#twin/tone records | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintobio · 5 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing.

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort.

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him.

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you.

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.”

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?”

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.”

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.”

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.”

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.”

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.”

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses.

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.”

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point.

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free.

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.”

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over.

“Mmh… I want you.”

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise.

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds.

“Haaah!”

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.”

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?”

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.”

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you.

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.”

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more.

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange.

This was the most erotic you had been with him.

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.”

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.”

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!”

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!”

“Faster?”

“S-Sylus!”

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.”

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle.

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.”

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her.

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead.

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were.

“You shouldn’t.”

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you.

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head.

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood.

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood.

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion.

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.”

“Roger that, boss.”

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you.

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!”

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line.

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?”

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you.

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.”

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.”

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying.

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…”

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen.

Like a good girl, for him. Always.

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?”

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms.

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly.

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.”

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—”

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.”

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?”

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub.

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal.

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way.

“Caw! Caw!”

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you?

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone?

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?”

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.”

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy.

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.”

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.”

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside.

Why? Why can’t it be me?

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him.

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!”

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach.

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go?

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath.

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked.

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

SECOND PART

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus smut #sylus fic #lads smut #lads angst #lads sylus

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zhelin-thames · 8 days ago

Text

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

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ibbythebee · 1 year ago

Text

Anything

pairing: Fred Weasley x Prefect!Reader

summary: Fred would do anything to see you, 'Hogwart's strictest Prefect', loosen up.

genre: fluff 'n stuff, and only slight angst, also borderline slowburn

warnings: swearing, bullying moments, implied that reader is in Slytherin, lots of teasing, flirting, kissing, Fred is completely and utterly whipped for reader, "your highness" nickname

a/n: not me in the middle of writing a neville fic and then having a shower thought of a fred x reader and writing this instead.

words: 6.9k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

You can hear them. And you know it's them, because of the sniggering and that laugh.

By now, when you patrolled outside of class hours you'd find yourself actively seeking out these boys. Today happens to be good day to continue your spotless Prefect record.

With a hand sliding to your hip, you smoothly round the corner of the door to your Potions classroom and as you suspected, Fred and George Weasley are there, huddled over a particular cauldron. Something's clearly already been brewed and Fred is holding a cork screwed flask with the mysterious liquid.

It takes a minute until Fred happens to glance toward the door and sees you there, nose in the air and hands now clasped in front of you. He's trying not to laugh when he sees you, and elbows his brother.

The said Weasley is about to say something, but as he meets your gaze his lips press together in a slightly curved line.

Successful in catching their attention, one eyebrow and then one corner of your lips gently raise. "We've really got to stop bumping into each other like this."

"I think you wanted to bump into us," Fred says with a prominent smile. He looks innocent, just like always.

You neither confirm nor deny his remark and instead stride closer to them. You take your time, head turning in each direction, eyes scanning for any other suspicious looking activity. It feels good, because you can feel their stares and how they wait with bated breaths for your next move.

With a last step you settle on the opposite side of their table. You look at Fred, head tilted softly, studying his expression.

His smile only grows when you reach his eyes and it's finally time to address the elephant in the room.

In a newly straightened posture you say in a slow and sarcastic tone, "did you know... that I can take away points from your House? From each of you, in fact?"

"Oh, come on. Our favourite Prefect. Can't you pretend you never saw us, like last time?" George answers.

"Sorry what was that? You'd like 30 points taken away?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Fred waves with a chuckle, "let's not get hasty. What about... a-a compromise?"

George nods desperately.

Your eyebrow raises again, and you lean back, crossing your arms. "A compromise, instead of taking away your precious points?"

"Yes, we'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything." Fred glides a tongue over his bottom lip, speaking to you through his eyes.

For once he looks completely serious and it makes you smile in delight. An expression seldom found in your features. It's completely magical and Fred finds no regret to bargaining with you.

"There is something you can do for me," your eyes glaze over Fred's face and then you turn to George, leaning forward over the table on your elbows. "The next Quidditch Game."

"Yeah? Slytherin v Gryffindor. Need us to bug someone?" George grins.

You shake your head and smile again. You're frighteningly beautiful with that curve on your face as you continue. "I need you to make sure that Slytherin wins."

"What?"

Fred captures your attention, so you lean in closer to his side of the desk. "It shouldn't be too hard for you both, right?"

He squints, unable to hold back a smile of his own. In the previous times when you had caught the twins in the middle of scheming, you'd never been so coy with them. Ruffling your feathers a bit was always the boys' goal when getting caught by you, however now that you seem to be playing along, Fred can't get enough. "That's hardly something to wish for, your highness. You can have anything from us, really anything. Don't hold back."

You shrug, "well, that's what I choose."

"But if you think about it you cou—"

"I can take the points off now, if you like? It's really no problem."

"Fine. W-We'll do it." George huffs, and his brother follows with a playful bow.

"Your wish is our command."

"Please just don't take the points off. We'll be kicked out of Gryffindor if you snitch again."

"Me? Snitch?" Your voice drips in sarcastic innocence, and you push yourself off of the desk. Your feet turn to walk back outside first, but your eyes remain on Fred until it's physically impossible to stay focused on him. As you saunter to the door, you feel their gazes on you again and it's oh so satisfying to know that you get the last say. "You need to get better at not getting caught. Because, if I didn't know any better, it looks more like you want me to bump into you."

You turn around to face them again, and stare at the flask in between Fred's long fingers. By some miracle you'd never found yourself to be the butt of their schemes, unlike the other prefects. Even as a chaser of the twins' opposition in Quidditch, you've been the only lucky soul on your team to come out the other end. The question was why? Why spare you?

"Who in Salazar's name threw that?" Your captain shrieks, massaging the back of his head, small flakes of snow dropping to the skin of his neck.

How bothersome, you think, looking around at the rest of your teammates who're busy cooling down after Quidditch training.

"What?! A snowball just happens to gain sentience and hit me, huh? An owl maybe? Just come forward, admit you did it and I'll go easy on you—"

The spray of snow flies off of the captain's head again and you dodge the icy substance in time, some of it landing on your beater and chaser teammate. Everyone exclaims except you, you're too busy scanning over the field.

Suddenly, the burly boy of a captain huffs toward you, and you take a shove to the shoulder.

Stumbling back by a metre, you frown. Increasingly annoyed by your captain's baseless judgements. "What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you I'm a prefect?"

"I know a guilty person when I see one."

You're about to give him a piece of your mind until the idiot is hit again and you stifle a laugh at the noise he makes.

"Clever," he says through gritted teeth. Despite clearly looking at you just seconds before the snowball made contact with his thick skull, his pride is still hell-bent on accusing you. "I knew you were good at school, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low to use non-verball spells for something so stupid."

"Well, I knew you were delusional before, but now it's perfectly clear that you just don't have a brain."

As though your words were a signal, a tsunami of white ice balls appear in the sky and you don't hold back your smile as it pauses over your team. They each look up, faces with panicked expressions, and before they can even begin to escape, the snow crashes down over your peers. Figuring, it's the perfect moment to leave, you zoom out of the field on your broom and land to your feet once you can't see those angry faces anymore.

And that's when you hear him. That laugh, and he's looking at you and combing a hand through his ginger hair, all whilst adorning a satisfied ear-to-ear grin.

"Thanks." Is all you can say at first, then you realise his partner-in-crime George isn't right by his side. "Where's your brother?"

"On the other end of the field."

You nod. When you don't say anything more and turn to leave, you feel long fingers wrap around your wrist. He's warm against your icy skin, and your eyes shoot up, only to be greeted by a soft smirk.

"You're not going to snitch on us are you, your highness?"

"Me? Snitch?" You stop yourself from feeling so giddy about the previous event and instead focus on the fact that would you be doing your prefectoral duties correctly, you would have absolutely told a Professor about the twins. But the adrenaline rush feels too great and so you finally shake your head at the tall ginger. "You were just... watching us practice, right? I don't see anything suspicious about that."

His smirk twists into a genuine smile, and he allows your wrist to slide out of his grasp. A twinkle of mischievousness reaches your eyes, and then you're off, jogging into the distance. A few metres in, you take a chance to glance back to where you left Fred. And you don't know whether it was from training or the adrenaline, but you feel your neck and cheeks flare with heat at the sight of him lean against the frame of the entrance, steadily watching you run.

Clearing your throat, you push your recollection of the past away and take out your wand.

“You know you’re not allowed to use spells outside of class, your highness,” says Fred, his voice playful.

“That’s okay,” you shrug, “because I know you won’t tell on me.”

“Are you quite sure about that?” George chimes.

You nod immediately, the easiest question to answer. “I’m your favourite prefect, am I not?”

Fred’s expression is unreadable to you at first as he shakes his head slowly. He looks shocked, but at the same time pleased and a hint of something else that you can’t quite grasp.

Figuring you’ve stared at him long enough you send the twins’ a wink and the door shuts with a swipe of your wand.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Your robe is floating behind you, a spitting image of Professor Snape, as you walk with purpose to your class, books cradled in your arms and head held high. You round a corner of the halls smoothly and find yourself at your Potions classroom. It's been a week since finding the Weasleys in there, and you still haven't found out what concoction they had created.

In any case, your class has already begun, and Snape's voice is barely audible with the door in front of you. You let your fingers clench around your books for a moment, taking in a breath. Then you push your way in, and each one of your classmates turn their attention to you.

"How lovely of you to join us, Miss L/N."

Having already predicted the Professor's sarcasm-filled reaction to your tardiness, you hand out a small slip of paper. "A note from Professor McGonagall."

He barely skims over the words and indicates for you to find a seat. Fingers clenching around your books again, you let yourself look over your peers. There's a seat next to Ginger Jorkins from Hufflepuff, but after noticing your stare she's quick to put her belongings where you could have sat. You hold off from sighing, because to your relief there is one more free seat, all the way at the back of the room. Right beside the vacant spot is a familiar head of red hair, and the pain from your tight grip subsides upon seeing him. That sigh you've been holding lets free once you sit down and the class continues.

"Welcome to the back of the class," Fred whispers with his signature grin. "You're with the cool kids now."

"Speaking of..." You glance behind him and frown. "Where's your brother?"

He makes a face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." And then it hits you. The Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch Game. The compromise. The "make-sure-that-Slytherin-wins" game. The "George-has-been-completely-annihilated-by-a-bludger" and "won't-be-walking-around-anytime-soon" game.

"Oh... right."

Fred simply nods, finding the way you froze for a moment to be equally funny and endearing. The rest of your face doesn't show it, but he notices the panic in your pretty eyes and gives your arm a little nudge. "Hey. The git's okay. Says it was worth the pain because the girl he fancies paid him a visit."

You bite your lip and let yourself focus on Snape, who's mouth is moving, but you can't hear anything coming out. "It's still technically my fault. He looked awful."

Fred leans forward, his head turning to rest against his crossed arms. He studies your features as you attempt to listen into the class. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper again. "Come to Hogsmeade with me."

You give him a side glance. No one's ever invited you to come before and for all you know he could be making fun of you. It'd been hard in the beginning, though you eventually found comfort being in your own presence; drinking butterbeer while other people joked and laughed and shared stories and the gossip of the week. And talked about how they received a pointless detention after being told off from that know-it-all bitch.

"I-I don't..." You stumble upon your words, the crease between your brows growing deeper as you try to recollect your thoughts.

"Yeah, you're coming," he declares. And when you go to protest, he sits back up, sending you a wink.

"AND so..." Snape glares in your direction, "by the end of this class, I will be testing the quality of your potions by using a simple leaf. If it melts you've brewed successfully, and if not... you'll be in here on the weekend till you get it right."

To your surprise, Fred doesn't make a fuss, instead he beams at you with a clap of his hands. "Let's get started then, shall we Professor?"

The said man only grunts in response, so you all begin.

Forty minutes passes by in an instant, and no matter how well you follow the recipe, the liquid in your cauldron doesn't look like a liquid anymore and it smells differently to Fred's.

Wait. Fred's?

You frown down into his cauldron. His potion's immaculate.

You pull at the sleeve of his robe till his head comes down and his long hair tickles the tip of your nose. "How are you doing this?"

"I'm smart when I want to be," he chuckles.

"That's not an answer. I demand you give me an answer, or... I will take off points from Gryffindor."

He feigns an expression of shock which immediately gives way to a smirk, face just a few inches away from yours. "And what if I do tell you? You promise not to snitch?"

"Me? Snitch?"

That mischievousness is back into your dolomitic eyes, and Fred swears that the potion isn't required to melt the leaf.

"How about a compromise?" you whisper.

He shoots a glance toward the Professor and then hums when he feels it's all clear to keep talking. "I'm listening."

"I come with you to Hogsmeade, and I promise to do whatever you want to do. Deal?"

He doesn't need a moment, or even a second to reply. He's already nodding, slipping a hand into yours. "Deal."

You share a knowing look and shake your intwined hands. Compromise confirmed. "Now—"

Before you get to finish, he pulls out a very familiar cork-screwed flask, and in perfect fashion you keep from gasping or reacting at all, but Fred can see it in your eyes. He scans over the classroom, Snape's busy writing something on the board, and so he's clear to lower his head to you.

Your fingers graze as he passes you the concoction he had made with his brother. Electricity runs through the veins of your fingers till it hits your heart, skipping a beat.

"Someone might've tipped us off about this assignment," Fred murmurs. "So, naturally, we just wanted to be prepared. There was no way we were going to miss out on a Hogsmeade visit."

Not with George in the Hospital Wing, you think to yourself with guilt, pulling your robe sleeve down to hide the flask should your Professor stop by.

"Well... my beloved brother sadly will. I'll never forget his bravery." Fred makes a show out of a simple sigh and you feel like slapping his arm. He places his hand over his chest and sighs again, only it's a little louder this time and longer. "A girl we know threatened us to rig the Quidditch game so that Slytherin would win, if we didn't do as she asked she would've gotten us into trouble—"

"Fred." Images of the poor Weasley twin with a whole half of his body covered in the sickening colour of a bruise flood your brain.

