#Flutter 1.2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madebycloud · 4 months ago

Text

Drowning in Blue

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬��𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you are the chosen one—cursed by a prophecy that will decide the fate of the wizarding world, but the waters of your life have turned to poison, pulling you into a fate worse than death. (Harry Potter AU) requested by anon words: 12.7k warnings/themes: FUCK j.k. rowling, fluff, friends to ??? to ???, hogwarts, slow burn af, soulmates, ravenclaw!jinx, gryffindor!reader, sleep paralysis notes: this is an au of jinx x reader based off the harry potter franchise (but if you haven’t watched/read it don’t worry you’ll be able to read the story just fine!) i do not promote jkr and her transphobia, i wrote this for fun — ✩ part 1.1, part 1.2, part 1.3, part 2.1, part 2.???

“[YEAR 1] The Girl Who Lived”

“Ah, Professor LeBlanc,” Vander greets, eyeing the tabby cat and flashing a smile. The tabby cat then transforms into the pale woman he knows as Professor LeBlanc, with shoulder-length hair and wearing a cloak colored dark green and adorned with red detailing and golden accents.

“How did you know it was me?” Professor LeBlanc asks, walking beside Vander in the quiet neighborhood.

“Let's just say I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly,” Vander answers, readjusting his cloak.

“You'd be stiff too if you sat on a brick wall for that long,” LeBlanc retorts. “Are the whispers on the wind accurate, Vander?”

“Unfortunately… yes,” Vander confirms, glancing sidelong at the pale professor.

“And the girl?”

“Professor Talis is bringing her.”

“Do you believe it's wise to place such trust in Professor Talis?”

“Professor Talis is one of the most responsible professors I've had the pleasure of working with,” Vander replies, defending the younger professor against the questioning.

The two professors come to a stop in front of a mansion.

Suddenly, a loud motor sound pierced the night, causing both professors to look up at the sky.

The bike lands with a screech on the cobblestone street, and a man with short, dark brown hair swings himself off the bike. He lifts his goggles off his eyes, revealing his face, and walks up to LeBlanc and Vander.

“Professor Vander, Professor LeBlanc,” he greets, nodding to the two professors.

“Professor Talis,” Vander greets in return, returning the nod. There is a brief moment of silence before the headmaster asks, “Where is the girl?”

Jayce hums, walking over as she holds the baby wrapped in a bundle over to Vander.

“Little lady fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake her.” He gently places the bundled-up child into Vander's waiting arms. “There you go,” he murmurs, watching as the larger professor adjusts his grip on the baby.

Vander looks down at the sleeping baby in his arms, admiring her face with her eyelashes fluttering with each breath.

“Vander, do you really think it's safe, leaving her with the Kirammans?” LeBlanc asks, eyeing the girl.

Vander nods his head. “The girl will assuredly find safety within their care.” He hesitates, his voice quieting. “Besides, we have no other options. The Kirammans are the only family she has…”

LeBlanc sighs silently and nods once. “I suppose you are right.” The cat animagus professor turns to look at professor Talis. “Was the trip… difficult?”

Jayce runs a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it out. “Uh, I wouldn't say so,” he answers, avoiding eye contact.

LeBlanc hums noncommittally. “You have a bit of motor grease on your cheek.”

Jayce reaches up and touches his cheek, feeling the grease smeared across it. “Oh, yeah, I must have gotten that while working on my bike before I left.”

LeBlanc shakes her head silently, turning her attention to the sleeping baby in Vander's arms. She eyes the scar on her forehead. “Is that where-?”

“Yes,” Vander replies with a solemn nod, his gaze following hers to the scar. “It will stay with her forever.”

“Couldn't you do anything about it, Vander?”

Vander contemplates the words. “I could have,” he says slowly, “but it is unwise to meddle with the past.” He adjusts his grip on the child as she begins to squirm.

The three professors approach the large door of the Kiramman estate. Vander carefully lays the baby down on the doormat, and LeBlanc pulls out a letter and places it on top of the baby's blanket-swaddled form.

“I wish her well,” LeBlanc says, looking down at the baby.

“Good luck, little one,” Vander murmurs, crouching and gently stroking the baby's cheek with a large finger.

—

“My letter finally arrived!” you exclaim, running down the stairs towards your cousin who's sitting at the table eating breakfast.

Caitlyn's eyes go wide as they land on the envelope in your hand. “Really?!” she asks excitedly.

