “You’re 15. You have so much time to figure it all out,” she assures her, “I know that doesn’t help how this feels right now. But you do.” 

Hazel laughs humourlessly as she pulls back and shakes her head, “Boys suck.”

Emily chuckles and nods, leaning forward to kiss Hazel’s forehead, “I’m quite fond of your dad and your brothers,” she says, her smile widening slightly when one flashes across her daughter’s face, “But you’re right about the rest of them.” 

Hazel’s smile shakes, “Can I…”

She drifts off, and Emily can see how her cheeks go slightly pink, as if she’s embarrassed by whatever she wants to ask, “Can you what, sweetheart?” 

“Can I sleep in your bed with you and Dad?” She asks, avoiding eye contact again, “I don’t want to sleep alone, and it always made me feel better when I was a kid.” 

Emily has to stop herself from smiling too widely, and from telling Hazel that she was still a kid, well aware it wouldn’t go down well, and she nods, reaching out for her daughter's hand and squeezing it.

“Of course you can, baby.”

___

Aaron is able to distract Issac for a while. 

He’s worried about Hazel, about whatever happened with Brock, the teenage boy Aaron had never been fond of anyway, but he tries to put it to one side to focus on his son. Eventually, not long after he hears Emily and Hazel walk up the stairs and towards the master bedroom, he puts the controller in his hands down, smiling at his son as he checks the time. 

“Time for bed Zac.”

Issac nods and switches off the console, handing Aaron the controller he’d been using so he could put them on the side. Issac hesitates as he lies down, sighing like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders as he does so. 

“Dad,” he says, the concern he’d had for his big sister coming back in full force “Why was Hazel upset?” 

Aaron sighs and sits on the edge of his son’s bed, his hands clasped in his lap as he looks at his youngest, “Brock broke up with her.” 

Issac looks affronted, a frown on his face that Emily would say was all him as he sits up a little straighter, “Why?” 

Aaron had a feeling he knew, but he hoped he was wrong because he knew he’d have to convince his wife to not hunt down a teenage boy he wanted to tell off himself. 

“I don’t know, buddy,” he says, “She’s going to be sad for a little while though.” 

Issac’s frown deepens, “Shall we beat him up?” 

“No, Issac,” Aaron chuckles and reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair, “You need to spend a little less time with Uncle Derek.” 

Issac looks at the one remaining stuffed animal in his room. A few months ago he’d declared he was too old for them and had asked his parents to get rid of all but one - a stuffed black and white cat called Hector that he’d loved since he was a toddler - claiming it would be good to have one for emergencies. Emily had bagged them all up and put them in the loft in case he ever changed his mind, and they all pretended he didn’t cuddle up to Hector every night. Aaron watches as he reaches out for it, hesitating for a split second before he wraps his hand around Hector’s paw and passes it to Aaron. 

“Can you give this to her?” 

Aaron presses his lips together to suppress a smile and grabs the toy from him, “Are you sure buddy?”

Issac nods, “It’s for emergencies and this is an emergency.” 

He smiles and stands up, dropping a kiss on his youngest’s head, blown away by his kindness and empathy as always, “That’s sweet. I’ll make sure she gets him.” 

Issac smiles as he settles back down, “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Zac,” he says, kissing his head again before he heads towards the door, “You know where we are if you need us.” 

He blows out a breath as he steps out into the hallway and he smiles at the stuffed cat in his hands. They’d lost it once when Issac was young, misplacing it at an airport during a vacation. Issac had spent almost a day crying in Emily’s arms as Aaron hunted it down, edging on abusing his privileges as an FBI agent to get his son’s favourite toy back. He steps into the master bedroom and smiles softly as he spots Emily and Hazel curled up together, the teenager looking younger than usual with her make-up gone and her head on her mother’s chest. 

“Zac wanted you to have this,” Aaron says as he walks across the room, exchanging a smile with his wife as he hands the cat over to Hazel.

Hazel chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat. She hugs the toy against her chest and rests her cheek on the top of it, “Hi Hector,” she whispers against its threadbare fur, “Will Zaccy be okay without it? He still likes to sleep with it.” 

Aaron sits on the edge of the bed, “He said he’d be fine,” he assures her, his lips curled into a half smile, “He said this was an emergency.”

“That’s sweet,” Emily says, running her fingers through Hazel’s hair as she imagines how seriously her youngest would have been as he passed the toy over to give to his sister. As an only child, she’d never experienced the love of a sibling, not until she joined the BAU and was suddenly surrounded by people she would one day class as her family. She loved the love her children had for each other, and it gave her comfort that they’d always have each other - even long after she and Aaron were gone one day hopefully decades from now. 

Aaron reaches out and places his hand on Hazel’s knee and squeezes, “You okay, sweetheart?” 

She shrugs, her focus on Hector as she plucks at some lose fur, “I don’t know,” she replies, her lips pressed into a firm line, “Boys are stupid,” she says, her eyes flashing up at him, “Present company not included of course.”

Aaron chuckles and squeezes her knee again, “I’m sure your Mom would agree that I can be plenty stupid myself,” he says, winking at Emily when she rolls her eyes, “You sleeping in here with us?” 