"—and being the good man that he is, Georgie sacrificed himself, in order to satisfy the needs of this girl."

"Oi! I already feel horrible, okay?" You finally give his arm that well-earned smack, and when all he does is laugh, you huff with a pout.

He recollects himself, and makes sure Snape's still preoccupied. He bends down to your level again, and his breath fans over the strands of hair by your ear. "I would do the same for this girl."

There's that heat in your neck again and yet another electric feeling runs up your spine at his worlds. You don't meet his gaze and instead stare forward. To save yourself from embarrassment, you lift your chin and with one swift movement, the liquid from the flask falls into your cauldron.

Fred watches in delight as you stir until your previously horrible creation morphs and dissolves into that flawless fluid that you had just seen in the Weasley's cauldron. From such a result, you're unable to stop yourself as your lips curl into a smile, parting slowly to reveal your teeth.

You are the embodiment of this potion. Any person or creature of the magical world would completely disarm at the sight of your expression. And Fred's lucky enough to be your first victim.

"You seem very pleased, Miss L/N."

The black figure of Snape shadows yours and Fred's vision as he glides in front of your desk. He peers into your cauldron, nothing shows on his face and then he's examining Fred's, the same reaction of nothing.

The man then clicks his tongue and floats back to the front of the classroom, picking two leaves off of the plant on his desk. He returns swiftly, gesturing the rest of the class to join him by your table.

"Look closely." Snape says as his hand hovers over your creation, and then his fingers let go of the green object.

Hushed breaths watch as it hits the surface of the liquid with a ripple. There's no reaction at first and it fills you with dread. You even see Fred stiffen in the corner of your sight.

Then the leaf twitches with a change in colour, and soon it's no where to be seen, dissolved. Successful.

Someone mutters a 'wow', others share glances of contempt or roll their eyes. You on the other hand feel relieved and lean onto your hip, arm brushing against the tall boy beside you. He relaxes at your gentle touch.

"It seems you will have the fortune of freedom this weekend." Professor Snape mutters, and then with no time to waste, moves on to Fred. You barely have a chance to thank the man. His hand hovers, fingers open and a new leaf falls.

In a blink, the leaf has melted and you feel the Weasley straighten up in pride.

Snape however, isn't convinced and folds his arms. "How convenient that you should produce a successful potion - out of many failures - when seated beside Miss L/N."

Innocent until proven guilty, you think and look up at Fred, who's only smiling like a fool, his focused trained on Snape's. Your classmates murmur, and it isn't hard to place who they're talking about with their not-so subtle glares pointed in your direction.

"So I did a good job?" The boy's happy expression grows with innocence.

"Somehow. Five points... to each of you." The raven-haired man admits, his gaze lingers on the Weasley before he turns away, addressing you both and the rest of the class. "L/N and Weasley, seeing as you have completed the task, you may be dismissed. However, by next class I expect a 2,000 word written report of your method and findings. That'll be all. The rest of you... you have fifteen minutes."

Groans and curses hidden under breaths echo through the room, you and Fred, however, turn to each other with eyebrows raised and stupid grins plastered over your faces.

Adrenaline kicks in, and you both scramble to clear up the desk and snatch up your belongings. You sprint out the door not after sending the Professor a 'thank you', and then you're out the door and sprinting into the courtyard, crisp winter air nipping at your extremities.

You pause by the fountain, leaning against the tall structure and Fred follows suit, situating himself in front of you. "I can't believe I did that," you say in a breathless tone still grinning, books hugging into your chest.

He chuckles in between his own pants of breath. "Feels good doesn't it, your highness?"

"I hate to admit but... yes."

You watch as his gaze on you softens, as well as his grin subduing into contentment. "You make a good partner-in-crime. I think I might just replace George."

"Then he will surely kill me once he's recovered! That is... if he doesn't already."

Fred winks, "I'll make sure that won't happen. A princess such as yourself deserves a knight-in-shining armour."

"Oh yes." You give a curtsy and wave of your hand, your voice forming a posh accent. Well, no more posh than you already sound. "Then will you do the honour of escorting me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

With a fist to his chest, Fred bows. "For you, my dear, anything."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

It's irregular of you to be so fashionably late. Last night you'd found yourself restless, thoughts of sleep hidden behind scenes of you and Fred eating candy together, laughing, using magic outside of class to throw snowballs at your Quidditch Captain. Despite the chill of a winter night, being covered by your duvet and blankets was suffocatingly warm, especially when you kept seeing Fred pull you behind a tree, gloved hands drawing you into him by your hips, noses barely touching and lips parted with warm butterbeered breaths.

Your chocolate-brown screech owl whinnies by the foot of your bed and you flinch, adjusting your beanie for the hundredth time. "What do you think, Prim? Do I look tired? I look tired, don't I?"

The owl blinks and gives another whinny, a sound similar to that of a miniature pony. You check the clock on the wall of your dormitory and bite your lip, jostling through your belongings and retrieving a small purse of galleons to shove into your coat pocket.

One more look in the mirror, just one more. Your hair looks surprising lovely, strands of it squished against your thick scarf, and fortunately covering areas of your blemished face that couldn't be covered enough by your concealer. "It'll have to do!"

Prim purrs when you stroke her head and then you're off. You almost trip at the bottom of the stairs and as a result you pause, taking in a breath, calming the pounding in your chest. This Hogsmeade visit is just like any other. Just like any other. You’re just… not alone this time. That’s enough to get you smiling, as you saunter through the halls and finally out the gates, where you see a few groups of students still hanging around Hogwarts.

At the top of the steps you crane your neck in an attempts to find Fred amongst the small groups.

“I was beginning to think you stood me up.”

You spin on your heels at the sound of his voice, and are greeted with a growing grin. Teeth sparkling and everything. It takes a toll on you not to tackle him in a hug right then and there. The thick hoody he’s adorning, as well as the adorable beanie all look extra cuddly. Those gloved hands that you’ve been thinking about slide out of the pockets of his jeans and reach for your scarf, gently tightening the fabric around your face and neck.

On the outside you seem unbothered by his action, but he already sees what you’re really feeling through those dolomitic eyes of yours. “A deal’s a deal,” you finally say. “But it was rude of me to keep you waiting so long, so I’ll buy you a butterbeer.”

He shakes his head, fiddling with the hem of the scarf. “You turning up is enough for me.”

You shake your head back, dipping your chin into the material to hide your smile. “I’m buying you one. Argument over.”

“Alright then.” He chuckles and gives your scarf a gentle tug. “No more time to waste, your highness, let’s go.”

“Lead the way, Sir Weasley.”

You’re perfectly giddy as you trudge your way to the little village. Fred tells you about his plans for Christmas and you tell him yours, not very big and not very exciting, but he adores listening to you speak. He tells you about George and his recovery, and teases you when he sees guilt written over your face. Then despite your many differences, you both bond over your love for Quidditch, especially the Irish team. Occasionally, your shoulders and arms graze, and other times your fingers, as you stomp through the snow covered grounds. With every touch your chest grows warm, and your belly flips. You almost forget that you should be looking out for any bad behaviour. You almost forget that you still have a duty to uphold to the school.

Hogsmeade is bustling with life when you finally arrive. More so now that you could share it with someone.

“Come on, let’s warm up first.” Fred tugs your scarf again and successfully gains your full attention. He pulls you into the Three Broomsticks, greeted immediately by a wave of warmth. He’s still pulling on your scarf so you swiftly ask for two hot butterbeers and allow him to lead you to a table at the far end of the room.

“Am I your pet? Leading me around like that.” You sit down opposite him, motioning to his hand still holding onto the end of the long material.

He hums for a moment, and doesn't look to have any intention of letting go. “More like restraining you from going into ‘prefect’ mode.”

"Hey! Some people need disciplining," you pout.

"You sound like a Professor..." he narrows his eyes at you, lacking the skills to stop smiling so big. "You're not Professor Snape using Polyjuice potion, are you? Trying to figure out my secrets for passing your class, huh?"

Slowly, meticulously you straighten your back and fold your hands over the table, and void any emotion on your face. Your voice is low and slow and articulating every syllable as you speak. "What a ri-di-cu-lous suggestion. However... while we are on the topic, you didn't... copy off me, did you?"

Fred is so bad at suppressing his smirk. "Bloody Norah, you found me out! You're so smart, Profess— I mean... your highness."

The clink of glass hitting your table interrupts yours and Fred's thoughts. Madam Rosmerta's standing over you and when you meet her gaze she winks. "Good to see you with company this time around, Y/N."

Your face squishes into the fabric that Fred's still holding onto as you feel heat rise in your cheeks. Desperate to eliminate the fact that she basically just called you a loner in front of him, you fish into your pocket and pull out some coins, placing them onto the woman's open palm. "Thank you, Madam Rosmerta."

"Pleasure, dears. Enjoy.” Another wink is sent your way and she’s off to tend the rest of her pub.

As you bring the hot beverage to your mouth, you peek through your eyelashes. Fred has removed one glove and is now using that bare hand hold onto his drink, allowing the warmth to transfer into his already warm skin.

"Thank you," he says.

Your brows press together, "what for?"

"For paying."

"Well... thank you too."

He raises an eyebrow as he takes a good sip of the butterbeer, waiting for you to elaborate.

"For inviting me," you say shyly, fingers sliding across the surface of the mug.

"Awh, that's nothing," he chuckles, gently swaying your scarf.

"It's not 'nothing'. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night because I was so excited to come with you."

The ginger-haired boy presses his lips together tightly and then leans his face closer to you. "Wait, really?!"

How many times has it been now that you've felt your face heat up around Fred? You could play so coy and confident before, but now you felt like any other girl-with-a-crush in your year. "As a matter of fact, yes." You raise your chin and attempt to sit up straighter. "I know it may seem that I only agreed to come because of a compromise, but... I really did — do — appreciate you considering me."

"I don't think we'll need to stop by Honeydukes, your highness. You're so sweet, that my teeth already ache."

"You're so...!" You smack his arm.

But he's grinning like a fool, pulling at your scarf. "I'm so what?"

"I'm gonna take points off Gryffindor, just because you asked."

He guffaws, "what is this abuse of power?"

You take a swig of butterbeer and shrug, head high and smirk on display. "I like to call them perks."

"See?" You feel on your neck as he gives a tug-tug. "This is why you need to be kept on a lead."

Before you can retort, you notice he's pointing at his upper-lip and quietly chuckling. It sets off your heart.

"Brilliant moustache you got there," he says.

"Oh... thank you." How embarrassing. You really thought he was suggesting something else for a moment there. You glance around the room to make sure no one's watching before you slide a tongue over the sweet foam above your lip. "Is it gone?"

"Just..." at first there's a second of hesitation, but then he pulls you in over the table and meets you half-way, un-gloved hand coming up to cup your face. Why is he always so warm? Why is it that one of the most notorious rule-breakers of the school is taking your fancy? And so easily at that.

It feels like an hour passes when his thumb smooths over the left corner of your mouth and you hold in a breath, fingers clenched around your mug. You simply cannot help the urge to look at his own lips; pretty, pink and gently parted, calm breaths passing through.

His movements pause all of a sudden, so you glance at his eyes, but he's already looking at you. Completely under your spell, completely forgetting how to move, and completely forgetting that you're in public. You seem to have forgotten the same, still not pulling away from his touch. He catches your eyes dip to his lips again and he swallows thickly.

Then he's moving away and sitting back down, clearing his throat. "There, now you're good."

"Thanks," you wipe a finger over for extra measure and then look out the window, clearing your throat and straightening your back.

"You know how you mentioned that part of the deal was that we'd do anything I want to do?" He inquires, finishing his drink with a last swig.

"Yeah. A deal is a deal," you answer, finally turning back to him, surprised to see a confident smile carved into his features.

"Perfect. There's something I want to show you, but first I have a really good idea to help you unwind and forget about your prefect-ness."

"That doesn't sound good," you tease, chugging the last bit of your own butterbeer.

He's smirking now, "you won't be saying that when you see what we'll be doing."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

You're both crouched behind a boulder that oversees the Shrieking Shack in the distance. The perfect spot to spy on anyone who visits the lookout point. The perfect spot to snog outside of school walls. And it also happens to be the perfect spot to stock up on snowballs and wait for one particular person to fall into your trap.

"I hate to admit, but you were right, Sir Weasley. Again," you mutter, rubbing your gloved hands together.

"The more you hang out with me, the more you'll find out just how right I always am." He peeks over the boulder for a moment and then his hand shoots up in alarm, speaking in barely a whisper, "he's here."

He is. You can hear your Quidditch captain now and a few of his buddies, chatting and laughing. Someone puts on a voice, and it makes the group howl, but makes your stomach churn. The closer they get to the lookout, the clearer their words sound and the more you're looking forward to breaking the rules.

"—thinks she's all that, just 'cause she's a prefect. Like, bitch, I'm older than you!"

Their laughter is equal to that of nails on a chalkboard. Pelting them with some snowballs might not be fulfilling enough.

"Nah, it's 'cause she's got Snape behind her, hah. Thinks she can say and do whatever she wants."

Fred is hearing all of this. You feel like screaming, and perhaps hexing the hell out of all of them. They need a proper disciplining.

"Yeah, that's probably what's happening!" The group laugh again, and the next thing they say is the last straw. "She only got prefect because she's fucking him."

The bottom of your vision is blurry, but you tell Fred you're ready and he only nods. You both raise your wands, and he counts to three.

One snowball hits the back of the captain's head and to your satisfaction he lands on his face. You and Fred are enjoying the scene a little too much that it isn't until one of the idiots shout your name, do you realise you've blown your cover.

"Shoot!"

"Quick! We need to unleash all we've got!" Fred takes your free hand and guides you up to stand beside him. "One, two, THREE!"