You hold up the thick envelope to her view, still panting as you try to catch your breath. “I wonder what house I'm going to be put in,” you say to yourself, finger tracing over the red wax.

“Probably Ravenclaw,” she replies, going back to eating her scrambled eggs, “That's the house our family is usually sorted to.”

You purse your lips in thought. “Maybe, but then again, maybe not.” You turn your attention to the letter, reading it aloud.

Dear Student,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Emillia LeBlanc

The Deputy Headmistress

“Looks about right,” your cousin says, sipping her tea. “That's the same letter I got when I was your age.” She smiles at you fondly.

You carefully place the letter down, sitting down in the chair next to her. “Are you going to help me with shopping for school stuff?”

Caitlyn nods. “Of course, silly. What's family for?”

Your heart swells with love for your cousin. You've known your cousin your entire life, and she's acted like a big sister to you. “Thanks, Cait.”

—

It's a bright and sunny day in London, but you feel just a bit chilly. Maybe it's just nerves...

You and Caitlyn walk down the streets, your letter still clutched in your hand, rereading it a hundredth time since its arrival.

“All students must be equipped with one standard size 2 pewter cauldron and may bring, if they desire, either an owl, a cat, or a toad.” You turn to your cousin. “Could we find all this in London?”

“Most likely.” Caitlyn says. “We'll just have to find the right stores. Don't worry, I know all the best ones.”

The two of you stop, and you stare up at the sign above the old, worn-down pub.

“Leaky Couldron?” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Doesn't look like the... friendliest place to be.”

Caitlyn gives you the side-eye. “Looks can be deceiving,” she murmurs but doesn't elaborate.

You follow her as she walks into the dingy pub, glancing back behind you.

Inside is dim and smells of ale and sweat. You're pretty sure you spied a rat disappearing behind a crate of butterbeer. You can spot a handful of people sitting at tables, drinking in the early morning hours.

“Ah, miss prefect,” a gravelly voice calls out.

You glance over to the source of the voice, a man who looks older than dust, his face covered in scars. He walks towards you, limping as he goes.

Caitlyn gives a polite nod in recognition. “Professor Singed.”

He glances in your direction, studying you curiously before a crooked smile spreads across his face. “Who's this young lady with you?”

Caitlyn puts a hand on your shoulder. “This-” she motions to you, “-is my cousin. She just received her letter, and we're here to get supplies.”

“Your cousin, you mean... the girl who lived...?” the man croaks out.

You look to Caitlyn for reassurance, and you frown when you spot the uncomfortable look she has.

The girl who lived.

“Yes,” she replies curtly. “She's my cousin.” Caitlyn's grip tightens on your shoulder.

Singed smiles, the scars on his face pulling in odd directions. “Lucky girl.”

You don't feel very lucky.

You catch the nod towards you as he straightens himself. “I'll be off now,” he rasps, shifting his gaze back to your cousin. “Have a lovely day, Miss Kiramman.” He turns and walks towards the door, disappearing.

Your cousin's hand relaxes, and she sighs. “Let's just go. We've got a lot of shopping to do.” Caitlyn nods towards the wall before walking towards it, you following close behind. “Professor Singed is my potions teacher.”

That professor was off... but what did he mean by the girl who lived?

“He looked old,” you say with a huff. And kind of ugly too, you leave out.

Caitlyn doesn't look back at you. “Don't mind him, Singed has always been... odd,” she says in the tone when someone is hiding something. “Let's just get your supplies, okay?”

You stop as the two of you stand in front of a concealed archway, built from bricks that look to be held together with nothing but luck and prayers. Caitlyn pulls out her wand, flicking it towards the wall.

The bricks shift and become transparent, and you're now able to see the street on the other side. The street stretches out, lined by shops and filled with people. People that are wearing capes and cloaks, carrying cats and toads and owls...

Wizards and Witches. They're everywhere.

“Woah… How'd you do that?”

Caitlyn puts her wand back into her pocket. “Simple magic,” she says before stepping through as you follow behind.

The shops are no ordinary shops that you'd find in ordinary towns. They sell potion ingredients, a broom store, a shop selling owls.

There's a group of people walking past you, all dressed in black robes, and your eyes catch sight of a girl who has chin-length blue hair walking backwards as she enthusiastically talks to a pink-haired girl.

Caitlyn glances down at you. “Don't stare,” she whispers, and you turn your head and act like you weren't just ogling the strange people walking past you.

