#so ill have to spend another night alone in this silent tiny fucking room

[satiricaily]

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[notnctu]

switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?” 

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.” 

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 

[itsthe-neo-zone]

Wands and potions: NCT Dream & WayV 

Please read the Masterlist before continuing ahead with the upcoming chapter. Thank you.

A/N: I apologize for taking so long to post (im a mess) but i had some issues to deal with, personal things at home and some family members were feeling sick so things were a mess, as always I hope you enjoy the chapter and I’ll try to get back on track. I’m sorry if my posts aren’t up to the standard I usually output in. 

Chapter 17:

[Lyra’s Pov]

[10th Jan 2005]

The first memory I had of my parents was a fight. It was one of my earliest. And one id never forget. The shouts and screams being thrown about. It was hazy and only when I began whimpering and crying weakly the blond male lifted me up into his hold. His cold icy eyes warming up for me. Melting the frozen glacier of cerulean into a deep royal navy.

I’ve been hidden from everyone and anyone around me for their safety and their status in the social wizarding world. I was a child that wasn’t ever supposed to be born and it was hurtful the longer the secret was kept. Whilst my siblings were given all the love and care in the world, lived to be around them in a comforting lovable world. I was left to be brought up by myself. Alone.

[06:18PM]

“You deserve to know, and I deserve to be treated like I’m desired, like I’m loved and wanted.” I murmured quietly my voice came out fragile and broken, its displayed the 14 years of raw emotion behind it.

“Remember when you told me you really felt we were like sisters?” I saw Selene’s expression warp into confusion her lips between teeth as she sat next to me her eyes shaking nervously. She didn’t want to glance into my own, but she nodded confirming my words.

“Well we could be, if Scorpius believes me... when I tell him, I- I’m his half-sister. His blood sister...” Selene stared as if I'd just produced a rhinoceros from my pocket. Though the expression on Scorpius face was unreadable. It was a mix of confusion, guilt and denial.

“Please say something.” I pleaded, he needed to respond. In any way possible, I needed to know how he felt. My heart was being torn by the second, this was worse than being stabbed multiple times and left to bleed to death...

“I can’t- i don’t know- how do I?” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I need some time to think about this.” He stood his eyes frantically looking around, Scorpius looked anxious wanting to leave, and even though it was freezing cold he was loosening the green tie around his neck.

“Please, don’t tell anyone. You can’t let anyone know.” I stood desperately wanting to hold or grab him. I yearned for his acceptance for so many years. My only sibling I cared about. This had to be kept a personal family secret as well.

“Scorpius, are you ok? Do you need me to-” “NO, no- I’m fine,” it came through gritted teeth...

“Selene, just stay with her? I need some space.” He quickly takes his leave frantically looking off, not once did he look back at us.

“Give him some time, he’ll come back. Don’t worry.”

“How are you taking this?” I turn to Selene who was hugging me, her arm on my back comforting me. She seemed dazed, her eyes were clouded. It’s like she wasn't here.

“You were already my sister; all you did was give me confirmation.” She held me close pulling me into her hold.

“Thank you, for being here.” I whisper clutching her robes her hair tickling the side of my face. I was glad to have her around me.

[06:25PM]

Pieces of mirror shatter breaking into a shower of tiny pieces; the amount of negative energy in the air was boundless. “Scorpius please calm down.” the rage in him needed to get out somehow? He wasn’t himself.

“He lied! HE LIED TO ME AND HER!” the bloodcurdling cry echoed; his mouth wide open as he released his inner demons. The scream made all the hair on his body stand. Albus wanted to stop him. To help him.

He couldn’t.

“He had another child, behind her back, she was thrown to the side. Like it was nothing!” The sobbing continued gales began to swirl and enter through the sides of the bathroom. Unknowingly, he was brewing a whirlwind. A storm hitting, equal to the force it felt inside him. It was building for weeks now and all Lyra did was confirm the reality.

His vice was strained, and it hurt like hell, but he continued letting all the pain and sorrow out. His head was pounding now. He wanted it to stop. Scorpius yearned for the numb feeling

“Stop you’re going to hurt yourself.” We he? Scorpius wished He’d hurt himself. Maybe that pain would distract him from the searing agony he was feeling. Pain sears through his abdomen better than a branding iron, his mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion.

Everything had been a lie.

“Want it to end. Please.” The crouched figure in the centre of the room strained himself. He didn’t want to be here anymore. “leave.”

Albus couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave his friend in such a vulnerable and defenceless position. “let me help you.” A crack in his voice, it shows the pain he was feeling it reflected into Albus. the young boy stumbled back pushing from the sheer force of the gales that tormented Scorpius this whole time.  

“I SAID GO!”

The pain was increasing in waves; getting bigger by the second, giving false hope of an end. But it would never end.

It was too loud to hear anything at this point the push of the wind tore bits off the wooden cubicle doors. Becoming spinning daggers of anger within the whirling storm.

Scorpius increased the howling gusts, faster and faster until they sheathed him with a spray of sprinkled sharp edges and crusted glass, they shimmered in the ill lit bathroom; the gloomy skies reflecting its dusty grey cold rays.

“Scorpiu-”

Albus had no way of coming near him he was forced out of the bathroom having no choice but to leave his friend in there suffering alone. The soft tears fell down the boy’s face, he hated the haunted feeling of having no form of control over the situation.

 Across the empty acres of land, empty silent castle hauntingly still not much moving, was two figures perched up upon the north towers. A forbidden duo, though ones that felt comforted in another’s presence. The light breeze slowly yet surely trying to pull against their night robes.

“I want to get over the anxiety I have, I want to control my feelings not the other way.” murmured to the male, she had been spending most of her time. Days -and starting now- her nights were spent with the devilish Durmstrang boy.

“It’s not easy.” he spun on his own two feet looking across the edge of the tower towards her. Selene was perched upon the handle of the metallic barrier.

“I know. but I want to at least try. Will you help me?” Selene was in her sleeping robes she was twiddling with her wand spending most her days with him she had gotten extremely comfortable with the male who she has come to know for his sharp tongue and the ability to be quite convincing.  

“I will. But first you need to show that you can trust me.”

“I do, I trust you.” Selene leaned off just a little further. She was content in being here silently with him. But was he? did he enjoy their secret nights alone?

“Do you think I can be like them?” letting her hair cascade past her figure, taking orders from the wind it wrapped over her -like the tentacles of the giant squid- across her body.

“Like them?” Repeating the words; he asked for more.

“My ancestors. I want to find out more.” It was like a persistent hunger that couldn’t be satiated. From a fairly long time, it was that absence of complete acceptance and love. Deep down she understood that but was she never going to admit it?

“You want to follow the prophecy?” a hesitant nod answered his questioning. the endless chewing on her dry lips and thoughts fighting against one another proved to show the utter confusion in what she really wanted. The certainty was on one thing though “I want to belong.”

“A girl, Dominique, from Beauxbaton.” Leaving the edge Selene moved towards the boy getting slightly closer. “She mentioned that the Lestrange ancestral family had a connection to France.”

“You think it could be important?” she pondered over his words for a moment. “Didn’t you mention that Grindelwald had his convocation in Paris France?”

“He did. But what’s-”

“I can find out more, what happened? Who I am.” Curling back into herself Selene hummed a soft tune she was comforted by her own arms wrapping around herself. Making her feel the soft pressure upon her own body.

“Selene.” Yangyang mumbled as he stepped closer sitting next to her “When you were at the mirror, the first time we met, it showed you something.” he grasped her two hands in his softly rubbing his slender fingers over her palm. His eyes were captivating.

“it showed me myself.”

“it showed you something else along with it.” He edged, the slight smile on his face and his eyes boring into selenes pushed her to continue. It felt as if everything was surreal, it was all a dream, why was everything so easily spilling past her lips.

“What I wanted; I want to find myself.” Capturing his eyes she glanced at the void contained the magnitude of the earth and the blackhole sucking the shimmers of light inwards. Nothing could escape.

“I promise I can help you do that, but you can’t go to France just yet.”

“I can’t go to France…” Selene murmured his eyes were captivating. As time passed slowly, she fell deeper into his gaze.

“Yes, you have something to do. First.”

 [13th October]

“Someone has taken a large noticeable dose of tentacle juice, from the private potions storage. If anyone has any known whereabouts or knows of anyone having sources, you must inform your head of year or head of house. Thank you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me-” shifting to take seat next to her position next to the others the raven-haired witch sat calmly the frustration only evident in her voice. “-they wake us up at 8am for this?”

“Yeah, some bastard nicking a few drops of poison…” Irene adds muttering, every single student for a 20-meter radius was yawning uncontrollably and dozing off on the study tables but once awake you needed to prepare for breakfast.

“Where were you this morning?” Ravelle had a sly smile on her lips as she pondered not so innocently over the whereabouts of the ginger witch before her.

“Out taking a short walk.” Blowing out an exasperated huff Selene stood taking her leave from the depressing and sleep deprived circle, “You know there’s only so much ‘Ravelle’ I can take in one day.” Sarcasm slipping past her voice was what made the sneaky witch drop her innocent act.

“Really, I’ve only asked you one question you shouldn’t be so defensive… unless there is something for you to hide?”

Selene stopped in her tracks, movement stuttering for a second. The wrapping of a dusty cloth rough in her hands.

“I have nothing to hide.” The outrage in her voice was enough to alert those around them that somewhat of a fight was about to start and, like the usual- all hell was about to break loose.

“Though I must let you know that I am exceeding the amount of ‘bitchiness’ I can take from you in a day so mind if I leave?” she widened her eyes turning to face the raven and nodded frivolously, she feigned sorrow for her and a sympathetic smile came to her face as she left.

“Thought you’d never ask…” Ravelle murmured the words she wasn’t interested in Selene herself. The antics she had grown accustomed to, -since that night with the celebratory introduction Selene had been on edge, spitting back ruthlessly and harsh words were leaving her lips- Ravelle eyed the linen wrap in her hands, it covered something, and it was important, no doubt delicate by the way she was cradling it to her core like a mother would do to her babe.

   [1st November]

Many days passed and winter edged nearer, visibly shortening the once lengthy and enjoyable days. The cold let soft cotton and thick clothes layer up with the many peaking noses out of scarves turn red and pink. 

The clouds of air exhaled when talking put things together but what really allowed the community to know the ending of summer solstice was the thick coat of white sheen that glistened in the early morning rays, covering the lands and lulling them to sleep.