Hazel sniffs and nods, tightening her hold on Hector, “Yeah. Mom said it was okay.” 

“Of course it is,” he says, “I’m going to get ready for bed,” he says, squeezing her knee one more time before he stands up. 

Emily gets up too, slipping out from underneath Hazel, “Me too.” 

“Before you make out in the bathroom,” Hazel says, settling down onto Emily’s pillow, “Please remember your heartbroken kid in your bed.”

Emily smirks at Hazel as she walks to the bathroom, making a point of stepping a little closer to Aaron than necessary, “No promises, honey.” 

As soon as the ensuite door closes behind them, Hazel’s half-hearted joke in response to Emily lost behind the wood, Emily’s shoulders sag, the fake cheeriness she’d put on for their daughter gone in an instant. She covers her face with her hands and sighs, her chest shuddering with it as it escapes. Aaron walks over and pulls her into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She hooks her arms around his back, pressing herself as close to him as possible, soaking as much comfort as she can from him until they go back out into the bedroom and she has to be okay again. 

“What happened?”

She rests her forehead against his shoulder for a moment before she pulls back to look at him, “You have to promise me that you’ll be level-headed about this,” she murmurs, her tongue wetting her lower lip as she shakes her head, “Because I don’t want to be and one of us has to be so we don’t end up on the local news.”

He smiles as he tucks some hair behind her ear, the low light of the bathroom catching on the silver strands he loved so much. She’d dyed her hair for years, hiding the grey flecks that would appear in her roots every couple of months. He’d encouraged her to grow it out. Something about growing older with her, about watching the years they’d spent together reflected in the laugh lines around her eyes that made him love her even more. 

“Well,” he says, “You did used to be a spy. I think we’d get away with it,” he clears his throat  when she raises her eyebrow at him and he nods, “I promise.” 

She blows out a breath and closes her eyes, giving herself a moment to calm herself down, “They were going to have sex,” she says as evenly as she can, not missing how his eyebrows shoot up his forehead and how his grip on her tightens, “She changed her mind and he dumped her for it.”

“He did wha-” he cuts himself off as he raises his voice, the way she glares at him enough to force him to clear his throat, his anger pushed down into his belly, making it roll in a way that makes him feel nauseous, “That is…” he shakes his head, “Is she okay?” 

She laughs humourlessly, “No. She’s completely heartbroken, she said she just wants someone to love her,” her voice cracks and tears burn at the back of her eyes, her breath shaky as she tries to hold it back, “I remember how that feels, Aaron,” her chin trembles, “I just don’t want her to think that next time she doesn’t have a choice if she wants someone to stay with her.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek and wiping away a tear as it slips past her lashes, “She knows she has us, and she’s got a lot of friends and two brothers who love her,” he leans in and kisses her forehead, “She’ll be okay. Maybe not today, or for a little while, but she will be,” he offers her a half smile, “She’s just like you.” 

She smiles at him. It shakes, but it’s genuine, and she nods, hugging him again and breathing him in, giving herself another couple of seconds of him before she steps away and sighs. 

“We should actually get ready for bed,” she says softly, “Before she thinks we really are making out in here.” 

He chuckles and nods, and they get ready quickly and quietly, both of them desperate to get back out to their little girl. Emily is ready first, something that was unusual - her normal skincare routine stripped back to the basics, and she kisses him before she leaves the bathroom, a murmur of her love for him pressed against his lips. 

He’s just about ready himself when he hears his phone vibrate on the counter where he’d set it down as he got changed into his pjyamas and he picks it up, frowning curiously when he sees it’s from Jack. 

Zac texted me about Brock. We ride at dawn. 

Aaron sighs and lovingly shakes his head, enjoying a moment of amusement he knows he shouldn’t show his wife to keep his promise to her that he’d be level-headed about it. He sends a response to his oldest, telling him he’d call him in the morning, and then he heads out to the bedroom. He can’t help but smile when he sees Emily and Hazel curled up together, Hector squished between them. For a moment it’s 10 years ago and Hazel is 5 and upset about monsters that didn’t exist anywhere other than her dreams, not 15 and heartbroken over a boy that never deserved her. He wished he could make it go away for her like he did back then, that there was some way he could make this better, but he knew all he and Emily could do was be there for her. 

“Is he going to join us or just stand there and stare at us?” Hazel stage whispers, not lifting her head from Emily’s shoulders, and he shakes his head before he walks over, climbing under the covers. 

“We should get some sleep,” he says, dropping kisses on both of their foreheads like he would have done all those years ago, another flash of his past colliding with his preset. 

Hazel hums in response and encourages him closer, sighing something near contentedly as she settles between both her parents, “Love you.” 

“We love you too, Haze,” Emily says, running her fingers through her hair, “Try and get some sleep, sweetie.” 

They both lay there for longer than necessary and watch her, their focus on her sharp long after she’s fallen asleep, her grip on the stuffed cat in her arms finally loosening. Both Emily and Aaron wonder where the time had gone, how it had been 15 years since they’d first brought Hazel home, and as they drift off to sleep themselves they idly hope time would slow down so they could enjoy as much time with their children as possible. 

-x-

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