Adrenaline shoots through your veins, as together you swish your wands and the rest of your snow pile is sent into the air. One more flick of the wands, and the balls fly with the speed of a snitch. Straight toward their faces. Exclamations, grunts, yells echo through the woods and open winter air. They swipe at their faces and eyes, blinded by your attack. The captain's still trying to recover from the first hit, from head to toe the entire front half of him is covered in white.

You let out a laugh, and suddenly Fred takes your hand again and you're sprinting away from the crime scene.

"HEY!" The Quidditch captain shouts after you, pure rage in his tone.

But you couldn't care less, because that grin on the Weasley's face is too contagious as you run by him, gloved hand in gloved hand.

He peeks over his shoulder to meet your gaze, only resulting in a skip of his heart and a flip of his stomach. Losing that Quidditch match was absolutely worth it, and Fred had to remind himself to thank George later for taking the blow.

You share breathless laughter as the shouts increase in amount, but decrease in volume. You're both much too fast for them and manage to get back to the village where you could hide within the crowds.

Your feet slow to a walk, and you both check if any of the idiots followed. Fred spots two pass by a tree and squeezes your hand to gain your attention.

"In here," he jerks his head, and pulls you into a small alley between two buildings.

Finally having a moment to catch your breath, you realise that it isn't really an alley, and more like a small gap. The space is so narrow in fact that your body is essentially pressed up against his. Back against wall. Heaving chest against heaving chest. Feet and legs side-by-side each other as though woven.

You don't care to look to your left where those jerks could be looking for you. You simply can't. You can't because all you can see are Fred's parted lips again, and he's looking down at yours. After which, your gazes meet and you don't think you've ever felt so hot in the middle of winter before.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes. No grin, no smirk, no teasing, just facts.

"And you're..." Your eyes dip again.

His hand slides out of yours, and then you feel weight by your hips and he's squeezing against the material of your pants and sweater.

You crane your neck, and he dips his head, as those gloved hands of his pull you into him.

Your own hunger has your fingers smooth over his chest and grip the collar of his hoody, desperately tugging for him to come closer and closer, tension in the air building with each breath.

"And I'm... what?" He purrs.

Something stirs in the bottom of your abdomen as the scent of butterbeer fills your senses, just millimetres away now. And then he captures your lips. And it's like heaven, because his hands can't help but slide up under your sweater and hold you by the skin of your waist.

At first the kiss is gentle, hesitant, but then you open your mouth a little wider and Fred takes this as a clear invitation. He smooths a tongue over yours, the taste of the sweet foamy drink still lingering on your lips.

His bold action elicits a hum from you, and his grip only tightens, craving more and more of you and your pretty sounds. You go until you can't breathe, mouths parting reluctantly but eyes still closed.

Fred presses his forehead against yours, your noses brushing in a feather-like touch. His thumbs caress your sides as he whispers, "you never answered my question."

"You wanna know what you are, right?” You murmur, hands sliding down over his collarbone and resting on his chest.

“Yeah. You’ve said it twice now and never finished your sentence.”

“Okay,” you lean in, lips feathering over his. “You’re…”

Good Godric you’re addicting. He pushes his head forward to meet you, but you pull back with the most attractive breathy laugh he's ever heard. Your lips stay brushing against his, but you won't give him any more than that and he loves it.

"You're..." you say again on his mouth, and he hangs on every single one of your words. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me at Hogwarts."

He watches your eyes for a moment, and leans into you once more, hands climbing up to lay flat against your back, your sweater pooling by his wrists. And you share the softest kiss ever, full of adoration, full of care, full of absolute affection.

"You saying that, you being here right now... feels like I've just won the Quidditch cup," he says when you part.

"I really mean it, Fred." You wrap your arms around his middle and squeeze him there, cheek squishing into his chest. "You've heard how people talk about me, but you don't seem to care about any of that stuff."

He returns your gesture, his own cheek landing on the top of your head. "You're right. I don't care about it, because I've seen how much you care for the school and care for keeping things in order. A little too much, but to each their own."

"Oi."

"I have to tease, I have to. Still, joking aside, if anyone says that kind of shit about you and you hear about it, find me and tell me. Me and Georgie have your back."

"Just don't get caught," you smirk.

"You won't take points away if you catch us, will you?"

You pull away from the cuddle and send him that beautifully, intimidating smile of yours. "Not if you promise to keep losing your Quidditch games."

"Low blow, your highness!" He laughs and then you're running away, giggling like a fool.

You manage to slip through the crowds and head toward the woods by the Shrieking Shack lookout, your giggles only getting louder and more frequent when you see Fred bounding closer and closer to you. Your cadence slows when the ground starts to feel icy under your boots, and sooner than you think, you feel arms wrap around your stomach and you squeal.

Fred's laugh vibrates against your back, and after a few pants of breath he speaks into your ear. "There's still something I wanted to show you."

"Oh?" You spin around in his hold. "That's right. What is it then?"

"Surprise. Follow me." He's hasty in his movements, as he takes your hand, running further into the woods. Then he rounds the corner of a large tree trunk, his fingers slip out of yours as he twists around to face you and then he's pulling you by your hips, grin on display.

Your heart flips when your back meets with the rough surface of the tree, bodies pressing into one another and then his mouth is hovering over yours. There's hunger in his eyes, yet he's waiting for your next move.

"Wow. 'I have something to show you'. That was so corny," you tease in a whisper.

He chuckles, feeling your lips just barely touch his, "but you loved it."

"I did. You're right again, Sir Weasley."

"Always am, your highness."

He squeezes your hips. You lift your chin and you kiss for a third time that day.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x y/n

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lewisvinga · 10 months ago

Text

truly mothering | max verstappen x fem! reader

summary; news about y/n mysteriously retiring from mercedes shocked the f1 world in the middle of the 2020 season. what shocked them even more was when she appeared on the paddock four years later…

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested ! mix of smau + written ! also one of the tweets was supposed to say 2017-2020 instead of 2016-2020 lol

word count; 700

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Arabella, Angelina! Wait up!” Y/n exclaims as the nearly 4-year-olds run towards a familiar man clad in skinny jeans and a Red Bull shirt. She ignored the cameras on her and recorded as she ran across the paddock with heels to chase after her twin daughters.

“Papa!” The eldest of the two, Arabella, exclaims when she sees her father surrounded by a group of other drivers.

“Bella! Angel!” Max loudly exclaims, stepping back from the conversation to crouch down to the level of his daughters. Arabella wrapped her arms around him and Angelina quickly followed. The Dutch driver kissed their rosy cheeks as they giggled at their father's actions.

“You both look very pretty.” He said, pulling away for a moment.

“Mama dress us,” Angelina said in a softer voice compared to Arabella’s shout.

Y/n appeared moments later and was clearly out of breath from chasing the two. “Your daughters don’t listen, Verstappen. I cannot chase after them in heels.” She said out of breath, not noticing the shocked yet happy looks from the drivers.

“Oh my goodness, is that Arabella and Angelina?”

A familiar voice caused the two blonde girls to look up. “Uncle Lew!” The youngest, Angelina, exclaimed as she escaped from her father's grasp to hug the Mercedes driver.

Lewis was quick to scoop her up into his arms as Arabella also gave him a tight hug. He was Angelina’s favorite uncle, but Arabella’s favorite was actually his future teammate.

“Wow, you two are getting big!” Charles exclaimed, picking up Arabella who let out a laugh. “How old are you girls now?”

“Almost four!” The eldest replied as she held up her 4 fingers.

“Wow, Y/n, I’m surprised you actually came,” Lando said with a chuckle as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

They all knew the truth of why she retired. It was because she was 3 months pregnant with twins. Although she kept it a secret from the public, she was always close with the grid hence why they weren’t shocked about the twins but more so shocked that she’s back on the paddock.

“About time the twins know the paddock,” Y/n replied with a smile, watching the twins chat with their favorite uncles. “Plus, it’s nice to be back. It’s been ages. The girls should also know how cool their mama was.”

“Was? She still is.” Max corrected her.

“Yeah, but Mama doesn’t race anymore.”

“Mama drive with you?” Angelina asked Lewis. He let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling as he glanced at Y/n.

“Yeah, and she was a great teammate. But be careful, Y/n, Toto might convince you to replace me.”

His words caused her to laugh as she shook her head. “Gee, no thanks. These girls are tough to handle on their own. I don’t know if I could handle racing on top of that.” She sighs, reaching over to fix Angelina’s messy blonde curls.

“These babies? Difficult? Angelina and Arabella are angels!” Charles said in an exaggerated tone as he squeezed Arabella tightly.

Y/n leans in close to Charles and glances at Max, “Between you and me, they take after their father.”

“Hey!” The Dutch driver exclaimed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means go get ready for the race.”

At the reminder of the race, Lewis and Charles set the twins down and quickly said goodbye to also prepare. The rest of the drivers soon followed leaving the family of 4 alone.

Max turned to the smiley twins who stared at their favorite uncles walk away. His eyebrows furrowed up as he looked at Y/n who just let out a chuckle while shaking her head.

He focused back on the twins and crouched down again. “How about a hug and a kiss for your papa?” He suggested. The twins didn’t have to be told twice and were quick to run back into their fathers arms, each giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Papa, you win okay?” Arabella demanded as Angelina nodded in agreement. Max laughs, giving his daughters one last tight squeeze.

“If I win for you both and for Mama, we can have ice cream for dinner. How does that sound?”

His deal caused the two girls to cheer in excitement as Y/n sighed again. “You’re dealing with their sugar rush, Verstappen.”

“Not if I’m a race winner!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and others !

yourusername: the girls loved seeing their papa win! ( but they loved seeing their favorite uncles more! ) congratulations on another win, my love! we’re all proud💗

tagged; maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: i don’t like how they were looking at lewis and charles….

yourusername: they take after their father! they like pretty drivers 😁 especially angelina, she is team merc like her mama🙈

maxverstappen1: team merc? she’s all yours!

username: tears the twins are just like me fr

maxverstappen1: i love you❤️liked by yourusername !

username: MOTHER RETURNED AND SHE’S A FR MOTHER??

username: SHES BACKKK

username: she looks so good as a mom🥰🥰

username: SHE WAS DATING MAX THIS WHOLEEEE TIME??

username: bye so the baby f1 rumor was true except it was twins and w MAX???

carmenmmundt: such sweethearts 🥹🥹

francisca.cgomes: i know! such cuties💗

yourusername: ugh they love their auntie carmen & kika! they keep asking about you both😅💓

username: stoppp you guys rmbr when she said her biggest dream was becoming a mother 🥹🥹🥹

username: in her merc days💔💔 i love seeing her dream come true 🙁

lewishamilton: best part of this weekend was seeing the coolest gals on the paddock😎

yourusername: angelina won’t take her 44 merc hat off!!

charles_leclerc: my favorite verstappen are the twins

maxverstappen1: woah now….

yourusername: ( arabella is secretly team ferrari )

maxverstappen1: WHAT

username:will i get over this? no!

username: i am SHOCKED

username: from her party girl rookie era to being a mother, wow i love y/n🥹

mercedesamgf1: we miss the princess of the paddock!🩵

yourusername: and i miss my merc crew🤍

redbullracing: welcome arabella and angelina to the red bull crew! ❤️ liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1 !

username: in her birkin mom era

username: mother truly is mothering 😩😩

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagine

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scottiexmariee · 2 months ago

Note

Hi~ ok so I have a request for a LAD headcannon. One where u wanna learn a new dance trend thats lowkey pretty spicy and if the boys reject then u say ur gonna go ask someone else (preferably someone they know like Greyson. Jeremiah, Thomas, one of the twins). Thank u so so so much and take all the time in the world

LADS Boys vs. Spicy Tiktok Trend

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Summary: How the boys would react to you threatening to ask someone else to assist with a spicy TikTok trend

Warnings: NSFW. MINORS DNI. Suggestive Content, (Implied Smut), Potential Lumiere spoiler if you aren’t familiar with lore

Wordcount: 2.7k

Masterlist

Note: I had way too much fun with this prompt. This is my own interpretation, so I hope this is what you wanted <3

“Well? What do you think?” You asked, studying Xavier’s face as the video you were showing him looped for the third time. He was next to you on the couch, studying your phone as if it were a foreign object, unable to form a coherent thought about what you were showing him.

There was a new couple’s dance trend circulating TikTok, and it was top priority to get Xavier on board with doing the trend. It was…a little provocative, to put it mildly. The dance started off innocent, but had a move at the end of it that included a little bit of grinding on your partner. You had absolutely zero intentions of posting it. Truthfully, you just saw an opportunity to rile Xavier up, and you were going to take it.

By the time the video looped for the fifth time, you waved your hand in front of his face. “Hellooo? Anyone in there?”

As if snapping out of a trance, Xavier finally blinked. Several times, actually, clearly trying to process whatever the hell you just made him watch. His eyes landed on you, and the poor guy looked like he had no idea where to start with his thoughts.

“Uhhhhh….”

“Let me guess,” You began, folding your arms indignantly, “you don’t want to do it,”

Xavier averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I…don’t know how I feel about recording that.” He finally said, finding a very interesting spot on the floor to stare at.

You figured he’d say no. Unfortunately for him, you’d planned ahead. You already had your dialogue choices preselected, and now it was time to roll.

“I’ll just ask Jeremiah, then,”

Xavier’s eye twitched, but he recovered quickly. He gave your thigh a playful squeeze as he shook his head. “Good luck. He knows better,” His tone was light, but you knew he wasn’t joking.

He was right. Jeremiah absolutely knew better. In fact, Jeremiah would likely have a panic attack if you even attempted to ask him to do something like that, simply out of fear of Xavier’s wrath. Jeremiah had once been subtly threatened over a completely innocuous conversation, and the deceptive softness in Xavier’s tone when he made the threat nearly had Jeremiah sputtering. (“You have nice teeth. It may be beneficial to find conversation elsewhere.”) Jeremiah didn’t look you in the eye for weeks after that.

The Jeremiah line, as predicted, was ineffective. With a sigh, you decided to default to your ‘in case of emergency’ tactic.