“Anyone received any personal invites to the yule ball?” Albus whispered to the young brunette. The two now becoming much friendlier than usual were confiding in themselves after all they both had Scorpius to worry about.

“No not yet.” She glanced at him weary of the random questioning. lyra had enough on her plate already. It was harsh and difficult that her only brother wasn’t talking to her and Selene was sleeping off half her days and running of at night.

“If this is about Selene the-” “It’s not.”

“Then who-”

“I’m just asking.” She shuffled to turn towards him, sceptically reading his face the Slytherin shifted uncomfortably. “Such a liar.”

“You dummy, I can see it in your eyes. Who pushed you to do this? This is about Selene.”

“It isn’t, I swear.” His hands flew up in retaliation. The silent pause of scepticism made him sigh in relief when she dropped the accusations.  

“I’m sick of this, it’s all going to hell and I cant get any of them to even sit and talk to me. It’s awful.” Lyra whined her frustration could be seen in the way she tugged at her roots the hair lengthier than it was a few weeks ago.

“Scorpius isn’t ready to face this ye-.”

“-Hell never be ready then. Albus I can’t wait any more. How does he think I feel?” the brunette boys turned into saucers at the sudden interruption. She had been waiting for the past 3 weeks and it was getting agitating for a while, but nobody understood her. The way she felt.

“Whats wrong with Selene then? He can’t talk now so whats the issue with your ginger friend?”

“Oh don’t get me started with her.” She shifts in her seat lyra was starting to remember the situations Selene was in, breaking her heart for the past fortnight. “She’s gone, really lost it.”

“Sleeps all day and sneaks out at night, its odd Selene would have never done such a thing.” She mutters, the frown on her face showed her feeling of betrayal. “I can’t get her to spend any time with me at all, it’s always ‘Yangyang this Yangyang that’!”

“Wait.”

“You mean Durmstrang Liu” if his eyes were saucers back then they were as wide as cauldrons. His hands clenched up visibly the whole demeanor he possessed was stiffened within a second, Lyra didn’t comprehend the change until she spared him a quick glimpse.

“Yeah him,” she blinked dropping her head further into her grasp as she questioned his body language “Whats got you so surprised, most girls already know!”

“Liu Yangyang that German-Taiwanese boy?” the voice crack gave him away, there was definitely something wrong, but Lyra had no clue what was happening to him, what kind of reaction was that.

“Hold on know what?” he interrupted again.

“Well, supposedly they’re in a relationship, and I don’t know… but he’s really affecting Selene.”

“They can’t be though?” the denial in his voice was giving all the wrong signals and signs, Lyra turned towards him fully, hands out of hair and eyes skimming his face, his expression wasn’t helping the previous accusations planted upon him by her.

“Why Albus? Do you like her or something?”

What came out of his mouth after wasn’t a big shocker or anything but lyra was shocked to find out such a revelation and from him, Albus, who seemed to have no clue who the boy is.

“No, its just. He has a girlfriend already,”

“Yeah Selene.” The response came quick.

“No, he’s engaged to her, its not Selene. She’s back in Germany.” He was referring to another girl, that Selene wasn’t the only one in a relationship with the male and it made Lyra's blood boil.

“HE’S TWO-TIMING?”

The two had another issue to deal with, Selene couldn’t find out, even if it meant lying to her. She wouldn’t be able to handle what was to come.

@ajuniceuajuniceu​ @kkuljungwoo​ @sensiblebutch​ @kangkinoa​ @nctzen2020​ @mystic-jungkook​ @merryandhappylele​ @bcbymingi​ @mochischeeks  @rilakunma​ @jaehyunspaghetti​ @commentgirl​ @99jjh​ @johnnys-wifeu​ @misaraem @apricottulips​ @h2ogamergirl @angelsnowflake​

[harrytomylou]

You’ll always find your way back home.. - Louis (Includes Harry/Louis)

* I’m posting old fanfictions that I wrote onto this account simply because I want to keep them for myself *

No Trigger Warnings

Sometimes you feel like running, find a whole new life and jump in.

It was obvious really.

The pressure was getting to Louis and even the fans were beginning to notice it now.

‘Do you ever just wish you could go back to before?’ He whispered into Harry’s ear one night while they and Niall were watching Liam and Zayn play Mario cart in the living room area of their tour bus.

‘Do you?’ Harry replied, not willing to let his mouth answer the question himself. They all knew the answer. The entire band wanted to go home. They wanted to see their family and friends and Liam wanted to see his girlfriend. Louis wanted to stop being made to spend every minute of his spare time proving a fake relationship was real and spend time with his boyfriend and family instead and Harry wanted the exact same. They all loved their life. They loved touring and singing and none of them would change it for the world. They were just so stressed and their management wasn’t helping that. They just wanted to be themselves. Be in control of when they went home for a couple of days or when they stayed on tour and be in control of their own lives.

‘Yeah.’ Louis whispered before sighing and laying his head on Harry’s shoulder from his position on the sofa beside him. ‘Sometimes I just look at our fans and think ‘fuck, I wish my life was that easy again.’ You know?’ Louis muttered into his secret boyfriend’s collarbone.

‘Yeah.’ Harry whispered in agreement.

‘No hassle. No management. No hiding who they are. Nothing. They can be whoever they want to be. We have to be what management thinks will get them more money. I hate it, Haz.’

‘I know, Lou.’ Harry muttered back, sympathetically.

‘And the majority of our fans either live with their families or see them every other fucking day. I’m so homesick, Harry. Sometimes, I just want to run. Run away from everything.’

‘I know, baby. I know.’ Harry muttered as he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to his fragile boyfriends head. ‘Everything will be okay. I promise.’ He whispered before taking Louis’ chin in his hand and pulling his head up slightly to connect their forbidden lips.

Your best friends, your little hometown, are waiting up where ever you go now; you know that you can always turn around.

Louis Tomlinson > Stanley Lucas

10:06am - Hey mate.

10:08am - Hey! How are you?

10:10am - Stressed, bored and ill. You?

10:14am - M’alright. Why you stressed?

10:17am - Touring and shit. The stress is making me feel ill… I just want to come home.

10:19am - It’ll be over soon, mate. Do you know when you’re next off?

10:23am - I hope so. I really miss everyone. We have a day off in about a week but we’re not allowed back to England for another 3 months! Manager says we’re too busy.

10:26am - That’s shit! We all miss you too, Lou. We’re all waiting up for you to come back!

10:30am - I’m waiting up to come back, man!

10:31am - It’ll fly by, mate.

10:32am - I really hope so.

10:34am - Miss you.

10:47am - Miss you too. Got to get back to rehearsals. Call me later?

10:50am - Course, Lou.

11:09am - Love you, Stan.

11:11am - Love you too man!

Louis Tomlinson > Jay Tomlinson

6:01pm - Louis, Stan came round earlier and told me about what you were texting about. If touring is too much for you right now, come home xx

6:44pm - I can’t. You know that xx

6:45pm - You can do whatever you need to. It’s your life and you’re my son. If you need to come home, you will xx

6:47pm - I’m okay, mum. Honest. I was just kind of letting everything out with Stan. I’m alright xx

6:49pm - No you’re not. I know you better than that, Lou. At least tell them you need a short break xx

6:50pm - I have. It’s not changed their minds. Money is more important to them.. xx

6:51pm - Just leave then? Xx

6:54pm - I can’t let everyone down like that xx

6:56pm - Oh, Louis.. Well, if you change your mind just call me. You’ll always be welcome here baby. It’s your home! Xx

6:58pm - I love you xx

7:00pm - Love you too, honey. Is Harry taking care of you? Xx

7:02pm - Yes mum :’). Go to go, concert. Talk to you later xx

7:04pm - Okay, baby. The girls and I love and miss you xx

7:05pm - Love and miss you all too.. So much xx

7:07pm - Have a good concert, boo. Remember you can always come home if you need too xx

When I’m feeling down and I’m all alone, I’ve always got a place where I can go.

‘Louis? You alright?’ Louis’ 13 year old sister answered the phone quickly.

‘Not really.’ Louis muttered as a reply. He had been wanting to call Lottie for hours but had held on to make sure she had returned home from school and was able to answer without getting in trouble. He had always been close to his younger sister. They spoke about everything and anything, their 7 year age gap not mattering to them one bit. Louis could trust Lottie with everything and she and Harry were often the only ones who could honestly cheer him up.

‘What’s up, bro? Isn’t it, like, midnight where you are?’

‘It’s 4 in the morning.’ Louis replied quietly.

‘Okay, now I know it’s something big.’ She stated. Louis stayed silent, a small smile already grazing his lips. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m just’ Louis paused, suddenly feeling stupid for calling her about something so insignificant while he should be sleeping and she would most probably rather be out with her friends.

‘You’re just what, Lou?’ She asked, worried.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Louis, if you’re calling me at 4 in the morning, it’s got to matter.’ Lottie stated, suddenly sounding way more mature than a girl should be at her age. Louis laughed gently into the receiver. ‘Tell me?’ She asked, tone softening.

‘I just miss you.’ He whispered, blushing and burying his head into his tear soaked pillow even though she couldn’t see him. There was silence for a couple of seconds before the young girl spoke.

‘Oh, Lou.’ She whispered gently. She knew just how much it affected Louis, being away from home, her, their sisters and their mum so much.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you.’ He mumbled embarrassed as he heard one of the other boys choke out a shut up from their bunk. ‘Fuck off.’ He called slightly louder to whoever it was. Lottie figured it wasn’t directed to her so she ignored it.

‘It’s alright, Lou. You can call me if you want to, you know that. I don’t care.’ She murmured down the phone, attempting to comfort her older brother. The one who was usually so strong and comforting her. Louis hummed in reply.

‘It’ll be over soon, Louis. You’ll be home before you know it.’

‘I hope so.’ He whispered, tears escaping his eyes again. Lottie sensed it.

‘Don’t cry, Louis. Not again. It’s okay.’ She whispered back.

‘How do you know I’ve been crying?’ He whispered, voice cracking in sympathy half way through his sentence.

‘I’m your sister. I know you.’ She laughed gently. He laughed too. ‘Where’s Harry?’

‘Asleep. I don’t want to wake him. He was so tired.’ Louis replied, wiping the stay tears away from his cheeks before burying his head back into the, now wet, pillow of the tiny single bunk bed.

‘Fair enough. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to distract you?’

‘Distract me please, Lottie?’ He muttered vulnerably.

‘Of course. What time do you have to be up?’

‘6.’ He whispered.

‘Shit.’ She replied under her breath.