You both stop at the tall, white building. There are words carved into the stone over the door: Gringotts Bank.

“First things first,” she starts, pointing towards the bank. “You need to get your money.”

“...my money?”

“Oh-” she remembers something, her eyes going wide as your words remind her. “I forgot to tell you. Once you get inside, a professor is going to help you. Professor Jayce Talis.”

You look at your cousin, then the large bank.

Caitlyn pats your shoulder. “You'll be fine. I have some things to do while you're in there.”

“...okay,” you breathe out. “Okay.”

You walk towards the tall double doors of the bank. Caitlyn helps you push the door open, and you step inside.

The inside of the Gringotts Bank is...

It looks like a palace that a king would live in rather than a bank.

There's a giant crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling, and fold covered pillars hold the bank up.

There are at least thirty goblins sitting at desks on both sides of you, counting coins and going over paperwork. One or two look up at you, their faces disinterested as they go back to their work.

You look around, trying to figure out what to do next. Then you hear a deep, kind voice.

“Ah, so it is you.”

You spin around quickly, eyes catching on the tall man who's standing there. He has no wrinkles, no blemishes on his face. Kind eyes and a warm honey-brown color look down at you.

“I am Professor Jayce Talis. You must be Caitlyn's cousin,” he says, walking over and crouching down. He offers his hand to you. You take his hand, and he smiles.

“You look just like-” he pauses in the middle of his words, then quickly composes himself when he realizes he said it aloud. He stands up and quickly steers the conversation in a different direction.

“Well, let's get you sorted out, shall we?” He gestures to a goblin sitting at a desk.

Jayce takes you over to a counter at the end, and a goblin turns to look at the two of you. The goblin has sharp, pointed teeth and a hook nose, and his dark eyes look up at Jayce with annoyance.

“Professor Talis,” the goblin greets, his voice dry and scratchy.

Jayce chuckles, leaning on the counter. “Still counting coins, I see?”

The goblin sneers and grumbles at Jayce. “Always.” Then he looks at you. “Who's this then?”

Professor Talis places a hand on your back and pushes you forward a bit. “This is Cassandra Kiramman's niece.”

“Niece…” he repeats, looking you up and down. He turns to look behind him, scanning several scrolls placed on a counter behind him. “...name?”

Jayce answers the goblin with your name. “Just here to collect her galleons,” he adds.

“Does the kid have her key, professor?” the goblin asks.

“Oh!” Professor Talis rummages through his pockets, searching for something. “Where is it... ah!” he pulls out a gold key. “Here it is.” He hands the key to the goblin but then seems to remember something. His hand reaches in his pocket again and pulls out a letter. “Professor Vander gave me this,” he says, presenting the letter to the goblin.

The goblin takes the key and the letter from Professor Talis' hands, then looks at the golden key. He looks over the letter, skimming it over with his sharp eyes. “Hmm…”

Jayce smiles at the goblin. “Is that a I need to see her vault hmm, or a we need to sort something out hmm?”

The goblin just looks at Jayce and narrows his eyes, turning around to his stack of scrolls again.

“I'm guessing that means vaults,” Professor Talis whispers to you.

—

You, Professor Talis, and a goblin named Griphook are riding in a mine cart down a deep and dark tunnel.

Finally, the cart stops abruptly, causing you to lurch forward, then Griphook jumps out. “Vault 687,” he grunts, holding out his hand expectantly.

Professor Talis wastes no time in handing over a shiny, golden lamp.

You and Professor Talis follow behind Griphook in the dark, the small lamp the only thing lighting your way forward.

You can hear the steady drip of water and rats scurrying around in the shadows.

Griphook stretches out his hand. “Key, professor?”

Jayce quickly places the key in the goblin's hand, giving it a quick twist. With a loud click, the vault door swings open, revealing piles of gold inside.

You blink a few times, staring at the piles of galleons in your vault… how much is all this?

Professor Talis chuckles behind you and places one hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Never thought your parents would leave you with nothing, did you?”

—

Griphook calls out, “Vault 713!”

You turn to Professor Talis and ask, “What's in there, professor?”

Jayce pats your head. “Can't tell you that, kid. Some very secret Hogwarts business.”

Secret.

You sigh, the mystery of vault 713 intriguing you.

Griphook tells you both to step back, and you obey, watching as the goblin slides a single long finger down the silver door, causing it to melt away.