You stretched, trying to appear casual, doing your best to prevent a smirk from slipping. “I bet Lumiere would do the trend with me,”

Any traces of amusement that had been present on Xavier’s face vanished in an instant. The tension in the air thickened as soon as the words left your mouth. Xavier’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as his eyes locked onto your faux innocent face. The message was clear: you did NOT just say that.

Truthfully, you hadn’t meant to actually piss him off. However, the thought of Xavier essentially beefing with himself was too good to resist sometimes. You thought he’d gotten over this by now.

“I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” He said, his tone deceptively calm. If looks could kill, you’d be dead on the floor. This was a warning. He was giving you a chance to backpedal.

“I’m just saying,” You said, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened with his mood shift.

“You would prefer to do an indecent trend with Lumiere?” He questioned, his tone still eerily even, despite the clear annoyance in his eyes. You needed to be very careful with your next answer.

“I would prefer to do the indecent trend with Xavier,” You teased, cupping his face in your hands and giving his head a gentle shake. He softened slightly at the contact. “We don’t even have to post it,”

He rose from the couch, catching your wrist in the process and pulling you with him.

“Xavier? Where are we going?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“To do the trend,” He responded, his tone much lighter than it was previously. “I’ll do it so Lumiere doesn’t get the chance,

Zayne stared at you with an expression that could only be described as unamused. You had made an attempt to show him the newest couple’s dance trend, quietly tossing in a comment about how you two would ‘look good doing that trend.’ Based on his complete lack of a reaction, you had your answer without him even needing to open his mouth.

You pulled your phone away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s not that bad,” You said defensively.

That was a blatant lie. If you tried to shake your ass as hard as the girl in the video you’d just shown him, you’d probably throw out a hip. You, however, were on a mission to spice up things with Zayne a bit, and the new trend was a perfect excuse to make an attempt.

….it had sounded better in your head.

“It’s aggressive,” He responded dryly. “I would recommend a psychiatric evaluation if I saw you doing that,”

If you weren’t desperate, his comment would have been hilarious.

“Guess I’ll wait for the pink slip,” You retorted, leaning back in your chair. “because I’m doing that trend,”

“It’s a couple’s trend,” Zayne responded, his expression deadpan. “Do you intend on doing it alone?”

You pursed your lips, searching for an answer. An idea came to mind, and Zayne stiffened upon seeing the flash of mischief in your eyes.

“I wonder if Greyson would try it with me,” You mused. You had no intentions of actually asking Greyson, you were simply just trying to press buttons now.

Zayne's eyes narrowed, and it was the closest thing to a reaction you’d gotten out of him so far. He looked almost offended, and you actually started to feel bad. However, the guilt dissipated the second Zayne responded with his ‘professional’ voice.

“That’s highly inappropriate and unprofessional,” He chided, his brows furrowing as he spoke. “and it would be rather unbecoming of my assistant to participate in something indecent with my significant other.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke,” You said, reaching for his hand. He allowed you to grab it, but it did nothing to quell the absolute bewilderment your comment had caused.

“If you won’t actually do the trend with me, would you be willing to just practice?” You asked, purposefully lowering your voice to ‘bedroom’ tone.

Zayne’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He was definitely listening.

“I mean, you could consider that as an exercise, right?” You continued, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “And exercise is good for you, right?” Your tone was borderline teasing now, but it seemed to actually be working.

“It is,” He responded. “It increases blood flow, reduces the risk of heart disease, can increase dopamine levels—“

You squeezed his hand, giving him the flirtiest look you could muster.

“Well, Doctor Zayne, could you help me increase my dopamine?”

His resistance was crumbling quickly. Between that look on your face and the tone of your voice, it was getting harder and harder to deny you.

Especially when he knew what your real intentions were.

With a sigh, he softly grabbed your hand and rose from his spot at the table, his initial protests long forgotten.

“Phone stays on the table,” He warned, just to be safe.

As he lead you toward the couch, you couldn’t help but giggle.

Your plan had completely derailed, but in a way, you were still getting what you wanted.

As soon as you saw the newest couple’s dance trend circulating, you knew that you and Rafayel would absolutely OWN it.

You could already picture how hot he’d look with some shirt buttons undone, chest *slightly* exposed, swinging his hips with yours in tune to the beat of that catchy song. You two were going to absolutely devour this trend.

….Well, that was the plan, anyway.

He was willing to hear you out until he saw examples. By the third video, his ears were very pink, and he was staring at your phone like it had personally offended him. The amused smile he’d sat down with was no longer in the vicinity.

When he finally found his voice, the protesting was immediate. “Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening,” He said, shaking his head vigorously and shoving your phone away from him. He wiped his fingers on his pants as if he’d touched something dirty. He then rose from his seat, very obviously about to attempt a swift exit.

“Raf, please!” You begged, nearly tripping over your chair as you followed after him. You caught his sleeve, tugging him back toward you. He didn’t budge. “We’d look so good. I’ll literally start begging,”

He shook his head vehemently. “I don’t even want to imagine the headlines that would cause. Nooo way, (y/n),”

“When have you ever cared about what the headlines say?” You protested, giving his sleeve another tug. “Please! It’s just one video! I’ll never ask you to do a trend again!”

“I’ll agree to this when I see sharks driving cars,” He responded, skillfully escaping your desperate grip on his sleeve. He began heading toward the kitchen in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and this conversation as possible.

Fine. Let’s see how he likes this.

You retrieved your phone from the table and began typing a phone number. Rafayel paused and looked over his shoulder at the sound of your nails tapping against the screen.

He fully turned around when you hit the ‘call’ button and raised your phone to your ear.

“…who are you calling?” He asked, already heading back toward you, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Thomas,” You replied casually. “If you won’t do it with me, then—“

Your phone was confiscated before you could even finish your sentence. Rafayel held your phone above his head, his other hand pressed against your forehead, effectively keeping you an arm’s length away. Rafayel quickly ended the call before Thomas could pick up as you began to protest.

“Oh come on!” You cried out, arms flailing as you tried to retrieve your phone from Rafayel’s air jail.

“Apologize or I’ll swallow it,” He threatened, holding your phone higher above his head. “You can’t call other men or be influenced by dance videos if I eat your phone,”

You stared at him, beyond incredulous. While Rafayel did have a flair for the dramatic, the look on his face alone made you hesitant to call his bluff.

“You’d rather swallow my phone than do a 10 second trend with me?”

“You were calling Thomas! What does he have that I don’t?”

You folded your arms, glaring daggers at the man holding your phone hostage. “I only called Thomas because you refused.”

Rafayel scoffed, his expression nothing short of indignant. “Oh, so you’re just a traitor then? Gooot it. And to think I shared my smoothie with you earlier,”

“If you don’t like me anymore, just say that,”

Rafayel’s mouth dropped open upon hearing you use one of his ‘drama queen’ lines against him. He could not believe you had the nerve to use his own words for your own petty gratification. “You—“

He sighed, releasing your forehead from his palm. Your phone, however, was still in air jail.

Rafayel was silent for several moments, and you could almost physically see the gears in his brain working overtime.

“What if we compromise?” He finally asked, eyes landing directly on your face.

“Compromise?”

“I’ll do the trend with you. But you aren’t allowed to post it. Nuh-uh. It’s for our eyes only.” He finally lowered your phone from above his head, keeping it just out of reach as he continued speaking, “and if you post it anyway I will literally put a curse on you.”

You paused, your eyes flitting between Rafayel’s face and the phone that was still firmly in his hand. You considered your options, and after a small internal debate, you decided that this was as good as it was going to get.

“Okay,” You affirmed, holding out your hand for your phone. “Deal.”

He smiled, finally handing your phone.

As the two of you began to walk to the closet to find a change of clothes for the video, Rafayel spun to face you.

“Also,” He began, “You know how you said you’d never ask me to do a trend again?”

“Yes?”

“I’m holding you to that,”

The day had dragged on. Sylus had spent most of the day holed up in his armory, and the twins were out doing who knows what. Mephisto wasn’t great company either, and his beady little eyes got uncomfortable after a while. You were absolutely consumed by boredom, which lead to you scrolling on TikTok for far too long.

Right as you were finally about to throw your phone out of pure frustration, your algorithm came in clutch and graced you with a video from this week’s newest dance trend, a suggestive little couple’s dance. You bit your bottom lip, already feeling flushed at the thought of Sylus with his hands all over you like that.

It was sexy. It was flashy. And it was absolutely the cure for your boredom.

Your feet were moving before you’d put any thought into it, carrying you straight to the armory.

You all but crashed through the door.

“Sylus~” You chirped, zeroing in on him with a shit-eating grin on your face.

He looked up at you, eyes softening at your expression.

“Well, don’t you just look delighted,” He drawled, patting his lap for you to have a seat. “What’s the occasion?”

As you climbed into his lap, you pulled up the video you’d added to your favorites and held it out for him to watch. He did so without questioning it, but you could see the subtle expression change as he tried to process what he was seeing.

When the video ended, he returned his gaze to you, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing.

“Well?” You poked his cheek, searching for any hint of his thoughts in his expression.

“That was….modest,” He said, his voice laced with a level dry sarcasm that only Sylus was capable of.

“Will you do it with me?” You asked, getting straight to the point.

Sylus chuckled, the sound deep, rich, and like music to your ears. As quickly as your hopes rose, they were quickly squashed by his next statement.

“While I’m flattered that you think I’d be a good candidate for…that,” He began, gesturing toward your phone, “I’m going to have to decline, sweetie.”

Short, sweet, and to the point.

“Ugghhh, but I’m so bored!” You whined, tossing your head back in exasperation.

Sylus watched your mini-tantrum fondly, desperately fighting off a smirk. “If you’re bored, you could always hang out with me in here,”

You glanced around the room. It was clear that he’d been down here messing with several different weapons, and by the looks of things, he was nowhere near done.

You loved spending time with Sylus. On any other day, you would have jumped on the offer, just to be near him. Today, however, your boredom had reached its climax and you were certain you would combust if you sat down here and watched him meddle with various weapons.

With a defeated sigh, you removed yourself from his lap and began sulking toward the door. “I guess I’ll just go find the twins,”

Truthfully, you hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. You definitely weren’t going to bother them with the trend, but that was definitely how Sylus took it. You heard the distinct sound of a weapon being set down onto the table.

“No need,” He said gruffly, abandoning his task and rising to his full height. You turned and quirked an eyebrow, not understanding the sudden change of heart.

He closed the distance between the two of you, looping an arm around your shoulders as he passed.

“That…’trend’ gave me a better idea for a boredom cure,” He said, leading you out of the armory.

“Oh? Tell me!” You chirped excitedly.

Sylus shook his head. “It’s more of a show than a tell,”

While you didn’t get to do the spicy TikTok trend, Sylus had cured your boredom in a different spicy way.

You were reeeally thankful for that trend.

Thank you for interacting <3

If you enjoyed, please leave a like or reblog!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #lnds xavier #lads xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lads rafayel #lads zayne #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #lads headcanons #lnds headcanons

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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months ago

Text

Tangerine x single mom!reader

Summary: When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: protective!tangerine, mentions of coercion and kidnapping, cursing, crying

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt hi lovie!! here it is! hope you like it xx ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

* ~ *

April, your almost one-year-old, is currently tucked in your arms as you try to console her.

She won't calm down and you've been assuming the train's lights are too shiny for her small eyes since she's been inconsolable for the last hour. "Honey, shh," you try again, caressing her round cheeks.

"Hello." Your thoughts are interrupted by a calm voice as a young girl sits in front of you. Her short brown hair is cut neatly into a bob and she's wearing a pink shirt and skirt. She looks well-groomed. "Your baby is adorable," she comments, glancing at April.

"Thank you," you say, smiling as you bounce April on your lap now—the movement calming her a little as her cries turn into small breathy babbling sounds.

After a moment, the girl continues. "I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but have you seen a silver case somewhere around here? My Uncle seems to have misplaced it," the girl's smile falters as if looking for sympathy, "It's very important to me," she finishes, her eyebrows creasing as her lips downturn into a pout.

You shake your head.

She urges you, "Could you perhaps help me look then?" She leans in closer as she runs her hand under April's chin, her demeanor more insistent now.

Your smile falters and you turn April away, your hand on her back, as your motherly instincts kick in. Something is wrong. "I'm so sorry. I would help only," you begin, holding April closer.

Your answer is interrupted as the girl scowls, "I'll pay you," she says.

Pay you? Your mind races as you wonder why this girl would pay you for your help. What's in this case that warrants such attention? Once you shake your head again, the girl's calm energy vanishes.

"Well, this is a shame, hmm?" her tone suddenly shifts and she smiles cruelly as she crosses her legs. The table that's separating you and her comes in handy as it hides the weapon she produces and presses against your knee.

She angles the gun upwards and you tense your arms around April, holding her even closer. April squirms, sensing your worry.

"Please," you whisper, looking around the train. None of the other passengers seem preoccupied by your predicament. They aren't even looking in your direction.

You want to scream, but you have a feeling if you do so, this girl wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "Please don't hurt my baby," you say, fear settling inside you.

The girl tilts her head and chuckles. She taps the gun on your knee, making you flinch. "Hmm, you see, you're just the girl for this. Men underestimate girls like us—

They'll never see you coming—a vulnerable little thing like you, with something so precious to lose—you would do anything for your baby, would you?" She smiles at April.

"Please," you sound like a broken record, "what do you want from me?"

"Is your baby's daddy around?"

You want to lie but you're too scared so you shake your head.

"Pff, men—bastards, hmm?" The girl laughs and then she turns serious. "Now listen closely, if you don't want me to blow you and your baby to bits, you'll do exactly as I say," she pauses and her smirk turns sinister,

"Understand?"

* * *

You feel like you're in a trance as your shaky hands hold the gun behind you. You walk into the train car, looking for the men the girl had insisted took her case from her.

You feel a little exposed as the buttons from your chemise have been slightly unbuttoned to reveal your bra and the girl had made you let down your hair.

Go for the sex appeal and you'll have men at your feet, she'd promised.