‘Yeah.’ He agreed.

‘Do you want to even bother trying to sleep or do you just want to talk for the next 2 hours?’

‘Talk.’ He spoke, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall again. ‘Lottie, I’m so homesick. I hate it. I just want to’ He paused, unaware or what he was even trying to say. ‘I don’t even know.’ He whispered.

‘I know, Lou. Only a little while now though. You can do it.’ She replied softly. Louis hummed, unsure. Lottie stayed silent, eyes searching around her suddenly empty room for something to talk about to distract her broken older brother. Louis was such a role model for her. She hated seeing (or hearing in this case) him hurting. It hurt her. Louis was always the strong one. The life of the party. To see management take away his freedom to the extent where his main personality traits left him was heart breaking for the new teen. Her eyes landed on a letter sticking out of the top of her school bag and she smiled gently.

‘I’m going to Thorpe Park in 2 weeks.’ She stated excitement evident in her voice. Louis smiled, hearing it.

‘With school?’ He asked. Lottie grinned even more as she heard the smile on Louis’ lips.

‘Yeah.’ She replied, thankful she had managed to cheer her personal idol up slightly, even if it was only temporary.

Where they know exactly who you are, where the real you is a superstar, you know it’s never too far away.

Louis sighed slightly as he felt Harry tighten his grip on the older boy. They were currently lying on the double bed of one of the many hotel rooms they stayed in at just gone 5 in the afternoon. They surprisingly only had a couple of interviews that day and had gotten back to their hotel room at about 4 o clock. Harry and Louis had left the other boys playing Xbox in Liam’s room and come back to their own to collapse on top of their beds in each other’s arms at about half  4. They had fallen into a pointless conversation easily which had died down by now and had been replaced with thoughts.

Louis was currently thinking about Doncaster.

He felt safe there. It was his home. The same sort of safe he felt with Harry. Despite being almost 3 years younger, the green eyed boy seemed to have that effect on Louis instantly. Louis had just felt a vibe from Harry. He was safety. Harry knew Louis like the palm of his hand. The same way pretty much everyone in his home town did.

Back home there was no secrets with Louis. Everyone knew he was gay. Everyone knew he was with Harry. That’s why he loved it. They knew and loved him for exactly who he was. He didn’t have to hide anything. They loved him for him. Louis from Doncaster. Not Louis Tomlinson from One Direction. And sometimes that was one of the most comforting thoughts. They cared. They weren’t pretending. They weren’t lying. They weren’t fake. They cared. He was loved back home. He was missed.

But you know what? With Harry around to help, for Louis home was never that far away anyway.

You can learn to fly and you can chase your dreams, you can laugh and cry but everybody knows, you’ll always find your way back home.

'Oh my god.’ Louis heard a small voice mutter from the doorway of the kitchen in which he was currently stood making a cup of tea. He grinned happily before abandoning what he was doing and turning around to face the younger girl stood behind him.

‘Hey Lottie.’

‘Oh my god.’ She repeated slightly louder, eyes fixed on Louis’ as a wide smile spread on her face.

‘What?’ They heard Jay shout from the hallway.

‘Hi mum.’ Louis yelled through the house, grinning even more when he heard his mother’s shocked gasp.  

‘Lou.’ He heard his little sister whisper as she practically ran into his arms. He let out a small laugh as he hugged back tightly.

‘Louis!’ He heard two younger girls exclaim as he pulled away from Lottie.

‘Dais! Phoeb!’ He opened his arms and crouched down as his two 8 year old sisters ran towards him wrapping their arms around his neck and clinging to it. He distantly heard Lottie laugh gently.

‘I thought you weren’t coming home for, like, another week? I thought you were coming with Harry?’ Felicite asked joyfully as she hugged her older brother tightly, seconds after the two girls had let go. Louis laughed again.

‘We got bored in London and missed home too much so we decided to stand up to management. Harry’s gone back to Cheshire for a week and I’ve come here.’ He replied as he walked over to his mum, the last of the five to walk through the kitchen door, pulling her into a tight hug as well as she dropped the bags in her hand carelessly onto the floor. He and Harry were supposed to drive down to Doncaster exactly a week later to join both his immediate family and Harry’s, who were staying in a hotel for a week so they could be with the two boys, Jay and the girls.

Carefully wiping away the small happy tear that had escaped his eye, he pulled back seconds later just enough to allow both he and his mum to pull all 4 of his younger siblings in to join them in a group hug.

He had missed this. He had missed them. He loved his life. He loved everything about it. The singing. The foreign countries. The screams. The band. His boyfriend. It was all a part of his dream. He’d got there. They’d done it. But right now, his family were taking over that. His sisters and his mum. His world. His happiness. He loved them more than he ever would the fortune and fame.

And as much as he loved Harry, Doncaster and his family were his true home.

You’ll always find your way back home..

[7deadlycinderellas]

I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry

Ao3 link

 Arya hated King’s Landing. It was hot, crowded, smelly and full of idiots. Outside the Red Keep was nearly as bad as within.

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she weren’t so lonely. King Robert had wanted to make a match with Sansa and his odious oldest son Joffrey. He had been so disappointed to discover that Sansa had been promised to Willas Tyrell and had left for Highgarden a scarce few moons before. Arya had never gotten along with her sister, but she still missed her. At least her ravens indicated that she was enjoying herself.

 Mother and Bran were supposed to come with them, but then Bran had fallen. Arya couldn’t get the image of her younger brother, pale and small and broken from her mind. He hadn’t even woken up before they’d left Winterfell, though Mother had sent a raven that he had woken and was healing, though Maester Luwin indicated he would never walk again.

 Now she was alone with her father in the capital. She’s two and ten and the Red Keep holds very little appeal for her. Joffrey’s awful, and she spends much of her time avoiding him. Tommen and Myrcella are nice enough, but not of much interest to her. So, Arya begins seeking her entertainment in other places.

 Namely, outside of the Red Keep’s walls.

That’s how she meets the smith. **

“Can you fix it?”

Gendry looked up at the girl holding the tiny sword. Small, thin, dark haired, gray eyed, not quite five and ten years old. Not terribly remarkable except for the sword. Castle forged steel it was. She’d let him look it over many times in the nearly three years she’d been incessantly hanging around his shop.

Right now it’s in two pieces.

Gendry raises an eyebrow.

“How’d you manage that?”

Arya shrugs.

“Don’t know really. I was practicing after a lesson with Syrio and it just came apart.”

Gendry takes the pieces and examines it. The pommels just come apart from the rest of the hilt, it should be an easy fix.

“I can do it,” he pauses, “Six coppers.”

Arya sputters, but reaches into her purse. She’d had to sneak the coins, but figures no one should miss enough for a patch job.

“Really think you ought to do it on the house, for services rendered.”

Gendry snorts.

“I’m afraid the work of this smith requires coin payment, milady,”

He loves watching her ears go red with anger when he calls her that. It is a reflex, no matter how many times she tells him to call her Arya, but he knows it’s safer if he doesn’t fight the reflex.

Services rendered. She’d been saying that ever since she chased down that one snot nosed brat who’d stolen his helm that time. Kid was no more than eight, but she’d carried him right back down and made him give it back.

Arya studies him as he begins to work. He didn’t bother telling her to leave and come back, she would wait however long it took. She was still looking at him oddly when he finishes.

“What?”

Her head is cocked.

“Are you ill? Go off with another fancy girl in an alehouse last night? You’re acting weird.”

Gendry exhales. He shouldn’t have told her about that woman anyway, but she was the one who slapped him back to reality after coming to in the alley behind the shop with his bag of coins stolen and a nasty bump on his head. That was what he got for assuming a fancy girl like that would ever want him.

He wishes Arya wasn’t such a good listener, it was really inappropriate for him to be talking to a highborn girl like her so much anyway. It was probably just as inappropriate for her to be hanging around in a blacksmith’s shop and carrying a sword.

“No, just wondering when I’m going to get more work. Mott just finished up that big commission he’s been doing, so I won’t be having to help every single other person who comes in now.”

The answer apparently satisfies Arya who sits only fidgeting a bit until he’s finished. Then she passes Needle back to her, she reluctantly counts out his coins and they part ways for the day.

She’ll be back. She always is.

And once he finishes up the rest of his morning work, he eats the dry bread and hard cheese he’d brought for lunch and goes to seek out Mott to deliver that commission for him.

“I really have to go all the way up to the Red Keep?” he asked, shaking his head. Leave it to a highborn to not be willing to come down even for a few minutes to pick up something he’d purchased.

Mott nodded.

“Use the craftsman’s entrance, and wait for the Hand of the King, he will pay you and you can be on your way.”

The hand of the king? Why on earth would he be the one receiving a delivery? Gendry muses on this as he leaves Flea Bottom.

He’d met Ned Stark just once, all those years ago. Meeting Arya he’d been able to see the resemblance easy enough. He’d thought he seemed a good enough man, and Arya always spoke highly of her father, so he’s not too worried about it.

The Red Keep looks as strange close up as it does from the other parts of the city, and as strange as it sounded in Arya’s stories. Gendry’s surprised to discover that the stench of the city stretches all the way up here.

He doesn’t wait long, but when Lord Stark arrives, the whole encounter becomes a blur. He doesn’t even look at the sword, not really. He does look at Gendry however, appraisingly, but not quite like you would appraise a side of beef.

He barely has time to wonder what’s up when the goddamn King of the seven kingdoms pops up, and who is definitely appraising him like a side of beef.

“You were right Ned, he’s a spitting image!”

Spitting image? From Gendry’s perspective, the King was the one that was spitting.

Ned puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to sit down, then says something to one of the guards. Gendry sits for fear of passing out.

When Ned speaks, his voice is quiet. It seems his Grace isn’t even paying much in the way of attention.

“-should have known the moment I set eyes on you. The king has bastards across the seven kingdoms…”

It should shock him, but it really doesn’t. Gendry always knew he was the son of some drunk who didn’t care a sod for him or his mother. But still- seven hell, he was the son of the king?

He is shocked, when the guard returns with Arya in tow.

To her credit, she is dressed just as he was in the shop, and is gaping as much as he is. Ned introduces her, but she doesn’t say anything, and Gendry can’t say anything either.

Ned grabs Arya by the arm and talks to her quietly. Gendry can’t make out everything, but he can see Arya’s face.

“I’ll send someone back to Flea Bottom to get your things-”

Arya shakes her head.

“Let me go, he doesn’t have much,”

She turns to Gendry,

“Do you want any of your things aside from that stupid helm?”