You and Professor Talis step into the vault, the small space feeling cool and dark. In the center of the vault sits a small, white, stone-looking package. Jayce picks it up, holding it carefully. He then turns to you.

“Listen, kid,” he starts, “you can't tell anyone about this, okay?”

You nod, not sure what's in the little stone package, but you're curious.

Professor Talis smiles. He pockets the package and pats your head again. “Good, I knew I could count on you.”

—

“Books, parchment, quills, ink, cauldron... and uh…” You walk down the alley as you recite your list.

Caitlyn nods, looking over the list and checking the items off one by one.

The professor follows behind you two, explaining to Caitlyn that he needs to go with you since you, as a minor, require a guardian.

“...and a wand,” you continue, turning to Professor Talis. “I need a wand.”

“Of course.” Caitlyn glances over the shops that line the alley and points to a smaller looking store. “That store. Ollivanders.”

Jayce hums. “I think we'll stop by Ollivander's before heading to Madam Malkin. You'll get your wand first, then we'll continue down the list.”

The three of you continue walking until you come to a small shop that is much less crowded than the ones you have passed.

“Why don't you run along there and wait?” The professor begins, “Cait and I just have one more thing to do. It won't be long.” He pats your shoulder as he ushers your cousin away, leaving you to approach the small, crooked shop.

You hear him murmur something, but you're too far away to catch anything. You raise your eyes to the sign above the door. Ollivanders Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC.

Seems harmless enough.

You step into the dark store and look around, a fine layer of dust settling on everything, including the boxes stacked on the creaky floorboards.

“Hello?”

There's no one in the shop, only the silence and dust. Is anyone even here?

You walk towards the counter, reaching out and gently rapping your knuckles against the wood. “Hello?”

The silence is shattered by the old man, who you think is Ollivander, stepping out from the back of the store, drying his wrinkled hands on a cloth.

“Ah,” the old man says as he approaches you, his pale, silvery eyes staring at you. “I was expecting you.”

You watch silently as the old man hums to himself, his fingers trace over the boxes, searching for something.

He then pulls a box from the shelf. “It seems like only yesterday when your parents were in here getting their first wands, and now look at you.” He lifts the lid and draws a long, slender stick out of the box.

“13 inches, swishy, cherry with a horned serpent horn core.” Ollivander holds the wand out for you to take. “Give it a try.”

You wave the wand, but nothing happens. You swing it around in a small circle, but... still nothing. You move the wand as if you were drawing something across the-

CRACK!

Blue sparks fly out of the tip of the wand. You duck, bringing the wand close to your chest. You look up at the old man, and he smiles.

“Not quite.” The old man reaches out and gently takes the wand from you, turning back to the shelf.

He picks up a different box. “Eleven inches, walnut, swishy, unicorn tail hair core.” Ollivander hands you the new wand.

You take it and hold it in your hands, looking at the smooth shaft and carefully crafted hilt. You glance up at the old man, who nods.

You swing the wand around the same as the other one, nothing happens until-

CRACK!

A vase sitting on the shelf across from you suddenly explodes, sending glass shards everywhere.

You look back at the old man. He smiles once again. “Don't worry. We'll find the right one eventually. It's just a matter of time and patience.”

You hand the old man the wand, and he sets it aside.

The old man hums to himself as he takes another box off the shelf. He opens it up but stops, eyeing the wand. “Mmm,” he muses, shaking his head. “No, I don't think that's the one.”

He sets the box down and turns to look at you, an idea brewing in his head. “I wonder…” he murmurs as he rummages through the box. He withdraws a slender wand and hands it to you. “Try it.”

The second your fingers wrap around the handle, you hear the wand hum inside your skull. You flex your fingers, testing how it feels… perfect.

The shop feels louder, sounds and smells coming at you like you've never experienced before.

Your eyes dart around the room before landing on the old man, who scratches his head as he examines the wand in your hand. “Curious indeed,” he mumbles, “very curious.”

You raise an eyebrow at the old man's response, hoping he'd say something. You clear your throat, but Ollivander doesn't even look up, his eyes still fixed on the wand.

“I remember every wand I've ever sold,” he starts, eyeing your new wand. “Just so happens that this wand's phoenix made another feather, just one other to it.” His eyes lock on the scar on your forehead. “Funny thing, that the brother wand to that one-” he motions to your wand “-is the very one that gave you that mark on your head.” He points a bony finger at your forehead.