However, you don't care how stupid you look. All you care about is April. April, who the girl has promised you she wouldn't harm if you did as you were told. April, who had started to scream again when you'd placed her in the seat next to the cruel stranger and who had continued to cry as you disappeared from her view.

Your poor baby.

You try not to cry now. You don't want your mascara to run and ruin your cover. You hold your head up, glancing at all the passengers as you walk by.

Twins. You were looking for Twins—that should be easy enough.

You walk slower, only catching fragments of conversations, until suddenly you walk by two men.

One is adjusting his stripped blue vest, his brown hair messy and his face smeared in bruises and blood.

The other, who looks nothing like the first, is holding onto a silver case. Your breath hitches when you hear the man exclaim, "Some fucker had this in his arms when I bumped into 'im—what are the odds, huh? Maybe it is our lucky day, bruv!"

You pause. They don't look like Twins, but in all honesty that means nothing—they have the case.

You take a breath and shut your eyes, turning around and hiding the gun in the flow of your skirt. You walk up to them, your eyes landing on your target as you 'accidentally' trip and fall onto the man in blue's lap.

"What the fuck?!" The man exclaims. It's an honest reaction to some random girl falling onto you. His British accent is thick and your cheeks burn as you stare into his blue eyes. Suddenly, your entire ruse threatens to crumble as your hands shake. You try to shift and press the gun to the man's stomach—like you'd been told.

April, think of April.

"She has a gun," the other man whisper-shouts and this sets the man you'd landed on into action as he hastily grabs your wrists, his other hand gripping at your waist as he shoves you off of him and corners you in the other seat, you back pressed to the wall as he twists your hand.

You yelp in pain, dropping the gun as your tears now fall freely. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a blow or a hit of some kind as your chest heaves.

None come.

"Her hand is trembling, Lemon." You hear and hesitantly open your eyes. The man holding your wrist has turned to his friend, Lemon, and is showing him the shake in your hand.

Lemon looks you over and settles in his seat again. "Poor bird's shakin' in general," he points out, confusion evident in his voice.

The first man tugs on your arm to pull your eyes to him. You look up, body still pressed up against the window as one of your legs dangles from the seat and off his thighs.

You don't dare move as the man looks like he wants to kill you. "What are ya doin' with this," he snarls, shaking the gun to scare you but then he hands it to his friend. "Who the fuck are ya? Some fuckin' hooker tryin' to play assassin?" He looks you up and down in your little outfit and you feel humiliated.

You shake your head. Assassin. The word rings in your ear. "I'm sorry," you cry breathlessly, "Please. I'm so sorry, please—she has my baby,"

You're a sobbing mess at this point, your voice trembling and hoarse. "She has my baby-"

Lemon speaks up when the man doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist. "Tangerine," he hisses, "she's sobbing. Something's wrong, mate."

Tangerine looks at Lemon sternly and then turns his attention back to you. You feel the tears spill down your cheeks as he stares and then he drops your wrist.

In an instant, you scramble to press yourself further against the wall and sit normally. You hastily button up your shirt, sex appeal be damned.

"Someone put ya up to this, didn't they?" Tangerine asks, his eyes softening just a little as he calms himself down. "Does someone have your baby?" he is trying to make sense of the word vomit that had just happened.

"Yes, s-she took my baby. I- I don't know what to do anymore. Please don't hurt me," you plead. Tangerine's eyebrows furrow. He looks at Lemon and they seem to have a conversation—or perhaps an argument—with their eyes.

"Lemon, my brother," Tangerine says after a moment, Lemon's lips curving as he clearly won whatever had just happened between them,

"And I'm Tangerine," he looks you up and down again. "We aren't gonna hurt ya, darlin'. Promise," he says as he runs a hand in his hair and then down his jaw, "And we're gonna help you find your baby, okay? No need to worry."

You stare at him, you have no desire to question their weird names as you are still a little afraid of them, but you nod anyway. They're your only chance of saving April from the hands of the cruel girl. You tell them your name. You have to trust them.

So, you find yourself in the train bathroom, Tangerine hooking something to your ear. His hands work through your hair as he connects the earpiece to the one in his ear. He looks so concentrated and you can't help but stare at him.

He's handsome.

"I'll be able to hear ya through this, ok?" Tangerine's voice cuts your thoughts and you nod at him. You must still look scared because he adds, "Lemon and I will be around the corner, all ya need is to distract her so she doesn't see us coming, understand?"

You nod again and Tangerine's eyebrow raises. He wants to hear you.

"I understand—thank you," you say, voice still trembling. This earns you a smirk and one last check to your earpiece as his fingertips skim the skin around your ear. He looks into your eyes as he hides the device behind your hair.

"Good girl," he whispers and the words roll off his tongue naturally. They take you by surprise as your heart leaps in your chest. Tangerine clears his throat, not giving you the chance to dwell on them as he opens the bathroom door and sends Lemon a nod to follow you.

You try to keep up the appearance of confidence as you walk back to your original seat, the case in your hand. You've been playing the story in your head; They'd left it unattended. I took it from their seats. You don't know if that sounds convincing.

You check behind you subtly and see that the Twins have stayed in the room between the compartments and are waiting for you to distract the girl. You let out a scared breath that Tangerine must hear because his voice echoes in your ear.

You'll be fine. We're right behind you.

When you see the girl, her back is turned to you, and you see April's small legs hanging from the seat as she sits in the girl's lap. Your heart is pounding as you make your way to them.

April seems overjoyed to see you and your heart breaks when you see the tears-stains on your baby's face. Your expression hardens as you put the case on the table and sit in front of the girl.

"Ah, you found it," the girl smiles, caressing April's hair. "You know, we don't compliment mothers enough. Your baby would not stop screaming—it was becoming annoying. The little rascal did tired himself out eventually because he almost fell asleep."

"She. Her name is April," you say without thinking, jaw clenched. "I did what you asked, can I have my daughter back now?"

The girl looks down at the case but shakes her head, "Mm, no. You may not. I still need your help. Come with me," the girl smirks and stands. She is still holding April in her arms and your breathing has become heavy. You try not to make any expression at all when you see Tangerine and Lemon stealthily approach the girl from behind.

You hear her surprised gasp as Tangerine grips her arm and you assume he presses his gun to her lower back because she suddenly tenses.

"Hand her the baby, now," he says in a throaty whisper. He isn't asking. The girl frowns and her hand clenches around April for a moment.

With the commotion, April wails and without hesitation—and the security that Tangerine won't let this girl harm you—you swoop in and cradle April in your arms.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here, my love," you whisper into April's head as tears freely escape your eyes once again. Tangerine's gun is still pressed to the girl's back as Lemon swoops in and takes the case once more.

You're too busy with April to hear their conversation and eventually, Lemon grabs the girl and ushers her away.

Tangerine remains, his eyes unusually soft as he observes you and April. He walks closer, but not too close. He doesn't want to scare April—he tends to scare babies, especially when he's as disheveled as he is now.

You see him and instantly you walk to him and, holding April with one arm, you wrap the other one around his shoulder as you lean up to kiss his cheek. You seem less terrified now that you have your baby and Tangerine's cheeks flush as he feels your lips against his skin.

He doesn't pull away from you.

"Thank you," you say, your hand sliding down his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, and then you back away. "I can't ever thank you and Lemon enough," you bounce April on your hip and she giggles. She stares at Tangerine and suddenly reaches out to him with her small hand.

Tangerine's eyes widen and he looks at you for permission. You nod.

He reaches out and April holds out her small hand to wrap around his finger. She makes a small giggling sound again as she babbles—"She's saying thank you too," you beam in amusement, kissing April's temple.

"She's absolutely beautiful," Tangerine says, smiling fondly. You grin, your attention fully on your daughter, that you haven't noticed the way Tangerine's blue eyes stay locked onto yours as he says the words.

April drops Tangerine's hand and you hold her tightly. "Can Lemon and I help ya find your way off this train, luv? Ya do have somewhere safe to go, right?" Tangerine asks plainly, feeling weirdly protective over you and the little baby in your arms.

You think for a moment, still breathless from what had happened. This train doesn't feel safe anymore. You feel so out of your depth. You were supposed to visit some friends, but you'd missed your stop, and anyways none of that matters anymore.

You'd almost lost April and if you hadn't met them—you gaze at Tangerine—you don't know what you would have done to save her.

You shake your head and Tangerine's eyes narrow. "Well, that's a problem, innit?" he says and runs a hand in his hair. He stands tall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lemon's finished taking care of the girl who'd threatened you and April.

"You wanna stay with us?" Tangerine asks calmly, looking into your eyes. "Lem and I are gettin' off now. We have what we wanted, and we ain't gonna stick around this train to find out what happens if we do. Come with us. We'll keep you and April safe. Promise."

Although his words feel like a pretty, empty, shiny promise, you accept them anyway. You don't have many choices at the moment and Lemon and Tangerine tell you they have what they call a safe house in the area, which sounds better than a cheap motel.

* * *

However, a week later, you still haven't left said safe house.

Lemon had explained that it wasn't safe to travel yet, that he and Tangerine needed more time to settle their affairs before they could easily travel again—especially with April around now. You don't know what that means, only that Lemon and Tangerine often come back from their "affairs" bloodied and bruised.

You'd just finished cleaning Lemon's head wound when you hear April giggling from her play mat in the middle of the living room.

Lemon stands from the couch, his grin widening as he exclaims, "My turn to watch the lil' angel! Tan needs his abdomen wound checked anyway," Lemon wastes no time in sitting next to April and showing her the Thomas The Tank Engine figurine he'd gotten her.

You smile and move towards where Tangerine sits in the armchair in the corner. You turn to him and your eyes widen a little. You're thankful for all the months you spent in medical school before you became pregnant with April because Tangerine looks awful.

His left eye is swollen shut, he has blood dripping from his lip, and he's lifting his shirt for you to look at the deep—while still not deep enough to need stitches—gash near his ribs (which is also black and blue from bruising). He isn't looking at you, a faint tint of pink adorning his cheeks.

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, crouching down and rummaging in the first aid kit on the ground.

"Hmm," Tangerine hums, still refusing to look at you.

It must hurt him because he flinches when you apply some alcohol to the wound and bandage him up. You try to ignore that you're touching his chest, or how his skin feels under your hands. It feels entirely inappropriate to ogle your wounded patient.

Again, good thing you never actually became a nurse.

"So, you're a nurse?" Tangerine suddenly grunts, looking at you with lidded eyes as you move up to inspect how badly his eye is hurt.

You shake your head, smiling. "No. April came around in the middle of medical school and I had to drop out," you smile and prod at his cheek, earning a wince and you mumble a small "sorry."

"Ya still know what you're doin', yeah?" Tangerine raises his eyebrow in question and winces again, which makes you chuckle. You apply some ointment to his eye.

"I paid attention in class, yes. I probably couldn't operate on you, but I can mend your black eye," you tease. Tangerine stares at you and he smirks.

"Good," he looks behind you and after a moment, "Lemon stole your baby," he deadpans.

You turn and see that Lemon must have taken April to the room the Twins had designated as hers. On the first night of your arrival, the Twins had gone all out and purchased all sorts of essentials for children and women. It was unexpected and sweet of them—so incredibly sweet.

"She'll be fine," you laugh and then turn to Tangerine again. He's giving you that look; the one he's been giving you for the last day or two.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. "You know, don't tell Lemon, but you're April's favorite," you say as you clean up the materials you had used on his wounds.

"I am?" Tangerine asks, looking genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," you nod, "she's starting to babble something that sounds awfully similar to 'Tan'."

"Ah," Tangerine seems happy by this development and you smile. There is a moment of silence as you watch him. You're still kneeling next to him and his shirt is still half-bunched up around his torso. Your chest tightens and you hear Tangerine swallow.

"Is April's dad—" he starts and you finish for him,

"In the picture?"

A pause. Tangerine nods and you shake your head. "Nah," you shrug, "Left as soon as he heard I was pregnant. He wanted to continue medical school without any complications. He's probably some fancy doctor or some shit by now, I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."

"Dickhead," you hear Tangerine suddenly grumble, and then his hand finds your chin. He lifts your head and his eyes lock with yours. "He's a fool for leavin' ya. He doesn' know what he's missing," he says as his thumb caresses your lower lip. "Ya understand? He's a fool."

You nod, entranced as your heart continues to panic in your chest. When Tangerine finally drops your chin, you clear your throat and stand.

He stands too and walks closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "Ya don't need to worry anymore, darlin'. Lem and I won't let anyone harm you or April. I won't let 'em touch a single hair on your pretty head," he breathes, his voice stern, and you feel his lips against your cheek for a fleeting moment until he moves and disappear upstairs.

You're left standing in the living room, your heart pounding as you replay every word he'd said. Your skin feels warm and clammy.

What have you gotten yourself into now?

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audreyscribes · 1 year ago

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others.

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection.

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment.

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid.

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying.

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least.

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment.

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

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child-of-plut0 · 6 months ago

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Omg I know hoyo is colorist as shit, and i’m obviously not defending their skin tone choices, but can we talk about some of the other cool details?? In the new teaser they talk about this Tournament thing while they toss around a small ball, and from what I can tell it’s a reference to a 3500 year old mayan sport called pokolpok (or tlachtli in aztec).

It’s said to be football’s precedent for being one of the oldest team sports recorded. It got spread throughout the entire precolumbian mesoamerica, around every culture in the region. The mayan played this sport because it was like a play on the history of their universe: Two twin gods descended to hell to play this game against demons, their purpose was to collect bones to create a new human race. Said twins won and with the bones Mayans were created.

I don’t know if that story will have any relevance to the Natlan archon quest, but I think it’s especially cool because it reminded me of the constant topic we have in the game around twins. Idk smth smth about the twins and the theory that Teyvat is hell and the archons are demons smth smth

I think references like these are extremely cool and it’s important to remember that skin color is not the only form of representation (Again, i’m not defending hoyo).