Suddenly lost, Gendry shakes his head. Once she leaves the room, he looks pleadingly to Lord Stark for an explanation. His face is pinched, as though he is in pain at the thought of what’s coming next.

“It seems you’ve met my daughter already?”

Gendry nods, silent, in hopes that that’s the right answer.

“For how long?”

Gendry’s even more confused,

“She wandered into the blacksmith’s shop two and half years ago. She hangs around all the time, can’t seem to get rid of her, but she’s good enough to talk to.”

Lord Stark’s mouth is still thin, but Gendry swears he sees a tiny smile begin to form.

“My men used to often call her Arya Underfoot, she could make friends anywhere she went, don’t know why I thought it would be any different here, as much as I’ve feared for her safety...but that might at least smooth some bits of this out a bit.”

Smooth out? What on earth-

Lord Stark puts a hand back on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to dump everything on you at once.”

Arya eventually returns, and hands him a bundle with the bull’s head helm on top. She gives him a look before Lord Stark pulls her aside and Gendry is left alone with his thoughts.

When the pair of them return, Arya’s face is pinched and an interesting mix of purple and brown that makes Gendry feel like she’d been yelling. She’s dressed differently, in a shirt and green wool dress. Perfectly ordinary among women of nearly every station. And she’s carrying two bags.

Gendry wants to ask her what happened, but can’t find any words.

“It-it’s getting late, I should be getting back to the forge-”

Lord Stark shakes his head.

“I’m sending you north.”

Gendry’s mind explodes.

“I-”

He shakes his head again, and gets up and begins leading them, down through the craftsman's exit. Dimly, Gendry realizes that several guards, all northerners from the looks of them, are following them. He’s trying to figure out where Lord Stark could possibly be taking them, when they turn towards the docks. His stomach flips itself over and over, inside and out. Fucking hells, he was serious.

Gendry’s steps are unsteady when they reach the boat. He doesn’t know what kind it is- can’t tell one boat from another, truthfully. He tries not to fall. The Stark’s other men come aboard, paying him no mind, and talk to another man, who must be the captain.

Peering precariously over the edge, he sees Lord Stark talking with his daugther again. He makes out bits, “I can’t…he’s my friend...you remember Jon...be mean to him.”

He can’t even pretend to make heads or tails of it, so he leans back and tries not to fall off the side before the ship even leaves.

Eventually, Arya makes her way onboard, asks one of the men where the cabin is, grabs Gendry by the wrist and drags him off.

The boat smells of salt, damp wood, and sweat. It’s crowded by men who look much like the ones he used to see all along the street of steel. Thankfully, they seem preoccupied with actually doing their work instead of picking a fight with the largest person here.

Arya pulls them into the cabin, which is tiny, with only two straw mattresses and space for their bags in the middle. She drops everything on the floor, shuts the door, and begins pacing.

“Arya,” Gendry roughly interrupts. Using her name gets her attention at least, and his voice softens, “I think I’m owed an explanation.”

Arya bites her lip and takes a deep breath before sitting, cross legged on the straw mattress.

“King Robert is not known for being a faithful husband. He has bastard children all over the seven kingdoms. You’re the oldest boy my father has tracked down. You have a sister in the Vale, and a brother in Storm’s End as well.”

OK, Gendry had managed to surmise the first part of that.

“If this is well known-”

Arya cuts him off.

“Because my father has begun to suspect that the Queen’s children are not the King’s.”

That takes Gendry aback for a moment, but he thinks of the burly, dark haired king and the queen’s three extremely blonde children, and it makes  a bit of sense.

“He hasn’t managed to gather any proof, but if word leaks out, you could be in danger, so he wanted to get you out of the city, and to get you north where we could keep you safe, and teach you all those stupid highborn things you’re supposed to know.”

Seven hells, were they really going to try and make a highborn out of him? Gendry had spent most of his life in the dirt laughing at those above him. Thinking of how stupid they looked in their bright, ostentatious outfits and their overpowering perfume. It was easier than resenting them and that they could crush them all under their feet. Did they really want him to become like that? He’s spent his whole life living the role of the bastard blacksmith, he’s not sure he could do anything else.

Arya’s face is still cranky, she’s got her arms crossed and her chin tucked into her chest.

“There’s something else isn’t there?”

Arya takes a deep breath and rubs her temple before continuing.

“Father and King Robert agreed the best way to make your no one doubts your legitimacy- before he does it officially of course- would be to find your a highborn girl to marry.”

Well, this keeps getting better and better. Gendry had never really thought any girl would ever want to marry him, and he’d learned his lesson about going off with randoms.

“So did they drop a name?”

Arya stares at him like he’d grown a second head.

“What?”

She stares harder.

“Gods you’re stupid.”

She then rolls her eyes completely upward and points at herself.

Gendry’s brain momentarily stops working.

“I can’t marry you, what are you, ten?”

“I’m nearly fifteen!”

He knows that, but that’s still his knee jerk reaction. Arya’s a shrimp for her age.

“Don’t we get any say in this?”

Arya looks like she wants to call him stupid again.

“Oh you really don’t know how this highborn thing works.”

She bites her lip and breathes in deeply.

“Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave you to the vultures down south. Plenty of women would see a new, green prince and see the perfect opportunity to latch on and get their claws in you.”

Prince, fucking hell.

“And at least we’re actually friends.”

Yes. Friends. Those were things he could really use at about this moment. Looking at how riled up Arya is disturbs him. She was always so carefree.

He sits on the other mattress, and rests his head in his hands. After a moment, he tilts his head in her direction.

“Are you really okay with this?”

Arya snorts softly, with less derision than he would expect.

“I’ve never wanted to marry anyone, I always thought I’d find some way out of it, maybe run away over the wall. But I trust my father, and it’s not like we’re doing it next week, it will be at least a year or two until they can teach you history and manners and how to walk like you’ve got a spear shoved up your arse, and then Robert can declare you the proper crown prince.”

There it is again.

“I don’t know how to do any of this,” Gendry admits, “I can’t read or write much, and I don’t know much of anything about being outside of Flea Bottom, and they’re going to want me to be the fucking crown prince?”

Arya laughs.

“You’re getting too stuck on the big, lofty things too fast, we have time. I’m still stuck on the fact that I’m going to have to see you naked.”

Well, he has been trying very hard not to let his brain wander in that direction, but since she’s gotten there herself…

“Don’t pretend you don’t want a piece of all of this,” Gendry teases, with his hands gesturing back towards his chest and a shit eating grin, “I know that’s the real reason you always hung around when I would work with my shirt off-”

His sentence is cut off with an “oof” when Arya tackles him to the mattress, knee aiming far too close to his balls. He manages to wiggle free, but she’s far too slippery for him to pin. She kicks him in the side, and he drops one of her wrists, when she shakes her head and snarks,

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look you in the eye after that.”

Heaving, she finally agrees to say uncle when she realizes the other Stark men might find them like this, unceremoniously shoves Gendry on his back, and goes to retrieve them lunch.

Gendry doesn’t like boats much. The rocking makes him feel constantly sick, and there’s hardly anything to look at. And it’s not like he has work to be done.

Arya spends her time giving him a rundown of everything he’ll have to know before getting to Winterfell. She knows the names of all the men who came on the boat with them, who all greet her by name when they see her, and spare him suspicious looks.

Arya rolls her eyes at that.

She points him out the lines over the water where the whales come up for air. Gendry’s never thought much of the ocean, but the idea of animals living beneath it that are so huge has a way of making you feel small.

The last day aboard, Arya tells him about Jon. It’s not the first time, but it’s the first that he’s gotten the details.

“Father won’t tell us who his mother is,” Arya says so softly it’s almost a whisper, “Won’t even speak a word of her. And ever since Jon left for hte wall…” she trails off.

Gendry frowns. Even in just a few short interactions, Gendry could see the respect and admiration Arya had for her father.

“I know lots of men have bastard children,” she continues, “Men like your father who care nothing at all for their wives. But him and Mother always seemed so perfectly in love...and he acts so secretive about it, even when Mother treated Jon…”

She sucks in a breath, and her voice abruptly changes. Gendry is seized by the desire to tell her he would never do that to her, to tell her how exactly zero parts of him wants to be anything like his father, but the idea gets caught in his throat. Inappropriate he thinks, far from the time.

“You should be on your best behavior around my mother, she has very set views on what bastards are like, and they are not positive.”

Arya’s voice darkens.

“She has very set views on what ladies are like too. It’s been nearly three years...I wonder if she’ll soften at all to my trousers and sword wielding if I’ve already found myself a husband…”

Gendry looks her up and down. She’s wearing the same plain dress she’s worn the whole voyage, and her hair is tied back with several bits flying loose in the salty air.

“How come you don’t like wearing dresses?”

Arya looks at him, confused, as though no one has ever thought to ask her that question before.

“They get caught on things, dragged in puddles, trap my feet when I run...before I started taking Bran and Jon’s cast offs, I don’t think I owned a single piece of clothing that hadn’t been dripping in mud at one point. But a girl traveling in trousers is something people would remember, and we don’t want this crew to remember us.”

The crew that has been thankfully ignoring them, save to provide them their sad rations of salted meat and hard tack.

They disembark in White Harbour, and Gendry couldn’t be more grateful. The voyage disagreed with him greatly, and despite the frigid winter air, he’s just happy to be on solid ground again.

The first night they off board, when they camp along the road, is when Arya changes back into the same deerskin breeches she wore pretty much every time he’d seen her in Flea Bottom.

“I like you like this,” he tells her when he’s eyeing the horse one of the Stark men had obtained in White Harbour warily, as though it could smell his unease from here, “You look like yourself.”

Arya’s face is inscrutable as she mounts her own horse, much more easily than him.

They’re riding a bit further from the others when she quietly replies,

“I’m sorry I’m not pretty. The future crown prince would have his choice of the most beautiful women in the seven kingdoms for his bride usually, and you’re stuck with Arya Horseface.”

Horseface? Gendry exchanges a glance with the dark gray mare he’s riding. Her eyes are dim and resigned. No resemblance there at all.

“Maybe your face won’t sink ships,” he tells her gently, “but you aren’t ugly.  There’s more than one kind of pretty, and pretty isn’t everything.”

And Gendry’s not sure if he would trust a pretty woman who claimed to want him anymore, crown prince or not.

Maybe it’s because the boat ride was so unpleasant, but the few days ride from White Harbour to Winterfell feel like nothing at all, and before Gendry knows it, he’s face to face was an actual castle.