Your scar tingles and you reach a hand up to touch it. You’ve never been too fond of the scar, especially since it makes you... different.

Brother wand.

Sounds weird, honestly. Like it's some sort of… prophecy.

You drop your hand from your scar, looking back at the old man. “And who owned that wand?” you question, your fingers tracing the shaft of the wand.

“It belonged to the greatest wizard who ever lived. Before his fall from grace,” he explains, narrowing his eyes at you. “And the phoenix did only ever give one other feather.” The old man taps his chin, his mouth twisting in thought. “It's curious how such an instrument of destruction ended up in your hand, isn't it?”

You look down at the wand again, unsure of what to do. “It's just a wand, though, right?” you say with a frown before looking back to the old man. “It's not like it's evil or anything.”

The old man seems intrigued, a smile growing on his face. “No dear, wands don't hold any form of power of their own. Their power comes from the one who wields it.”

He steps forward, bending down so he's eye level with you. “It's the wizard or witch who decides what their wands do, and if wands are capable of great wrong… they are also capable of great right.”

“Just remember this,” he adds before standing up, “The wand chooses the wizard.” He then turns and begins tidying up the shelves, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You turn over the wand in your hand, examining every detail. Something tells you this is... important, it's important somehow.

Then, you hear a knock at the window. Turning around, you see your cousin outside the shop, waving through the glass. Professor Talis stands beside her, holding a cat in his arms. You walk over and open the door.

“Well?” Jayce asks, looking over your shoulder at the wandmaker. “Did our little newcomer find a match?”

You nod, holding the wand in the air. “Yeah,” you reply, turning to Professor Talis. “Found one on like, the third try. It kinda hums.”

He chuckles. “That's a good thing, means it's a good match.”

—

The very one that gave you that mark on your head.

That's what the old man said.

Brother wand.

It's weird to describe a wand as a brother. A little creepy too.

Does that mean it's connected to you in some way?

You hear Professor Talis' voice and snap out of your thoughts. “Huh?” You blink a few times, looking up from your own bowl of soup. You've barely touched yours.

“You're being awfully quiet,” he prods. “Something on your mind?” he asks, looking back and forth between you and Caitlyn.

You reach a tentative hand up to touch the scar on your forehead, your fingers tracing over the jagged edges. “He…” you pause, looking up at your cousin, “...he killed my parents, didn't he?”

Caitlyn pauses mid-bite.

Professor Talis stops eating, his eyes slowly moving to you.

You think you've hit a sensitive spot, and the room feels strangely still.

Jayce shoots a cautionary look at your cousin, then looks down at his unfinished soup. “...yes,” he responds finally, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Your parents… they died at his hands.”

Caitlyn takes a pause from her bread to steal another glance at you, her face twisted with obvious guilt. You don't really know why she feels guilty, but it's pretty apparent.

You lower your hand slowly from your forehead. “Why though?” you ask no one in particular. “Why did he do it? What did they do?”

Professor Talis takes a deep breath, collecting himself for a moment.

“First-” he starts slowly, being careful about what he's saying. “-you need to understand something. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago... there was one wizard who... went as bad as bad can get…”

He trails off, looking at your cousin, but she doesn't pay much attention. His eyes dart over to your own, and he pauses. “And his name was… his name… his…”

“Maybe if you wrote it down?” you suggest.

“No, I can't spell it. His name was…” The professor hesitates, uncomfortable, but he finally musters the courage to finish his sentence. “Swain,” he whispers.

Swain.

You blink a few times, rolling the name over in your head. Where have you heard that name before? your aunt never mentioned anything about this ‘Swain’ in your childhood.

“Swain?” you repeat.

Jayce flinches at your words, holding a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he hushes as he scans the Leaky Cauldron, watching the shadows carefully. He's checking to see if anyone is listening in. Once he's satisfied, he leans back into his chair, taking a long glance around the area.

Professor Talis stirs his soup around with his spoon, staring down into his bowl. “Back then... they were hard times,” he mutters. “Bad times.” After a long pause, he lets the spoon plop back into his soup.

“Some wizards fell to the wrong path,” he continues on, “He gathered some followers. Brought them to the dark side.”

“Your parents... tried to stop him,” his eyes meet yours. “But none of them survived once he set his mind to killing them.”

Professor Talis goes silent for a moment, staring down at his soup again. The spoon swirls around in the soup, circling in a whirlpool of broth and vegetables.