#i didn’t think i’d see such thing be represented in the game #i got really excited when i picked up the reference #im excited to see more of natlan #hopefully something is done about the skin tones though #genshin impact #natlan

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hyunjining · 13 days ago

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my thoughts on every song on hop, so that i don’t have to make a million different posts (in case you care)

walkin' on water - catchyyyy af. changbin's verse at the beginning is soooo perfectly old school hiphop. imitating record scratches vocally and through wordplay is so silly and so skz and i think this whole song is just fun

bounce back - I DON'T GIVE A SHIT MOVE IF YOU WANNA LIVE!!!! literally a masterpiece. perhaps not the epitome of my music taste, but the production, the flows, and the attitude are undeniably spectacular. the whistling in the intro is the best thing i've ever heard no joke. holy shit stray kids you are so fucking good at what you do please make music forever

u (ft. tablo) - the VOCALS!!!! everyone sounds so fucking good here wowee.... the instrumental in the chorus is so pretty and melancholy.

walkin' on water (hip ver.) - this is batshit insane lmao. i saw people saying this version should have been the tt but i like it as walkin on water’s unhinged secret twin

railway - obviously very sexy but also just so gorgeous production wise. it sounds so grand and a bit menacing. we have GOT to start praising bang chan’s vocals more. i love that this is his favorite genre of music because it suits him so well.

unfair - the lyrics are so felix in the best way; my heart is so warm thinking about him writing this with the message that everyone is deserving of love. his voice has so much range and i LOVE to hear him sing confidently.

hallucination - it sounds sooo crisp. jeongin’s tone is perfect for this song. all the little sounds in the background that you couldn't hear in the live version are so cool. the CASTANETS. in my expert opinion, this fits into the category of gay people music. maybe my favorite solo. hurry hurry hurry~

youth - show me whatchu wanna do!!!! this song makes me so fucking happy and i feel like i want to jump around the room. lee know has one of my favorite voices ever and i would genuinely listen to him sing anything but i love this upbeat style for him

so good - the INTRO. the instrumental is soooo cool. i’ll never forget hearing this for the first time through a shitty audio stream on twitter and immediately perking up. the "oh. my. GAWD." is so cunty hwang hyunjin i am obsessed with you. i can't believe he wrote this song as a joke lmfao it's well. so good.

ultra - a banger. i’m obsessed with the fact that the instrumental gets noisier as the song goes on, in alignment with changbin's explanation that he's meant to be building up and then releasing energy by the end. i don’t go to raves but if i did i would need to hear this song play at one. i just love it when changbin goes all out with the edm

hold my hand - so anime coded, because of course. this is a perfect combination of han's love of rock and rap. thinking of the layers of meaning to this song is so overwhelming and honestly i just hope that han jisung is happy forever and always makes music because this is absolutely what he was born to do.

as we are - i’m speechless. this song is STUNNING. it gives me so many warm and fuzzy feelings and i don’t even need to know the lyrics to feel emotional while listening to it. how am i supposed to get through his beautiful soft vocals in the first chorus without crying. i'm so fucking glad this man is a singer. half of the streams of this song are going to be me

#i love you stray kids and i love you stray kids music!!!!#skz #stray kids

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featherandferns · 2 months ago

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gamble (alternative ending)

after some feedback from the original fic, I've decided to share the original ending to gamble that I had to change/cut because of Tumblr's post-size policies!

gamble - a jj maybank x fem!kook!reader 22k word fic - can be read here!

BBBRRRINNNGGGG. BBBRRRINNNGGGG.

You startle awake, shooting up in bed like you’ve been electrocuted. It’s one of those feelings when you don’t remember where you are or when you fell asleep. As you rub at your eyes and let them focus on your surroundings, illuminated by the soft glow of your bedside lamp through the darkness, you remember. You’re in your bed, in your room. Your mom must have left you to sleep after you nodded off, finally at some semblance of peace to get some rest. The sleep you fell into was dreamless and well-needed.

BBBRRRINNNGGGG.

Blindly reaching for your vibrating phone, you squint at the bright screen and make out Kie’s contact picture and name. You swipe to answer.

“Hello?” you mumble, half-asleep.

“Hey! Can you hear me okay?”

“Yeah,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes again. “What time is it?”

“I don’t remember. Like ten, maybe? Eleven?”

“Hmngh.”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sleepily reply.

“I think you need to come over,” Kiara says. Something about her tone has you awake like a shot of espresso. You push the covers down off you.

“Is everything okay?”

She sighs and that does little to ease your worries. “Look, I know you and JJ are in a bit of a fight-thing right now - I don’t know, maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is, at least partially but–”

“Kie? What’s going on?” you interrupt.

“I just…” She sighs again, then finally says, “I just think JJ really needs you right now.”

“I’m on my way,” you reply, hanging up. You climb out of bed and don’t bother getting dressed past pulling on a sweatshirt. The clothes on your body are three days old; you changed once since the conversation with JJ. A pair of mac and cheese stained sweatpants and an old tank top. Ranger wakes as you make your way down the stairs and you decide to let him join. It’s disorientating as you sneak out the house into darkness, considering that you fell asleep in the daylight. The two of you load into your car and you’re leaving your house in record time. In the rearview mirror you check your hair and cuss, trying to smooth it down. Your skin is makeup free and body empty of jewellery, save from the bracelet that twins JJ’s. It makes you feel somewhat naked. As if he heard the whole conversation, Ranger whines from the passenger seat. You murmur reassurances and pet his head as you drive down the deserted roads. The Chateau beams into sight from your headlights. But there’s something else. Some other light, bright and illuminating, from the yard that wasn’t there before. You park your car and climb out, Ranger quick to follow, and walk into the yard. Your eyes widen as they land on a hot tub.

“What…the…fuck?”

“Oh, thank God,” Kiara exhales in relief, appearing in the doorway of the porch. She rushes down to you and wraps you in a hug, and you’re happy to return it. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to get involved in whatever it is going on with you and JJ, and I never really know if we’re friends or just circumstance friends but–”

“Kie! It’s fine, it’s fine,” you interrupt with a small laugh, a tad concerned. You pull apart, hands on her shoulders, to meet her gaze. Your smile melts with unease, eyes heavy with worry. “What’s going on? Is JJ okay?”

She sighs and shakes her head. She takes a step away from you and rubs at her head. “He got in a fight with his dad. Some stuff went down after you two had your…talk. I don’t know…It might just be better to ask him.”

You purse your lips and nod slowly, contemplatively.

“He’s inside,” Kiara tells you. With that, you make your way up the porch stops. At the front door, you falter and stop. Would he even want to see you? Was this somehow breaking the rules of your ‘non-break’; not giving him the space he needs to think and function away from you? You recount the past three days of your side of the non-break. How you’ve spent them hiding in your bed, crying at the oddest moments, feeling the lack of JJ’s company like you lost a limb. Ranger rubs at your leg, whining, and you decide to trust your gut. If he wants you to leave, all he has to do is say, but you’re certain Kiara wouldn’t call for just any old thing.

The spare bedroom door is shut. Ranger whines and whines and scratches at the door. Your hands wrap around the handle and you take a steady breath in. The rickety handle creaks as you slowly push it open, the hinges protesting loudly. One of your hands leans down to grab at Ranger’s collar to keep him by your heel. On the bed is JJ, slumped as he sits, his back to the door.

“Kie, I told you to jus’ leave me alone, a’right? I’m fine,” he mumbles. His voice is thick like he’s been crying. You swallow.

“It’s not Kiara,” you quietly confess. JJ whips around. His lips part and eyes gape and he stares at you as you stand awkwardly in the doorway. You probably look just as much of a mess; days-old clothing, unruly hair, make-up free and irritated skin. Funnily enough, a diet of purely Reese’s Pieces is not the best for keeping spots and blemishes at bay.

“What are you doing here?” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher.

“Kiara called me,” you reply, shrugging as you add, “she’s worried about you and thought I should come over.”

“Oh, uh, right.”

His head slumps and he stares at the blanket atop of his bed. You purse your lips and feel the awkwardness and unease consume your entire body. Contemplating leaving, you glance behind you, into the silent hallway. But then Ranger somehow manages to slip from your hold. He races over to JJ like a rescue dog in the mountains, clambering onto the bed, ambushing JJ. He laughs at the onslaught of slobbery kisses, letting Ranger imitate a lap dog. His fingers scratch into the coarse fun on Ranger’s neck and he chuckles.

“I missed you too, boy,” he murmurs. You smile at the sight. JJ glances over at you.

“I figured you might need a puppy-pick-me-up. He missed you like crazy.” You then take a shaky breath as you go on to admit, “we both did.”

A look flashes across JJ’s face then. His smile lessens as if in thought, and he nods. “I missed you too.”

“I can leave if you want me to leave,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“No,” JJ blurts, quick like a cat running from a loud bang. “No, don’t…don’t leave. Please.”

You nod. You’d stay forever if he asked you to. You’re not sure there’s many things JJ could ask of you that you’d protest to. Closing the door behind you, you wander over to the bed and sit sort of opposite to him, on the side nearest the door. Ranger settles half laid in JJ’s lap, appeased now that he’s in the company of perhaps his favourite person in the world. Your eyes survey JJ’s face for new injuries and am relieved to find none. The old have healed completely now too, thank God. That’s a relief at least. He’s unharmed. Or so you thought.

“Do you, uh…Do you remember when we went fishing, just last week? I don’t know, it feels like a lifetime ago now but…” you cut yourself off nervously with a laugh. JJ nods vaguely. “D’you remember what I said to you?”

“That you’re an armed woman, now?” JJ wonders, quirking a brow, that cute, playful smile trying to break out.

You laugh quietly, shortly, and dip your head for a moment. “Not just that though. D’you remember that I told you that you can always tell me anything, and that I’m always gonna be on your side?”

JJ nods again.

“It’s kinda ironic cause I think that’s when you started putting up these walls,” you say. Another small breath in and then you continue, “and I don’t blame you for it, JJ. In fact, I think I understand it.”

His brows tug together, unclear, and you’re not sure you’ve ever known him to be this quiet before.

“I can’t relate to you, JJ. I have my own struggles with trivial kind of stuff but I don’t know real struggle. Not like you do. So, I don’t blame you. I mean, why would you let a rich, stook-up Kook into that?”

“I ain’t mean it like–”

“--No, no, I’m not mad. I’m not saying that to be all ‘woe is me’ or whatever. I mean it. Like…I get it,” you interrupt, fighting to hold his eyesight. “It just hurts, y’know? Cause the thing is, I love you. I love you no matter what. No matter the ‘bad decisions’ and the stupid choices, like the Midsummer’s fiasco or whatever. But I can’t love you, JJ, if I don’t know you. If I don’t know these things about you. I don’t like being left on the outside. It makes me feel like I don’t matter to you, and I don’t know if I can take that feeling, y’know?”

JJ licks his lips nervously and clears his throat. He nods, glances around the room, uncomfortable by your candidness. JJ doesn't come from a place where conversations like these were encouraged or common and so, as if to reassure, your hand finds his on the blanket. You softly envelope it with your warmth. He stares at that small gesture for a long while.

“I just don’t want you to think less of me,” JJ confesses quietly. “I’m a scumbag, a’right? I make dumbass choices and get myself into dumbass situations and I’m not good for you.”

“Yes, you are, JJ. You’re a good person.”

“No, I ain’t,” he quickly dismisses, meeting your gaze once more. And he means that. It hurts you so bad because he means it. “I ain’t a good person.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re a good person to me, okay? I don’t care about all that other noise–”

“--Well, you should, alright?” JJ snaps, losing his tether. His hand slips from your comfort to flail out into the air in a wild gesture. “I mean, Jesus! I just fuckin’ robbed a drug dealer and blew the money on a hottub, for Christ’s sake - and you’re sitting here telling me I’m a good person?”

You look down with that. JJ catches his anger and sighs, shakes his head, disappointed. “I’m sorry, I just…This is what I mean. I can’t let you get that close to me.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You don’t love me, JJ, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.”

“No, hey - what? I never said I don’t love you.”

“You never tell me that you do,” you whisper, eyes stinging with tears yet again. You look at him and offer him a shaky smile. “I don’t want to force someone to be with me, JJ.”

“I don’t want you to tie yourself to me,” JJ out-right states. As if surprised by his own truthfulness, he’s spurred on. “I don’t want you to say you’re okay with these things now and then look around in three months time or whatever, and realise just what a fuck-up you’re with.”

“I’m never gonna think that,” you tell him. “I’m never gonna think you’re a fuck-up.”

JJ looks unsure of whether to believe you or not. Your hand finds his again, the other landing on his thigh. “I mean it, JJ. I’m in love with you. I don’t care what batshit, crazy stuff you get yourself involved in, as long as I’m in it too. I’m in, okay? All of it. I’m in. You just gotta stop shutting me out, yeah?"

JJ shakes his head slowly. But he’s easing up, coaxing open like a conker from its spiky shell. His tone is joking, lighter like buttercream, as he says, “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling sweetly. “But I’m your baby.”

He smiles at that.

“So, will you tell me? All of it? Please,” you request.

And he does.

It’s hard at first, like he’s forcing the words out syllable by syllable, but then it gets easier. The stories. The reasons. The motives. It starts with the hurricane - hurricane Agatha - and then with the white boat that they found. That’s where he got that gun - the same gun that you used to save him from Rafe and Topper - and you distantly recall his story. Then bits and pieces continue to crop up surrounding the Royal Merchant: the compass, the package…Then comes the grocery run and the jump on Pope, and the revenge. How Pope sank the boat, not JJ. That’s when the scruff up happened at the outdoor theatre, with you wielding the gun and saving their asses. Soon after came the arrest, originally intended for Pope but JJ gladly taking the fall. The pictures in the interrogation room of those men, bludgeoned and killed with a fishing spear before being left for shark bait. How JJ was terrified of that happening to John B but, more importantly, of it happening to you. First Rafe's ever-looming threat over your head and now this, and JJ felt like it was all because of him.