Arya’s mood has brightened considerably when approaching the keep. She bounces in the saddle, a grin on her face, looking more and more like the energetic, inquisitive child who first appeared in the shop three years ago.

And then the gate opens, and Gendry is completely overwhelmed again.

Winterfell is nothing like the tiny glimpses he’d gotten of the Red Keep. The people within the walls bustle and move about their day with ease, and no one seems to be cowering in fear.

And then there’s the Starks themselves. He knows their names, but now they have faces attached to those names. Robb, about his age and terribly gracious. Rickon, who in a great surprise to his sister, is now up to her shoulders, and with that same wild energy Gendry had seen in Arya.  Bran, Gendry remembers hearing the story of his fall from a tower here, pale and thin, having to be pushed in a strange, wheelbarrow like contraption, by a servant. Gendry frowns at it. There must be something that could be made so he could push himself instead of having someone else do it.

And Lady Catelyn Stark herself. Physically, there’s very little resemblance to Arya in Winterfell’s Lady, and under her gaze, Gendry immediately feels like the naughty child Arya had been in the stories she’d told him, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Gendry Baratheon,” she greets him, and Gendry finds himself staring at his shoes,

“Not yet, milady,” he mumbles, fire in his veins.

Lady Catelyn smiles, and he can’t read her smile.

“Robb,” she asks her eldest, “Please get our guest dressed for dinner.”

Robb apologizes that the clothes he presents Gendry with are going to be a bit small, as Gendry is both an inch or two taller and a bit broader than him. When he examines them, Robb eyes him warily.

“How was the journey?”

Awful, boats can go to all seven hells, he wants to say, but instead.

“Just fine,”

Robb cocks his head,

“And Arya didn’t once try to push you overboard?”

“No,” Gendry says with a chuckle, “We’re friends.”

The breeches and leather doublet are finer than anything Gendry’s ever worn before, but he feels like he’s bursting out of it when Robb leads him back to the Great Hall. Arya too, it turns out, has been wrestled into a silvery gray gown edged in white fur, and for the first time, Gendry thinks she actually looks like a proper lady.

Except for the fidgeting.

“It’s too tight and too long,” she complains to him in whispers as they move to sit down. They’re too far apart to keep it up once seated. “It was Sansa’s, and I’m taller than I used to be, but she’d a damn beanpole.”

At least it’s not just him.

During the meal (roast duck in some sort of fruit sauce he doesn’t recognize but sucks down regardless. It tastes better than anything he’s ever eaten in his life) Robb stands and introduces him, making him duck his head in an attempt to avoid the stares.

Once everyone’s nearly finished, Rickon asks him if he wants to join them on a hunt the next day.

“I’ve never been hunting,” Gendry admits, “I don’t think I’d be any good at it.”

“We’ll teach you,” Rickon assures him.

Lady Catelyn smiles another of her pinched smiles.

“Robert loved to hunt. I imagine as his son, you will follow after him in many of those regards.”

Maybe she doesn’t mean anything by it, but Gendry’s insides rage. She’s just met him, she barely knows anything about him, and she’s already thinking he’s going to be just like the fat, drunken, lecherous king…

The fire within him is interrupted by something plunking in the middle of his forehead. He plucks it up, a sticky, candied nut, one that had been served with dessert. Soft snickering gives away where it came from, and Lady Catelyn is interrupted to scold her daughter.

So, with a shrug and a look in Robb’s direction, Gendry does the only natural thing to do. He picks up his spoon and uses it to fling the nut cluster right back in Arya’s direction.

[theangriestpea]

Crowned : five

Summary: Two blonde princesses, two dark-haired princes, and one plotting marquess. Lily is in love with a secret admirer. Shanna doesn’t want to ascend to the throne. Jughead wants to spend the day writing poetry. Sweet Pea would rather be out on his horse. And Reggie just wants to be king. <ao3> <masterlist>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC, Jughead Jones x OC

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: None really, mild drinking I suppose. 

A/N: Welcome to the grande finale! Part six will be an epilogue! Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this series! There is also a scene that was omitted from this part that will be made into a one-shot later. Enjoy! Graphics on this chapter at by @princesweetpea​!

Part Five: Wedding Bells

Two fair haired princesses sat in silence at the table drinking a special blend of mint and ginger tea. They had both had unsettled stomachs for a few weeks now, and it was only getting worse. Everyone around them had chalked it up to nerves before their big day. In truth, that was part of it but not the reason why they had been so ill. 

“We have to tell them.” Lily said after a sip of tea. She held the teacup gently in her hands. The fragile porcelain was shaking slightly in her grip. “It’s the right thing to do.” 

Shanna was quiet for the longest time, and Lily wondered if she even heard her. They sat in a stuffy silence for another ten minutes before she finally spoke. “You’re right. They deserve to know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Did the tea help you at all?” 

Lily shrugged, “a little. I feel slightly less like puking and more like laying catatonic on my bed until it all goes away.” 

“We’ve got a long time before that happens.” Shanna said with an unladylike groan. “Well, I know where Sweet Pea is. Always in his fucking war room. Any idea where Jughead is?” 

She bit her lip as she thought, “I’m not sure. Probably with daddy. It will look weird if I go get him. He will get suspicious…” 

“Divide and conquer then?” Shanna asked, “I’ll get my fiance, you get yours?” 

Lily nodded reluctantly. “Meet back here in ten minutes?” 

“Deal.” 

Roughly ten minutes later, the two princes had joined their future wives with a curious look in their eyes. They had noticed their strange behavior lately but they assumed it was just stress. 

The girls stared at one another, unsure if they should proceed. “Well?” Sweet Pea asked, annoyed that he had been interrupted. “I was in the middle of something important.” Shanna snorted back in response, knowing it couldn’t have been all that important since he was willing to come their little rendezvous. 

“On the count of three?” Lily asked her sister who simply nodded in response. She took a deep breath and counted slowly. 

Once of three they said in almost perfect unison, “I’m pregnant.” Before looking down at the ground, ashamed of their confession. It had been so  stupid  , so  reckless  of them to let this happen. Their wedding was in one week. Maybe, just maybe, they could get away with this without anyone finding out. After all, they were only about four or five weeks along.

The princes stared at them, Sweet Pea baffled with how this could have happened while Jughead had a broad smile slowly spread over his features. “This is great!” He exclaimed happily, clapping his hands together for emphasis. 

The other three royals stared at him with wide eyes and mouths agape. Great? How in the hell was this great? “Do tell me, brother,” Sweet Pea drawled with a grave tone, “how exactly is this  great ? We have to raise each other’s kids!” He threw his arms up in exasperation before pacing vigorously. 

Lav frowned, shuffling her feet and shifting her weight uncomfortably. She had known he’d be upset but she still wasn’t prepared for it. “You have to get rid of it.” He quickly added, looking directly at his lover with piercing brown eyes. They only softened when he saw the tears spill from her eyelids and down her cheeks. 

“Is that what you want?” She asked in a voice that shook like a leaf in a tornado. Pain made it crack with hurt. “You want me to just kill it and pretend none of this ever happened?” 

“You cannot be queen and give birth to my child!” He said, voice raised due to the intense anxiety he was feeling. “What about that don’t you understand?” 

Her eyes set ablaze as she stormed up to him and slapped him hard across the face, leaving the faint red impression of a hand print. “I understand that you’re a heartless, prick. Thank the heavens I’m not marrying  you  instead!” 

This time his eyes portrayed his own pain at her words. Something he normally steeled himself to. For a brief moment they both felt guilt. However, their anger made it quickly wash away. “No one will ever love you.” He bit back, spitting out the same phrase he told her after their first race. “Not my brother, not me, not your bastard child, no one.” 

Lily was about to jump on him herself, but Shanna stopped her. She swallowed the sob that threatened to erupt from her as she stared at him with narrow eyes, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks. Before anything else could be said, the dark prince stormed from the room, the door slamming shut in his wake. 

Jughead was in a state of shock at how cruel his brother had just been to his fiance. To the woman he had consensually impregnated with his own seed. As soon as the door slammed closed, the older girl broke down. Before she could fall to her knees, both him and Lily caught her in their arms. They looked at one another with sorrowful eyes, knowing this was a pain they could not mend. 

“Don’t listen to that asshole.” Lily said, running her hands through her sister’s golden hair. “I love you. Our babies will love you. And I’m sure Jug-” 

“I’ll love you.” Jughead said with a soft smile, “maybe not in the way that I’m supposed to, but I will still care for you always.” The words stung Lily but not as much as she thought they would. This was their cold reality. There was no going back. 

Once he was back in his precious war room, Sweet Pea broke down himself. He remained silent as hot tears flooded his eyes and he went down to his knees in front of his war table. Everything was so messed up. Him marrying Lily. Shanna carrying his child. And worst of all the immense guilt he felt from the horrible things he had said to her out of anger. His father had tried time and time again to teach him control, but it always failed him in the end. This was just too much, he couldn’t bear it. 

And worst of all he knew that she’d hate him now and would possibly never let him see the baby she refused to get rid of. A prince or princess that will forever be their dirty little secret. A boy or girl that will one day ascend the throne even though they will have no Jones blood in them. But if anyone knew the truth, the alliance could break. Shatter their peaceful lives into tiny unmendable fragments. War would rage with the kingdom of Greendale. Their happiness was a lost cause. 

But still, he had broken his own heart with the way he had acted and unfortunately, this time, he had no idea on how he’d make it better. His own bride to be was likely to loathe him as well. Essentially he had just made his home life hell for who knows how long. Their joint weddings would be next week, not even a full seven days away. They’d honeymoon and I suppose consummate but it was far more possible that the only way he would get laid from now on would be through the string of mistresses he had planned to keep. Because ultimately no one would feel like Shanna did when she was in his arms or how comforting her presence was while they were in bed together. No, he’d probably just sleep alone. 

And that night, he was alone in his room. His eyes rimmed red and inflamed from the many tears he had shed. He stared up at the blank white ceiling, wondering how things were ever going to be okay again. No one had spoken to him, no one had bothered him for the rest of the day. Even so, he got no more work done. He was far too upset to concentrate. 

Instead he had found a bottle of top shelf whiskey in the kitchen and had taken it to his bedroom to nurse solemnly. It was half gone, his mind fuzzy and somehow horny for the one he had cast away. Perfect, he needed her and he had made it so she’d never satisfy him again. Why did he always screw things up? 

There was a banging on his door and he slurred a sloppy  come in . The door opened and his brother stood, looking tired and angry and determined. Shit. Sweet Pea knew that face well. That was the face Jughead made when he was on a mission to fix something that is broken. That something was no doubt the current state of his relationship with the woman that would bare his child. 

“Are you drunk?” He asked, staring at the dark prince that appeared to be extremely disheveled. Sweet Pea hiccuped a confirmation, having no need to use actual words to affirm the state in was currently in. 

Jughead wanted to punch him. Sweet Pea had a habit of drinking copious amounts when he was upset. It was a terrible coping mechanism that he and their father shared even though they weren’t blood relatives. 

He moved closer to the bed as Sweet Pea sat up. He grabbed the bottle from his nightstand and took another chug. Jughead snatched it from him before he could finish. “Is this about what you said to Shanna earlier?” 

Sweet Pea would rather fuck a cactus then talk about this with the crown prince. He thought it was glaringly obvious as to why he was drinking. Today had been a pretty shitty day. He found out he was going to be a dad and then ruined his relationship with the child’s mother. It was beyond terrible. 

“I didn’t mean it…” He mumbled, mostly to himself. He didn’t mean it, but that didn’t stop him from saying it. The moment replayed in his head like a broken record set to haunt him for the rest of his life. There was no way he could make this up to her. 

Jughead let out an aggravated sigh. “I don’t understand why you blew up like that. It’s not that bad. Actually, I think it’s pretty great. I love kids.” 

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “You want to raise someone else’s kid?” He spat back at him, “you won’t even see yours most of the time.” 

He shrugged, “I’d rather you be a father to them than a stranger.” He answered honestly. “We both need heirs anyway. This just speeds things up.” 

Pea stared at him in an attempt to see if he was being serious or not. Did he really not see how dangerous this was? “And what if someone does a DNA test on the child? What then?” 

“I’ll be king. It won’t matter because what I say will be absolute.” Jughead replied sharply with an air of authority. “We only have to keep this a secret for six more days. Then, it won’t matter. The deal will be sealed. No harm can come to our kingdoms. So if you ever want to see your kid in the future, I suggest you go to Shanna and apologize for what you said to her.” 

“She’s not going to forgive me.” Sweet Pea said miserably. “She probably won’t even answer the door.” 

“Go try!” Jughead said, his frustration showing more and more. “Because she’s having your child whether you want her to or not! You could at least be a halfway decent person for once in  your life and mend things with her before our weddings.” 

His brother’s words hurt. They struck him deep in the chest. Maybe Jughead was right, maybe he wasn’t a decent person. Always sleeping around. Breaking hearts. Getting into fights….the bad in him seemed to outweigh the good and he suddenly wondered what she saw in him at all. 

“Fine.” Sweet Pea said in a defeated tone. He managed to stand up and wobble towards Jughead who stepped out of his way. “But if she hits me again, I’m blaming you.” 

Jughead rolled his eyes, “you deserve anything she throws at you. Now go.” He shooed his brother out and watched him stumble down the hallway towards his fiance’s room. 

Once there, he leaned against the door with all his weight, breathing heavily in an attempt to control his nerves. Doing this while intoxicated was much harder than he had thought. He offhandedly thought about going back to his bed and crying himself to sleep. That would be easier than this. 

The door suddenly opened and he toppled forward, landing face first onto the carpet. He heard a shuffle of feet and an annoyed huff. “Did you shower in whiskey or something?” Shanna asked, the smell making her want to throw up for the fifth time that day. She was exhausted from the amount of emotion she had felt that day. Too tired to put up a fight as to why Sweet Pea was drunk outside her door. 

He mumbled something into the thick carpet that she couldn’t comprehend. “I can’t hear you when your mouth is full of shag.” She said, the bitterness in her tone made him flinch. 

Sweet Pea turned his head to the side and took a deep breath, “I came to apologize…” 

Shanna resisted the urge to kick him angrily in the side. “Please, just leave.” She said in a soft, defeated voice. “I don’t want to talk to you while you’re drunk.” 

He sat up, albeit with a bit of difficulty. “Shanna, listen, I didn’t mean what I said...I was just upset, I don’t want you to get rid of the baby…” 

She huffed angrily at him, “You’re so full of shit, Sweet Pea. You’re only here because Jughead ordered you too. I’m not an idiot. Just, go sleep it off or whatever. I don’t want to see you after what you said to me. Not meaning it does not make it okay. I’m not some verbal punching bag for you to take your anger out any time you get upset.” 

He looked down at the floor and against his will, more salty tears filled his eyes. She hadn’t seen how awful he looked when she opened the door. She could barely see it now. Snot flooded his nose, causing him to sniffle to keep it from dripping out. The sound made her freeze in her tracks. 

“Are you crying…?” She asked, her voice even quieter than before, almost as if she didn’t believe it. 

Sweet Pea looked up at her once more, fresh streaks of wetness down his face. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry, I always fuck everything up. I’m not really a Jones, you know? I’m not royal. It’s not right for the queen to have a baby that’s not royalty. I’m just an abandoned mutt and you deserve better than what I could ever give you.” 

Shanna got down on her knees in front of him, reaching out with both hands to cradle her face. “I don’t care about your lineage. I never have. That doesn’t matter to me. Royalty or not. I don’t understand why you think so low of me. How did I possibly make you believe that I wouldn’t want you just because you’re not King Jones’ biological son? You are his son, Sweet Pea. Blood doesn’t always matter.” 

She wiped his tears away with her thumbs, her heart heavy from his words. “I love you.” She said for the first time out loud. While Lily and Jughead had no issue saying the three words until their lips turned blue, Shanna and Sweet Pea had not dared to utter them. “I love you and I will always love you. Even if you don’t love me back.” 

His heart twisted in its cage. “That’s not...that’s not true.” He said, meaning her last statement. “I do…” He hesitated, the words feeling so foreign in his mind. As if thinking it and saying it would cause the world to crash down around him. “I love you too.” He finally said in a low voice. He silently hoped she didn’t hear him. 

The princess leaned in and gently kissed him on the lips. It was tender and chaste, and after a second she pulled away. “Come in and close the door before someone sees you. And please, take a shower before you make me throw up.” She laughed lightly as she stood up. She outstretched her hand and he grabbed it, needing all the help he could get to stand. “Maybe it’ll sober you up a little.” 

“Oh, ha ha.” Sweet Pea said flatly before making his way into her bathroom. “Join me?” 

Shanna smiled and nodded, following up behind him and walking inside. 

  |\/\/|

 Six days past and the big day had come. The first item on the itinerary was the wedding of Shanna and Forsythe. It would take place promptly at 10 am, following a brief intermission there will be the wedding of Lilian and Nathaniel. Then the reception would follow. It was going to be a very long day. 

Prince Forsythe was at the altar in his traditional military uniform. He looked striking, as did Sweet Pea who was wearing a similar outfit next to him. The only difference was he had several more medals pinned to his breast. Adorned on both of their heads were crowns, although Jughead’s was much more elaborate compared to Sweet Pea’s modest one. 

One side was filled with the Northside Kingdom’s royal court and what little bit of royal family there was still left. The other housed the Southside Kingdom’s court and family. King and Queen Jones as well as Princess Jellybean. Even the royal hound lovingly named Hotdog was there sitting patiently. 

On the third row of the Northiside side, the Mantles sat waiting in quiet. Reggie had his evidence stockpiled against the princesses. He planned on using them to his full advantage. The pictures, the physical evidence he had gathered, it was all for this. All to usurp the Jones family. Hopefully the King would listen to him, although the duke had assured him that King Owens would have no choice but to concede. 

The music began and the wedding party slowly walked down the decorated aisle. There was but one bridesmaid and groomsman. The siblings of the bride and groom. They walked down the aisle together, Lily forcing a smile while Sweet Pea had a blank if not annoyed expression on his face.

The guests rose as the music changed to the traditional wedding march. The King appeared at the end, his eldest daughter on his arm as they walked slowly down the aisle. Small gasps at how beautiful the princess looked sounded, happy tears were already starting to be shed. 

Sweet Pea could not look away from him. His gut twisted painfully at the thought of the only woman he had ever actually loved marrying his brother. His eyes darted to her still flat stomach before going back up to her face. This wasn’t right but there was nothing he could do about it. His son or daughter would be in Jughead’s care. This seemed like a fresh kind of hell for him. Life had never been terribly easy but now it seemed a million times harder. 

Reggie’s hands twitched nervously as he fumbled with the plastic wand in his pocket. It was almost time. Almost… He did not notice Jughead’s gaze landing on him. 

The prince held his hand out for his future queen as the royal priest spoke, “who gives this woman away today on the day of her wedding?” 

“I do.” The King said with a kind smile, his eyes twinkling. Shanna gently grabbed Jughead’s hand and stepped forward to take her place at his side in front of the altar, facing him. 

The priest looked across the crowd. “Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He stated for tradition sake. Obviously no one in their right mind would object. 

All four royal teens tensed at the old line. Lily and Sweet Pea’s eyes were on the marquess as Jughead and Shanna remained staring at one another in an attempt to pretend to be having a good time. Everyone was on edge. 

And then, as if on cue, Marquess Mantle stood. “I do, father.” He stated in a booming,  arrogant voice. “I have evidence of infidelity. Trickery. And something even more sinister that has happened under the noses of the royal court.” 

King Owen’s head shot around to stare at Reggie, his eyes aflame with rage at the interruption. Certainly nothing he had was true. Certainly this was all a trick to stop the wedding. “Marquess.” He said in an authoritative tone, “show me this evidence or you were be excused from this court...permanently.” 

“Your highness, some of it may be unsuitable for the eyes of the public. There are young children here.” He added calmly. “However, I will show it to you in private if you do not take my word.” He looked to the bride and drank in the horrified expression on her face. “King Owens. Are you aware of what your daughters have been doing on the days leading up to this ceremony?” 

“They’ve been busy planning.” The King said distrustfully. “And spending time with their fiances.” 

“That is only half true.” Reggie corrected. “They have been planning, yes. However They have not been spending quality time with their betrothed. Rather, Princess Shanna has been making a bed with Prince Sweet Pea while Princess Lily was having her own affair with Prince Forsythe.” 

Shanna thought she was going to faint. Sensing this, Jughead kept a firm grip on her in case she did lose consciousness. Lily’s knees were wobbling so hard that she was visibly shaking. No. No, no, no, this was all wrong!

“And your proof?” The King asked, his face red with fury. There was no way this was true. This was impossible. A fabrication to smear the names of his daughters. 