So he started to shut you out of it. Wanted to keep you at arms length. You couldn't get wrapped up in the Royal Merchant madness if you knew nothing about it.

"Cause I have to keep you safe," JJ mumbles, gazing into your eyes. "You're the most important thing in the world t'me, y'know? If something happened to you...and it was because of me..."

His voice trails off as if he can't bare the thought. Your heart swells. You squeeze his hand reassuringly and it prompts him to go on. JJ returns to the story. To how his dad beat him when he came to pick him up, and that’s why he was black-and-blue when he came to your house for dinner with your parents. God, if only you knew. After, with Midsummers, with John B dating Sarah Cameron (hence the secret note) and the meet-up at Rixon’s surrounding the Royal Merchant and the gold. How you weren’t invited because above everything else, JJ had to keep you safe. Then, they found it. They actually found the gold, under the Crain house, and they were going to be rich. Stinking, fucking, stupid rich. That brought them to today.

“So we melt the gold down,” JJ recounts, petting Ranger’s sleeping head. “And go to this pawn shop, a’right, way up town in like dodge-ville. I’m the one who’s gotta pawn this hunk of crap ‘cause I’m the best at bullshitting, so I go in and spin this whole yarn about my dementia-crazed mom or some shit. The pawn broker sends us out to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, and we get jumped by this random guy with a gun. He held it to our heads and made us give up the gold, but John B got the upper hand, right? You following? And I lost my shit, okay? Like things just felt…With you and the whole ‘break that isn’t a break’ thing, and the gun…I lost me shit, and I wanted to get even. An eye for an eye and all that crap - I mean, you know, you’ve read the bible. So we go to his shitty ass trailer and I steal the twenty-K that I owe for that boat Pope sank. But the others weren’t, uh…they weren’t super cool with that, so I went off alone, a’right? Cause I don’t need anybody but me, yeah? And I go to my dad and give him the money to settle up with the cops. But…But he don’t wanna do that. So this whole…thing starts and…”

JJ loses his momentum. His lower lip starts to tremble and this infuriates him. Huffing, he presses his hand over his mouth. You frown, worried, brows so closely knit they might as well be one. A shuddering breath that’s so deeply unfamiliar to hear in JJ lets slip. A tear trickles tellingly down his cheek.

“Oh, JJ,” you murmur.

“I nearly fuckin’ killed him,” JJ gasps. More tears fall. He stares you down as he repeats, “I nearly fuckin’ killed him and I-- I just couldn’t take it anymore, y'know? I couldn’t take it–”

You throw your arms around his shoulders and pull his shivering body into you. JJ rests his head on your shoulder, burying his face in your collarbone, and he sobs. Your own eyes well at the feeling of his pain leaking onto you, and you press your nose against the collar of his shirt, breathing in the only smell that can bring you calm. Your own personal brand of nicotine. His arms raise to cradle your back, holding you close just as you do him, and you let him cry. With every tear, it’s as though another brick has been pulled free from the walls he’s been building in the past two short weeks.

Even when the headfirst sadness has passed, you hold him. It’s safe here, in this corner of the world, once again lapped in moonbeams and darkness.

“I do love you,” JJ says against your skin. His breath is warm as it fans across the flesh. “It’s jus’...my family, we didn’t do the whole talking thing. I’m not used to really tellin’ anybody anything, let alone how I feel. It’s easy enough saying it to my friends but with you, like that…It scares the crap outta me.”

“Why?” you breathe, pulling back to be able to meet his gaze. Your head shakes as you gently say, “why is it so hard when I say it to you all the time? You know I’m never gonna turn you away or shoot you down for saying it.”

“I don't’ know,” JJ admits. “I don’t know, I guess I just have this thing that tells me I shouldn’t ever tell anybody.”

“In case you ever want to take it back?” you wonder.

JJ swallows thickly like taking medicine. He shakes his head. His eyes look so sad you could weep.

“No. In case you ever want me to.”

Lips parting, something clicks in your head. You think about the past two weeks. How your parents welcomed JJ into their house with open arms, whereas JJ is lucky if he can stay in his for a week without a blow-up. How you lean into your mom for comfort, whereas JJ can only find that in the bottom of a bottle. You’d only ever been met with love and grace and forgiveness. JJ? He knew betrayal and abandonment and disdain. You said you understood before, the first time he told you that he loved you, way back after the fight at the outdoor movie, but you didn’t. Not until now.

“I drove past your house everyday, y’know?” JJ mumbles. “I wanted to call you so bad but I know you wanted this space and that I'd already fucked it up with the whole Ashley thing. I don't know...I guess I just didn't wanna push you. But I wanted to come over, so bad.”

A laugh bubbles up your throat and you can’t swallow it back. Shaking your head, you admit, “I thought about you everyday.”

JJ smiles, then starts to laugh under breath. “Wow. We’re really good at this, huh?”

“You should’ve come over,” you tell him, a teasing smile on your lips. “That’s what the guys do in the movies.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, grinning. “Now that just ain’t fair!”

The two of you sit in your laughter. It’s heavy like it holds stones in the pockets, but with each giggle you feel yourself becoming lighter. When the humour dies down, the two of you are left with sated smiles, gazing at one another. But JJ’s smile begins to fade. That same look of sorrow comes over his face.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I shut you out. I just...I just never wanna lose you.”

You shake your head. “You’re not gonna lose me, JJ.”

“You promise?”

“On Ranger’s life,” you say with a flicker of humour. He smiles, small, and nods. His hair is still damp and sits sticky on his forehead.

“I should’ve told you about Ashley. I thought I was maybe saving you, or somethin’, by not but…You deserve to know. You’re entitled to know,” he affirms. “I’ll tell you anything you want. I swear.”

“I don’t need to know about the others, JJ,” you reply, meaning every word. Your hand squeezes his tightly. “I trust you.”

Both of your gazes drift down to your interlocked hands. On yours and JJ's wrists sit your handmade bracelets; the beads of your initials press against one another as if embracing.

“Fuck,” JJ breathes out in a dying laugh. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Your head darts up. The words hang themselves in your head like bunting. A girlish, giddy smile breaks out on your lips. JJ begins to mirror it.

“You do?” you giggle.

His head bumps against yours. The smell of chlorine and prosecco comes and goes like the tide. Your lips want to chase his but something keeps you at bay, waiting for him. You found him first: now it was his turn to find you.

“I can’t promise that I’m not gonna keep fuckin’ things up. But you came into my life and fuckin' turned my world of grey into colour. And I don't...I don't know if I can see those kinda things without you."

And somehow, someway, that's deeper than 'I love you'.

"Promise to let me in, now?"

Despite your closed eyes, you can see JJ's smile clear as day.

"I promise. You're officially a Pogue."

JJ’s lips find yours like a migrating bird returning home, and you feel as though you can finally breathe right for the first time in three days. Your fingers slip into his hair, combing through the strands, and JJ’s palms and fingers caress across your figure, as if tracing your body back into his mind.

And as the two of you kiss, you realise that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was JJ. Wonderfully, recklessly-imperfect, Pogue through-and-through JJ.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj #obx #outer banks #outerbanks #obx 4 #outerbanks 4 #outer banks 4 #outerbanks season 4 #outer banks season 4 #obx season 4 #jj x kook!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #kook!reader

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pinkslipxox · 1 month ago

Note

love love love mom Billie could you do something when their teens?

hey my love!! Eeek yes ofc! Love you 🙈😘

——————————————————————————

Billie sat in her home studio, surrounded by an eclectic mix of instruments, soundboards, and a wall covered in inspirational artwork and song lyrics. The familiar hum of her recording equipment created a comforting backdrop as she worked on the latest track that had been swirling in her mind.

Yet as the clock ticked closed to midnight, Billie felt an odd wave of motherly instincts overcome her. She could sense something was off, and following her instincts, she got up from her desk and walked towards her daughters’ shared bedroom, her heart racing with both curiosity and concern.

Billie panicked for a moment when she saw the two empty beds, but at the slight sound of muffled giggles and keys jingling, relief washed over her. She instinctively followed the sound to the front door. There, in the dim light of the hallway, were her twin daughters, both in their late teens, huddled together and whispering conspiratorially. They were dressed for a night out, hair perfectly styled, and a mischievous spark in their eyes.

Just then, Ava turned to the front door, her hand poised over the knob, while Mia peeked over her shoulder, clearly less sure about their plan. Before she could take another step, Billie cleared her throat, stepping into the light, her presence immediate and unwavering.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Billie asked, crossing her arms with a teasing authority.

Both girls froze, a mixture of shock and guilt flashing across their faces. Mia, with her dark hair framing her face, managed a sheepish grin, while Ava’s eyes widened, panic setting in as she quickly dropped her hand from the door.

“Um, nothing!” the first daughter, Ava, replied quickly, looking guilty.

“We were just, uh…” Mia stammered, her face pale.

Billie held up a hand, interrupting the girls’ stuttering excuses. “I can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she said, her tone playful yet firm.

Ava exchanged a nervous look with Mia. “What’s the easy way?” she asked hesitantly.

“If you want to go out, just ask. I might surprise you and say yes!” Billie replied with a grin, softening the moment. “But if you try to sneak out on me, it means I’ll have to wake up your mother—which, believe me, is the hard way.”

The twins exchanged dubious looks, the fear of waking Y/N settling in their minds. Y/N was known for her fierce protectiveness and would undoubtedly ground them for a month if she discovered their late-night plans.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” Billie pressed, amusement glinting in her eyes.

Mia groaned dramatically. “Mom, we’re not trying to be sneaky! We just wanted a little freedom.”

Billie softened her gaze and walked closer. “I get it,” she said gently. “You two are growing up, and I completely understand wanting to hang out with your friends. But you know I worry about you.”

Ava took a deep breath, sensing the chance to speak her truth. “We just want to feel like we can make our own choices, Mom. Just this once?”

Billie considered their words, her maternal instincts battling with the desire to keep them safe. After a moment of silence, she sighed and smiled. “Okay, how about this: if you promise to be back by midnight, I’ll let you go—but you have to text me every hour. Deal?”

Ava’s face lit up with excitement, and Mia nodded vigorously. “Deal! Thank you, Mom!”

Billie chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and nostalgia for their shared moments. “Now go on. Have fun, but remember to be responsible. And if anything goes wrong, call me. I’m always just a text away.”

As the twins slipped out the door, elated and relieved, Billie couldn’t help but shake her head, chuckling softly to herself. She couldn’t help but feel a mixture of pride and nostalgia. Raising teenagers was a challenge, but with the right balance of trust and guidance, she knew they’d be just fine.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n

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holyblonded · 2 months ago

Text

consequences of my actions | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and kenza have to deal with the repercussions of the night before

warnings: none(?)

notes: italics are spanish or Catalan; sorry for the wait i needed a break after the results of the election (we are cooked!) 😍

THE FEELING ON THE SUN AND THE SOFT HUM OF WHATEVER JULIO IGLESIAS SONG WAS CURRENTLY PLAYING, WOKE PAIGE UP FROM HER PEACEFUL SLUMBER.

Paige could tell she was in Kenza's apartment as the distinct aroma of coco butter and lavender circulated the room. The blonde's feet touched the cold floor and she was greeted by the few month old Cane Corso puppy that she and Kenza rescued from a frat house. Paige picked up Draco and carried him to the living area where Kenza was making breakfast. Setting the dog down to eat, Paige snuck up and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

"You always wake up so early," Paige complained as she glimpsed at the clock that read 7:24am. "Even on your off days."

Kenza smiled and she transferred the seasoned scrambled eggs to the plate and moved on to cook the salmon. "You know I need my early morning run."

Paige did know that, as it was a habit the girl picked up from her Mami. Kenza and Diana wake up bright and early at 5am to go for a daily run. Whenever her Diana held basketball camps, the same ones Paige attended, the camp would go on the run and it's safe to say Paige is not a morning person. Paige also knew she kept these runs up in Barcelona when she would send her morning pictures of her running to a cafe to get a drink.

Shaking her head at the thought, Paige kissed Kenza's cheek before going to the record player and changing the vinyl to The Supremes. Kenza laughed when Paige danced her was back to island where Kenza set their food down.

Paige grabbed Kenza's hand and pulled the girl to her before anchoring her free hand on the brunette's waist. The pair danced to Someday We'll Be Together. As Paige looked down at Kenza laughing as they clumsily tripped over their feet many times

The two sat at Kenza's island eating area, the freshly cooked breakfast, and the sunlight that streamed through the blinds and onto their skin. Paige's eyes seemed to unintentionally pierce through Kenza's soul while admiring her.

"Paige, you're gonna piss me all the way off if you keep staring at me,” Kenza said in such a sweet tone, "Wack ass blue eyes."

Paige couldn't help but laugh at the out of pocket comment before standing up and taking their plates to the sink. "I hear you, Kenny but we gotta go to the vet remember."

IMESSAGE

real madrid haters 🦅

pro yapper (jaheem)

gavi lover (leo)

mind witch (erykah)

evil twin (gavi)

lioness

KENZ

DID YOU SEE TSR

evil twin

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SEND IT

pro yapper

aye kenza you gotta get your

lick back and punch that nigga

evil twin

i’m with jaheem

mind witch

NOT THE CURRENT

CONCERN

lioness

ONG

EVERYONE THINKS

YOU AND PAIGE ARE DATING

.... are you 👀

pro yapper

wait a cotton picking minute

they weren't dating all this time?

lioness

...why are you even the gc 🫥

KENZ RESPOND

pro yapper

y'all know she ain't gonna

respond

she's at the vet rn

check her lo

mind witch

WHY DIDNT YOU SAY

THAT EARLIER

pro yapper

alr y'all gonna piss me off

Kenza sighed as she was on the phone with her manager that was rapidly speaking Catalan. Kenza toyed with a magazine at the vet's office, waiting for Draco.