“I have video and photographic evidence.” Reggie replied, his tone cool and smooth. He took out two objects from his pocket and showed them to the king. “As well as these. Taken from the princesses’ personal bathrooms.” In his hand were two positive pregnancy tests. 

“Not only are the princesses not virgins but they are pregnant with the other prince’s child. I’m sure a simple medical exam will find this to be true. A DNA test will confirm it once the children are born.” Reggie said, a satisfied smile on his face at his success. 

The king’s murderous gaze turned to his two girls, “Tell me. Tell me this is all some cruel joke being played on your old man.” He said, his voice rising, “tell me you did not break your vow to me!” 

Before he could continue, King Forsythe Jones the Second stood. “King Owens.” He said, an amused look on his face for what his sons had gotten themselves into. “If I may propose a solution to this predicament?” 

The Northside King looked as though he did not want to negotiate any longer. His daughters had betrayed him in the worst way possible. Their kingdom was depending on them and they just threw it all away. He wanted to scream until his lungs gave out, but he held his composure. He took a breath to try and still his raging heart. “What do you have in mind?” He asked finally. 

“Since both my sons are of royal blood, and likewise both of your daughters are of royal blood, then what does it matter who marries who? I only ask that my son is king of our united kingdoms.” FP was smiling warmly at his sons and their fiancees. “I am not so set in my ways that I can’t compromise, are you?” 

King Owens sent a heated look to his daughters, mainly Lavender who was boldly looking back at him. “Daddy, I never wanted to be queen. Please, let Lily take the throne. She will be a brilliant queen. I will stay on the Southside with Prince Nathaniel to help him with the rural provinces. This is what we both want. Will the kingdom not be happier with two rulers who truly love one another?” 

Her gaze turned to Reggie. “The Marquess would have me marry him, daddy, but the truth is. He is the one that took my virginity on my eighteenth birthday to try and steal the crown from you. The only one here deserving of punishment is him. Sneaking into our bathrooms, spying on us, all of this is unacceptable for someone of the royal court.”

Reggie opened his mouth, about to protest when she held her hand up to silence him. In that moment she looked more like a queen than she had in her entire life. “But, do not blame him, daddy. It was his father that put him up to all of this. His father that has thirsted for power although he is already corrupt with greed. If anyone should be harmed on the day of your daughters’ weddings then it should be the Duke.” 

Duke Mantle shot up from his seat, “your highness, this is absolutely ridiculous slander against-” 

King Jones started to laugh at once and all in attendance stared at him. “What’s wrong, Marty? Are you that eaten up about your bastard son being a prince? Does him potentially becoming king instead of your royal heir that you will do anything to dethrone him? You are such a vile, sad man and I agree with my future daughter-in-law. If anyone here is guilty of wrongdoing, then it is you. King Owens, for his heinous actions against both of our courts, I suggest you strip Duke Mantle of all of his titles and honors. Do with his claimed heir as you will.” 

King Owens, flabbergasted with the turn of events stared in shock at King Jones. Was he truly okay with all of this? Was the decision truly his? Shanna’s words rang in his ears painfully. “It is settled.” He said finally, looking back at the bride and groom. “Lillian, you will marry Prince Forsythe who will ascend the throne after me. Shanna, despite your show today of how great of a leader you could be, I will allow you to step down and marry Prince Nathaniel. If this is what the both of you truly want, then so be it.” 

His dark and stormy eyes met that of the Duke who had suddenly gone pale. “As for you, I hereby renounce your title as Duke of the Northside. Reginald, you may take your father’s title if you wish but he is to be banished from the kingdom. I will not allow his scheming to continue on my soil.” 

Reggie sat down slowly, in utter shock at the King’s decree. He would be duke? Then his father...He’d finally be rid of his father? A grin broke onto his face. “Thank you, your highness for your mercy.” 

King Owens nodded curtly. “Shanna, switch places with Lily. Let the wedding commence.” 

Happy tears were streaming down Lily’s face. Her waterproof makeup set in place as she joined Jughead at the altar. Without any more objections the two were wed. And then, in place of an entire second wedding, Shanna and Sweet Pea were wed on the spot next after switching places. 

No one in the kingdom had seen the dark prince smile as he had that day. It was the dawn of a new era and their happiness would reign.

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @wayward-river​, @redhairdontcare732​, @southside-vixen​, @iamaunicorn4704​, @jezzabelleserpent​

[jackslittleavery]

Locked In Love- (Zach Herron x Reader)

 Request: You and Zach hate each other but you are friends with the rest of the boys. Eventually you and Zach are left alone one way or another and realize that you have feelings for each other. But neither of you want to admit it. The rest of the boys begin to realize and try (and succeed) to get you two to admit it. I will let you take it from there.

Summary: We loathed one another’s guts. He hated me, I hated him. We despised each other. Or so we thought. 

Warnings: Definitely cursing, a quick mention of sexual activity and a rude reader and rude Zach.

Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this imagine! This was requested by @lovableherron love ya girl! And [Y/N] is a singer in this imagine.

As I alternatively rolled onto my sides for what seemed like the thirtieth time since I’ve woken up about ten minutes ago, I knead my knuckles into my closed eyes, attempting to rub the exhaustion out of my eyes. 

After a couple more seconds of procrastination against my morning necessities, I worked up the strength to throw the multiple blankets off my body, and begin my morning. Trudging my way to the bathroom, I noted that the door was locked, bringing to my attention that someone was in there. 

I gently knocked on the door and waited for a response. “I’m in here, give me a second.” I groaned in agony just hearing his voice. The voice that belonged to Zach Herron. The rudest, most disrespectful, child alive. He was extremely ill-mannered and he disgusted me. Just in case you couldn’t tell, I hated him.

I held no problems against his friends Jonah, Daniel, Jack, or even Corbyn, considering I lived with them all. But, I had so many problems with Zach.

I’ll admit we never connected from the jump, but the better I got along with the other boys, the worse our relationship turned. Every conversation I had with the boys, every time I spent the night over at the boys, was another dent engraved into our tainted alliance. So you could probably already assume that when it was time for me to move in with them, all hell broke lose.

And in case you couldn’t tell, he hated me too.

“Ugh,” I complain. “Hurry up, will ya?” I say, rolling my eyes, and making my way back to my bedroom to wait. Before my palm could completely come into contact with the door knob, I hear the bathroom door open, causing me to turn my head.

Poking his head out of the door, he squints his eyes at me before speaking. “Oh, it’s just you. Now I know to take extra long,” he smirks and closes the door behind him. “Oh, my god,” I groan, already knowing that he wasn’t kidding about taking long on purpose.

3 minutes later. 5 minutes later. 8 minutes later. 10 minutes later. 15 minutes later. Alright, now this is just ridiculous. 

I spring off of my bed and out my bedroom and power walk my way back to the bathroom that I should’ve been in a long time ago. I bang on the door, getting fed up with the selfish boy’s antics. “Dude, what are you doing, jacking off? Hurry and get out, we have to be at the studio in half an hour.” 

Right before my fist can pound the door again, it swings open revealing a fully-clothed Zach, except for his shoes. “Oh, I’m ready to go. And so are all of the other guys. You woke up a lot later than us, actually. Knowing you, you’re gonna take a million hours to get ready but don’t worry you can just take an Uber by yourself,” he smiles at me, beginning to walk away, blowing a kiss and tapping my shoulder, knowing full well it would annoy me. 

My eyes fall down to my phone, reading the time displayed on the lock screen. 12:28 p.m. I mentally applaud myself for getting ready on time, with two minutes to spare. I brush the ends of my hair out, and afterwards, walk downstairs, to retrieve my shoes to match my simple outfit.

As I slip my shoes on, I look up ahead, and notice Zach looking at me, with a slight smile sketched across his face, as a confused expression finds it’s way onto mine. As if my face flipped some switch in his mind, he quickly turns away a walks into the kitchen, where the rest of the guys were. 

You couldn’t blame me for being perplexed as to why Zach was randomly smiling at me while I doing something so simple, like putting on my shoes. But the more I think about it, the more believe that he was possibly just thinking of a good joke about me. 

Hearing my stomach growl, I settle on the idea of grabbing a quick snack before heading out. 

“Good morning,” I smile to the boys that I haven’t seen all morning. “Morning,” they say all at once, except for one person that doesn’t know manners. “Afternoon,” he says with his smart mouth, squinting his eyes at me and leaning up against the refrigerator, that I was about to look in for food.

“Can you please move from in front of the fridge, please?” I ask, trying to sound as polite as possible to avoid another petty argument. “You know, [Y/N] there’s a much shorter and politer term you could use that’s very effective for-”, he says, very sarcastically before I interrupt. “Excuse me,” I breath out, trying to rush this confrontation along. 

“Excuse me, who?” he says, planting his index finger behind his ear lobe and moving his head closer to mine. “Excuse me, Jacob.”

“Who the hell is Jacob?”

“Jacob Sartorius, please stop asking questions and just move, I’m hungry,” I say pushing him out of the way, with the rest of the four boys chuckling at my discreet insult. I grab yogurt out of the fridge before hearing Jonah call out, “Alright are we ready to go?” Once everyone responds with a “yeah”, we head outside to the car to get to the studio. 

Once I was done singing my part of the song, it was Zach’s turn to record his verse, but Daniel had other plans than to wait and listen to his band-mates recording. “Alright you two, me, Jack, Corbyn, and Jonah are gonna grab lunch. Zach, record your part while we’re gone, okay?” Daniel says, picking up his wallet from the small table in the soundproofed room. 

“What about me? I already recorded my part,” I say, silently praying that Daniel would decide to bring me along with them. “Someone has to work the soundboard while he’s in there,” he replies. 

“Why can’t Jack stay here and I go with you guys?” I pout, I really didn’t want to be left alone with the boy, it would turn into world war three. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick,” Daniel responds to me again, kissing my forehead, for a token of good luck. 

Once, the door fully closes behind the four guys that were keeping my sanity in check, Zach turns his head to me and says, “You’re cute when you’re mad, you do this thing where you scrunch up your nose, and you put your hand on your hip, as if I’m scared of your tiny ass,” he chuckles, smirking at me watching me blush from his random compliment.

“What, do you like me or something?” I say, teasing him, knowing that he didn’t but still wanting to put his buttons. He looks up at me with wide eyes, as his cheeks get rosier by the millisecond, quickly catching himself and shaking his head in denial, “Hell no.” 

I quietly giggle at his flustered reaction to my question. The way his eyes got so wide, like he had been caught in doing something wrong and the way his cheeks turn to the brightest shade of red within seconds, it was cute. Wait, did I just call Zach Herron, cute? The same Zach Herron that I couldn’t stand just a few hours ago?

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me quietly, sitting down in the seat across from me. “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head, just like he did. “What, do you like me or something?” he says, copying my words, smirking while waiting for my flustered reaction just as he had when I asked the exposing question. 

I tried to hold it back. The blushing. The wide eyes. They all came so quickly and all at once but time seemed to go in slow motion as I kept my eyes locked onto his. 

“Hell no.”

*Back at the house, late at night*

As the night seemed as though it was coming to an end, Jack got a sudden idea that could bring the day back to life. “Let’s play Truth or Dare, guys,” he says, sitting up in his seat. I normally don’t agree to playing these kinds of games because they almost always end in two strangers kissing or even worse, but I decided to play along tonight.

After everyone agrees, Jack declares that it was my turn to go first. “Alright, [Y/N], truth or dare?” 

I thought for a while before settling on being a little adventurous and choosing to go with a dare. “I dare you to go in the closet,” Jack says, with murmurs coming from the other guys in obvious confusion. “Why, what’s in the closet?” I say, getting up anyway. “Nothing’s in the closet, just trust me,” Jack responds, gently pushing me towards the tight-spaced room. 

I close the door behind me, and listen closely at what was being said in the living room a few feet ahead me. “Alright Corbyn. Truth or dare?,” Jonah asks. 

“Truth.”

“Is it true that you want a mix-tape for your birthday?”

“Of course, man.”

“Great, now I know I don’t have to spend money on you.”

I quietly chuckle along with the boys that were sitting comfortably in living room, while I was squeezed up in this closet. “Zach, it’s your turn. Truth or dare?,” Jack asks. 

“Dare.”

“Get in the closet with [Y/N].”

“Dude, are you-,” Zach protests, but gets interrupted.

“You asked for a dare, you got one, now get in the damn closet,” Jack orders. I hear footsteps approach the door, before hearing Zach turn back and say, “Your dare is gonna be much worse, Jack, you just wait.”

The door knob turns as Zach steps towards me, my heart beginning to flutter. Only twelve hours ago, I would’ve been annoyed and irritated, but I was over the moon. Just as Zach steps inside, Jack runs up behind him and shuts the closet door. I turn my head to Zach when I hear the lock on the door turn from the outside. 

Zach puts his hand on the knob and tries to turn it, but it denies him and keeps itself locked. “Jack, what the fuck?” I yell through the door, making sure he can hear me. “I’ll open the door when you two admit to each other that you like each other.“

“What are you talking about, Jack? You’re just talking crazy at this point.” Zach says, pulling at the door knob, trying to force it open. “I heard you guys at the studio earlier today. I know you like each other, so stop this fake beef you two got going on,” Jack says, as his voice gets quieter, signifying that he was walking away from the door. 

 “I mean, he’s not wrong,” Zach says, fumbling with his fingers. “I do like you, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself I guess.” He looks down at his feet and even though it’s almost pitch dark in the room I could see his cheeks getting rosy again. 

I nod my head in agreement with him and continue from where he left off, “I thought I did actually hate you, but after we were talking in the studio today, I realized I do like you.” 

 His eyes light up when he makes eye contact with me sand he says,“If I promise to stop pretending like I hate you, will you let me take you on a date?” 

“I’d love for you to take me on a date,” I smile, before hearing a muffled “aw” coming from all the guys in the living room.

[lolbtsaus]

First Day of School (Yoongi)

I wanna take a second to say another thank you for 4k bc you deserve so many thank yous and hugs and if I could give each of you a hug and say thank you, I would and I will, as always, be doing something to celebrate!! Onto the post, it is time for the first half of the Daegu line, one half of Sope, my highkey spirit animal who is looking so cute and niCe I mean he always does but the recent gayo episode oh boY that was a look i wanna see repeated, Min Yoongi aka Suga aka Agust D (also Jin graduated so congradulations to him!! I’m really happy the boys surprised him bc ik he must have been disappointed he couldn’t attend the ceremony this is why I love BTS they’re such a family)

All of the father related posts are here

For everyone that hasn’t read the original father!Yoongi post, he has one daughter, there is also a version where he has a younger son (there are a couple years between them) I’ll be using the second one so this may get kinda long

The bby Mins s o fucking cute like have you ever seen bby pictures of Yoongi he was such an adorable bby they’d have those same chubby cheeks and the gummy smiles and they’re s o tiny

They’re some of the tiniest bbys in the bunch tbh, the only ones that are shorter than them are Tae’s youngest son and the Jeon twins (but spoiler alert, once puberty happens those two shoot right on up the height chart and leave the others looking tiny)

But they’re also on the younger side of the group so they still have some time to catch up

Bby girl doesn’t really get what’s going on with the whole school thing, she knows what the idea of it is and she’s excited for it, it sounds cool she gets to learn all the things and be with her friends but she hasn’t realized that she’s not gonna be able to take Yoongi with her

This entire time, she’s been assuming he’ll come with her bc he never leaves her side they wake up together, play together, eat together then cuddle, fall asleep and repeat the process

So when he tells her that she has to go in solo, she’s just like nah never mind let’s just stay home and play and it takes him a l on g time to convince her that it’ll be okay and there are tears when she sees that he’s being serious about it and his heart breaks bc Yoongi is all tough and badass on stage but the second he hears that teeny tiny whimper and sees her eyes get all watery, he has to do e v e rything he possibly can to stop it immediately

Even when she was just a newborn and crying was her main way of communication, he would be s o fucking quick about solving whatever was wrong, you didn’t even have time to sit up and realize what was happening before Yoongi had her in his arms, he can n o t handle tears

He has to give her a really really long hug and promise that it won’t be that bad once she’s there and that he’ll pick her up and get her ice cream and give her a sticker and he’s getting so close to tearing up himself bc every single sob is just making his heart o w but thankfully she calms down after a few minutes

After a long talk about it, she starts getting a bit more excited about it bc yoon starts telling her all of the stories from his own experience and he gets you to tell yours

Bby boy’s reaction to school is the complete opposite, he’s w a y more excited than she was bc he’s been able to see her going to school and she makes it sound fun so he’s being hyped up by both her and all of the other bbys so he’s ready to gO

He is pretty sad that he can’t hang out with Yoongi all day bc bby boy is just as attached to him as bby girl is and he does tear up a bit the day before school and he goes to Yoongi’s office (he uses the spare room in the house as an office area) and silently climbs into his lap and hugs him really tightly

Yoongi gets him to cheer up a bit by letting him press some of the “shiny buttons” and feeding him some chocolate but he doesn’t let him go the rest of the night, you go into yoon’s office at midnight looking for him and you just see the two of them curled up on the couch together so you leave them be

Typical mornings with the Mins are cuddly, there’s so much cuddling going on, bbys are cuddling each other, you’re cuddling yoon he’s cuddling you and them everyone’s just warm and happy and sleepy

They let yoon sleep in a bit but at the same time, they’re two energetic toddlers who are getting hungry so they start jumping all over the bed and giving the two of you “kiss attacks” to wake you up completely and if all else fails, they’re gonna scream so it’s better to just wake up asap

Yoongi has to carry them downstairs and on the couch and get a cartoon playing before they can get back up if either of you want to be able to do anything that morning bc those two are playful af and if you let them, they’ll keep you playing with them all morning

You and Yoongi make breakfast together, some days you make it, some days he makes it but most of the time, it’s a team effort bc the quicker it’s done the better

They always end up joining you two in the kitchen though, they’re hugging your legs or wanting to see what you’re doing and you end up carrying one of them while yoon carries the other and they get to snack on some apples while they wait so their tummies aren’t totally empty bc bby boy gets really pouty when he’s hungry he just walks around with a permanent pout on his face until he gets fed

But on both of their first days, they cling onto Yoongi the entire morning, they don’t wake him up, they don’t let him put them down on the couch, they don’t let him do anything if he isn’t carrying them while he does it

He doesn’t mind at all tbh bc he’s gonna miss them so much, even if it just for a few hours bc those are his bbys, they’re his mini mes, his muses he’s never had to spend so long away from them unless it was for work and even then, he had them on face time the entire time he was gone so he could just look over and see their beautiful faces

Bby girl starts getting more excited when Yoongi starts going through her clothes with her bc it starts kicking in that she’s gonna go to school and see her best friends

Her first day outfit is super cute, it’s picked by her of course, it’s some bby jeans aka one of my favorite things to ever exist bc they’re so tiny, a shirt with a flower on it and a coat over it and one of the Mins infamous scarves with tiny bby boots

Her hair is put into a ponytail at her request and Yoongi knows that it’s gonna last about an hour but whatever she wants, she gets that’s rule number one in his book

Bby boy’s outfit is also super cute bc he’s super cute, he’s got the bby jeans as well but his are blue (her’s were gray) and he’s got a t-shirt with a lil mustache on it and then of course the bby coat and some sneakers that match Yoongi’s and the scarf bc Yoongi is that one dad that bundles his bbys up when the weather gets the tiniest bit cold

His hair is forever messy so Yoongi does try to tame it a bit by pushing it back and at least getting it out of his face

Bby girl’s got a Tom and Jerry lunchbox and a Peppa Pig backpack bc her faves, bby boy’s got a Clifford backpack with a matching Tom and Jerry lunchbox bc that’s one of the only shows that can keep their attention in the morning so they’ve grown up with it

Yoongi is drea din g the goodbye the entire car ride but both of the bbys seem to forget about it until they actually have to do it

He gives them such tight hugs and no one wants to let go first so they just sit in the middle of the hallway hugging and you have to just smile bc before bby girl was born, he told you that it was gonna be you that cried on their first day and that he would buy you some chocolate afterwards to make you feel better

But they were both s o attached to him and he was their best friend and cuddle buddy and they always ran to him whenever they were hurt or feeling ill and they’re just his entire world but now they gotta grow up and makes friends and further develop their own personalities

But the logical side doesn’t make it any easier to let them go of course so he can sit there and explain it to himself all he wants but there are still tears gathering up in his eyes while he’s fixing their bags and telling him he’ll see them soon and to have lots of fun and that they can tell him everything once he picks them up

He’s so proud of them but also he’s a bit sad bc his munchkins but then they both give him a kiss on the cheek and say ily before running off into their class with their friends

Seeing them hugging their “cousins” (all of the bbys call each other cousins) and giggling and knowing they won’t be alone makes him smile and he finally feels ready to leave

“Let’s go get some chocolates”