"Caterina, please calm down. You're in town at the office, right? I'll swing by after the vet appointment and we can get it all sorted out, mkay?" Kenza responded in Catalan and decided not to give the older woman a chance to respond. "Great! Bye, love you." Kenza hung up and threw her head back with a groan, running her hands across her face. She glanced at her phone, seeing the Barcelona group chat blow up, likely teasing the baby of the group about the situation. Kenza looked across the room where Paige stood, seemingly dealing with the same situation with her manager.

"Draco has officially gotten his five month shots," the vet announced to Paige and Kenza. With Paige still on the phone, Kenza got up to grab Draco who was seemingly excited as he got a new toy.

"Draco! Were you a good boy?" Kenza crouched down to pet the overly energetic dog as he basically tried to climb her.

"Just make sure to schedule his next appointment," the vet told Paige, who just got off the phone and was standing behind Kenza and Draco.

The pair thanked the vet and strolled to the Kenza's Porsche Cayenne in the parking garage. Paige opened the door for Kenza before putting Draco in her lap.

"My manager and your manager want to meet together," Paige told the girl as she started the car. Paige always drove when it was just her and Kenza. Mostly because Paige was afraid of the way Kenza drove, but also for safety purposes.

Kenza groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day, "Who even recorded that video? This is dumb."

"You come to America to further your education. Yet somehow, you get into more trouble here than Barcelona!" Caterina scolded Kenza like a toddler who drew on the walls. Caterina has been Kenza's manager since she started at La Masia and started to see Kenza as her first born after a while. That being said, whenever Kenza made poor decisions, she got a lecture not only from Alexia but Caterina too. "Nena, do you need another media training course? Because you might be asking for it at this point!"

Kenza stayed silent ask Paige and her manager walked in, making Caterina take a seat, "After this, you will call Alexia and explain to her."

Kenza's head shot up to look her manager in the eye for the first time since she got there. "Cat, no."

"Paige, Kenza, while the situation that occurred isn't a big deal when you look at it, the media has made it one. But, we have found a way to turn this into positive press." Caterina started, crossing her legs, "Both fanbases seem to like you together and we are going to profit on that. In order to outweigh the negativity of the situation, the two of you are going to fake date."

#golden girl series #barca femini x reader #paige bueckers x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas x teen!reader #fc barcelona #barcelona femeni

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mattslolita · 11 months ago

Text

bitch from da souf - c. sturniolo

black!fem reader x chris, backshots, oral ( fem receving )

do not interact if you're a minor!

"i throw that ass back to see if he gon catch it."

"hello everyone, today we're filming-"

"it's the deaf, mute, and blind baking challenge, period!" y/n grins at the camera, causing nick to glare at her playfully and slap her arm, "nick, what the fuck?"

"that was supposed to be my line," nick said, a fake annoyed tone, causing y/n to roll her eyes playfully.

"anyway!" matt begins, already sensing an oncoming play fight between the two best friends, "we need to decide who's what."

"i call deaf!" y/n grinned, holding her hand up as she looked at the three triplets, "i have the best music taste, let's not even lie."

"facts," nick agrees, pointing at y/n, "let's be mute together."

"you both just want an excuse to listen to music and not do shit," matt muses as he crosses his arms, causing y/n to nudge him playfully.

"you just mad cause you not gon be my deaf twin," y/n shrugs comically, causing matt and chris to roll their eyes.

"i guess i'll be mute then," chris says, and y/n snorts, causing him to glare at her, "what was that about?"

y/n just shrugged, a small smirk on her lips as she helped set up the ingredients. "it's just about time yo ass is finally gon be shut up."

matt's eyes go wide and nick holds back a laugh, whilst chris pokes his tongue inside his cheek and shakes his head at y/n, going to stand next to her as he bends down in her ear. "i can think of a million ways to shut you up, ma."

y/n cheeks heat up, giving chris's shoulder a smack as she gestures to the camera that was currently recording them — he just smirks and goes to get a blindfold while nick hands y/n a set of headphones.

y/n and nick grin at each other as the both of them have their headphones on, chris giving them a look as he's helping tie the blindfold around matt's eyes.

"OKAY, LET'S START!" y/n shouts, clapping her hands together, as she moves to lean on the counter next to chris, "yo matt, open this shit up!"

"oh my gosh, it's our song!" nick says to y/n excitedly, causing the girl's eyes to widen as she grins widely.

"oh bitch, period!" y/n says, beginning to dance as in the party by flo milli is playing in her ears, "yeah bitch i got yo man, since you bad hoe, come catch him if you can!"

matt taps on y/n shoulders as the girl begins dancing. "Y/N, HELP ME WITH THIS!"

y/n turns to matt with a grin, still dancing as she's trying to read his lips. "NO MATT, WE NOT COOKING FISH!"

chris shakes his head as he watches the girl, ultimately deciding to go and help matt once he sees matt throw his hands up in frustration.

"DICKS UP WHEN I STEP IN THE PARTY, YO MAIN DUDE WANNA FEEL ON MY BODY!" y/n and nick sing, dancing with each other, "AND IF I TAKE HIM BITCH, I WON'T SAY I'M SORRY!"

"i do what i want, don't report to nobody!" y/n sings, dancing next to chris, shooting the boy a grin as he's trying to help matt with the batter.

"nick, preheat the fucking oven!" matt yells at the oldest triplet, causing him to look at y/n in confusion as he's still singing.

y/n goes and playfully pushes chris to side, beginning to help matt with the batter. "MATT, I'M GONNA HELP YOU WITH THIS BATTER!"

"i've been telling you to do that for five fucking minutes!" matt yells back to her, and oblivious to his obvious annoyed tone, y/n just smiles at him and gives him a thumbs up.

y/n's eyes go wide as she points at nick again, a big grin taking over her face. "THIS IS MY SHIT, STOP PLAYING!"

"PERIOD!" nick yells, pointing back at y/n, as she starts dancing rather provacatively.

"i throw dat ass back to see if he gon catch it, ain't athletic but it's tennis for the necklace," y/n raps, swaying her hips back and forth.

chris suddenly stops what he's doing as he watches y/n glide her hips back and forth in the open space near the oven and sink, nick hyping her up as she does so — he's also ignored matt's pleas to help as all he can focus on is the way her ass moves up and down as she's dancing.

"ay where that cash at, i stack it like tetris!" she continues rapping, now seemingly in her own world as she continues dancing, "real gutter bitch, real plugs and connections."

chris still had his eyes on her, watching the way nick and her giggled as she continued dancing — she accidentally bumped into matt, causing the boy to groan and shake his head.

"SORRY, MATT!" y/n giggles, hugging the middle triplet then ruffling his hair, and he pushes her off of him causing her to roll her eyes.

"FIRST I MAKE HIM EAT IT TILL HE LOCK JAW," y/n continues rapping, throwing her hands up as she round the kitchen counter, "GIVE IT TO HIM GOOD, KNOCK A NIGGA SOCKS OFF!"

"i run it up, they busy runnin they mouth!" nick raps with y/n, hyping her up, as she goes back to where is, beginning to throw it back again.

"I'M A REAL ASS, RICH ASS, BITCH FROM THA SOUTH!" y/n raps, as she swaying whilst chris was next to her, the boy having had his breath caught in his throat.

chris was well aware that y/n and him were only best friends, but it was hard to look at her like that when since they had first met he'd get so sexually frustrated around her. of course, chris never knew that y/n had always found him attractive too, and would have to refrain from being around him sometimes due to this fact.

like right now, chris had the strong urge to just bend y/n over the kitchen table and fuck her from behind, making her scream his name — he shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, going back to focusing trying to clean up the mess they made.

chris watched as y/n was still bopping her head to the song as she grabbed the tray away from matt, walking over to the oven — he watched the brownskin girl as she set the tray atop, then she bent over to open the oven.

he didn't even realize what he was doing until he reached y/n, gently taking her hips and pulling her ass to him in the hit it from behind motion.

"what the fuck- CHRIS!" y/n says, her eyes wide as she turns to look at him, shock evident on her face.

"couldn't help myself ma, with that ass shaking so pretty in front of me," chris whispers in her ear, pulling his bandana down slightly so she could hear him.

he gives her a wink and slips it back on, nick having watched the two with raised eyebrows. "great, now i have to edit that cause the fans will go crazy."

y/n felt her cheeks get hot at the action chris did, and the fact that he just walked away from her like he didn't just do that — the worst part was that she liked it, she wished he would've done more than that.

"FUCK!" nick yells, causing matt to throw his hands up in irritation, "WE FORGOT TO BUY FUCKING OVEN MITTS!"

"are you kidding me?" matt says angrily, taking his blindfold from off his eyes, looking at his brothers and best friend in shock, "who was in charge of that?"

the three brothers all turned towards y/n, who had finally looked up from where she had put the batch in, giving them confused expressions. "WHAT?"

"you forgot the buy the oven mitts!" matt says, throwing his hands up at her.

"shit, you said what, matt?" y/n asks with a sweet smile, taking the headphones off.

"you- just nevermind," matt sighs, running his hand along his face, motioning to nick, "nick, let's go and buy it real quick."

"fine, whatever," nick says with an eyeroll, taking the headphones off and pausing the music, "please don't do anything stupid while we're gone!"

"the fuck would we do?" y/n asks with a confused expression, and matt shoots her a look of amusement.

soon matt and nick are headed out the door, and y/n lets out a sigh — when she turns around, chris is standing right behind her, his usual smirk on his face as he looks down at the girl with hungry eyes. y/n's breath hitches in her throat at the way he's looking at her, causing her to back into the kitchen table.

"i was serious about what i said earlier, you know," chris says in a low rasp, putting both hands on the counter behind y/n, trapping her in between, "about knowing ways to shut you up."

"then why you ain't did it yet?" y/n challenges, feeling the pool already forming in between legs, as she almost lost balance.

"as much as i want to ma, i wanna have a taste of you instead," chris growls, his large hands going to grab the shorter girl and hoisting her onto the counter.

she immediately pulls him in by the neck and attaches her lips to his hungrily, both of them battling for dominance — chris pulls away slightly, his lips already red and swollen as he eyes the girl greedily, then he reattaches his lips to her neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it.

he reaches down towards the waistband of her shorts, tugging at it as it snapped, causing a low gasp to escape her lips as she squeezes her brown thighs together. "fuck, i need you so bad."

"lean back mama, i'm gonna make you feel so good," chris whispers in her ear, pressing her stomach back.

y/n leans back and scoots back on the counter, giving him enough access to practically rip her shorts down from under her — he was immediately met with y/n's already glistening pussy, causing his cock to stiffen at the sight.

"look at you, not wearing any fuckin panties," he chuckles lowly, spreading her legs apart whilst keeping eye contact with her, "such a pretty pussy, ma."

"p-please, chris," y/n whimpers, "i need-"

without warning, chris dives in between y/n's legs, not wasting time in licking a stripe up her sensitive bundle of nerves, emitting a moan from the girl. he greedily latches his hands onto het thighs, pulling her closer to him as if she'll somehow slip from his grasp.

"fuck chris, that feels so good," y/n moans out, throwing her head back as her hands find themselves tangled into his brown locks.

he continues pleasuring her with his tongue, burying his face deep inside her pussy as he flicks his tongue on it every which way — y/n lets out moans, filling up the empty space of the kitchen.

"oh fuck, you taste so good," chris says breathlessly, pulling away, his face glistening in her juices.

he dives back in, reveling in the sweet taste of her, knowing that nobody could ever make her feel as good as he is in this moment.

"chris, i-i'm close," y/n moans out, her head still thrown back.

this causes him to finally take his face out of her pussy, a smirk on his face as he does so, which causes her to look at him in confusion. "w-why would you stop?"

"cause you're gonna cum on this cock, ma," chris said, "now bend that ass over."

y/n obliges, getting up from the counter and going to turn around — chris quickly pulls his pants down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach as it leaks with pre-cum.

he lines himself up with y/n, using her juices as lube as he strokes it once, causing a groan to escape his lips and a moan to slip out her mouth.

"just put in already!" y/n begs.

chris grins as he slowly pushes inside of her, a moan falling from both of their lips. "fuck, you're so tight."

chris begins to move in and out of her at a slow pace at first, the soft slapping of skin can be heard — y/n moans at the feeling of her best friend going in and out of her, having been waiting for this moment for forever.

chris quickly picks up his pace, now slamming into her from behind — y/n grips the kitchen counter in front of her, her breasts bouncing as he fucks into her.

"oh my gosh, fuck chris!" y/n whines out, as he goes to attach his lips to her neck, one of his hands going to cup her breast as the other stays on her waist.

"fuck ma, you feel so fucking good around my cock like this," chris pants out, squeezing her nipple in between his index and thumb fingers.

"i-i'm so close, baby," y/n moans out, throwing her head back, "i'm gonna cum..."

"cum on my cock ma, give it to me," chris rasps, still pounding into her from behind.

y/n releases her juices onto chris's cock, moaning his name as she does so — that's enough for chris too, as he shoots his loud out inside of her, moaning her name as he does.

he helps the both of them ride out their highs, then chris pulls out of y/n, both catching their breaths as the reality of what happened sets in.

"fuck, i've wanted to do that for so long," chris breathes out, helping y/n put her shorts back on.

"you ain't know how long i wanted you to," y/n giggles, looking up at chris, "is this gonna change shit between us?"

"nah," chris says, smiling down at the girl, pulling his pants up, "but let's just keep this between us, alright?"

"you right, matt gon throw a hissy fit if he ever found out," y/n laughed, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the space they occupied.

chris sent a smack to y/n's ass, causing her to gasp and turn to him with a playful glare. "didn't you touch my ass enough?"

"who says i ever got enough of it?" chris grins at her, licking his lips as he walks over to her and squeezes her ass.

"yeah, you definitely an ass dude."

@luverboychris , @mrssturnioloo , @mattsturniolosleftnut 💕 gfs ily

omgggg look who finally wrote some more smut !!😩😩😩 i got hella requests too, so im excited for y'all to read that too ! im so sorry not uploading any, i've lost a little motivation for it, but im tryna bounce back.💌

#Spotify #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #smutty smut smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo

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