“No one lived,” he whispers, looking up at you. “Except…” Professor Talis pauses before sighing deeply. “Except you.”

You take a long draw of air. “...me?”

Caitlyn nods, finally finding her words. “That scar on your forehead…” her fingers flutter to her own forehead, tracing a line on her own skin, as if tracing the path of your scar. “It's not just any old cut. It's the mark left behind by a dark curse. A curse that only the most evil wizards use.”

“But... what happened to Swa-... to You-Know-Who?”

Caitlyn looks at the professor, who stirs his soup contemplatively, then looks back at you. “Well, some say he died.”

“Codswallop in my opinion,” Professor Talis cuts in. “Nope, I'm not one to bet against that snake. He's out there, and while he's tired now, I don't think that'll stop him for long.” He puts the spoon down and gives you a warm smile, although one tired from stress and worries. “But one thing's for damned sure…”

“...something about that night stumped him,” The professor murmurs. “That's why everybody knows your name. That's why your name rings across the land.” He lifts his spoon, pointing it at you. “You're the girl who lived.”

—

A month later…

“You... expect me to just run through the wall and I'll be in the Hogwarts Express?”

You stare at the wall between platforms 9 and 10, wondering if you've finally lost your marbles.

“Yep! That's how we do it here,” Caitlyn says as she leans against the stone wall with a laugh. “You just run, and you'll smash right into the platform.”

You look at her doubtfully.

She reaches over and pats your back, encouraging you to continue. “Go ahead and run at the wall. It's okay. You won't get hurt.”

You take a step back, looking at the solid wall. It's just a normal wall. Not only that, it's stone.

There is no way that running into a solid piece of brick will result in anything but you getting seriously hurt and winding up in an infirmary bed, surely.

You look at your cousin, who only nods in affirmation and motions for you to continue.

You hesitate, taking another glance at the wall. Then, with a deep breath, you decide to be bold. Boldly stupid, that is. You let out a grunt of determination before taking off at the wall.

You shut your eyes, bracing for the impact, and- and…

Something is odd. Or rather, nothing is there. You expected to slam right into the hard wall, but now you're...

You peek one eye open, then open your other.

You're standing in... a train station. But not any train station, it's a strangely vibrant platform filled with people walking around and talking with each other.

To your right, a large train sits, a train that looks rather regal. You have to crane your neck to look at its height, and then you have to crane your neck again to see the top of the smokestack, which is spewing out clouds of smoke.

Then the train whistles sharply. The sound is loud enough to ring in your ears and echoes throughout the station, causing everyone—you included—to flinch slightly in surprise.

People rush past you, boarding the train, disappearing into the various open doors.

Caitlyn's voice appears behind you. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” you reply, looking at your cousin.

She pats your shoulder. “Let's get on the train, then.”

It takes you and Cailtyn several minutes to get aboard the train, with how packed it is, and the two of you manage to find an unoccupied compartment.

You both sit down and take a deep breath as you catch your breath from running.

“You can put your stuff here,” she instructs, pointing to a few empty spots overhead. “There's plenty of space. It's probably better to put your stuff up there instead of keeping it down here where it can roll around. Wouldn't want to get squashed, would you?”

You do as Caitlyn says, shoving your trunk and other supplies into the overhead storage.

“There you go,” she says, looking around the compartment, “I'll be back. I've got something to take care of, you know, prefect business.” Caitlyn pats your shoulder. “I won't be long. Try not to do anything stupid.”

“I'll... try,” you say, watching her disappear out of the compartment door.

You sit down. Now that your cousin isn't here...

You're left all alone, and you shift in your seat. At first, you're just sitting there, admiring the interior of the train.

Then, the train starts to move.

You hear the whistle shriek again, the brakes shift, and suddenly the train lurches forward. Slowly, the train begins to speed up.

The train passes through the countryside, past rolling hills and dense forests.

It's peaceful you could almost fall asleep here... until-

“HI!”

“AH!-” you exclaim, before your brain catches up to your instincts.

You spin around to face the open compartment door and see a girl, probably the same age as you, with chin-length blue hair.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, not looking apologetic in fact, smiling slightly. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

The girl steps into the compartment, awkwardly shuffles into it, and plops herself on the seat opposite you.

You observe the stranger.

She's got blue hair. She's lean and pretty pale. She's also short, but it's hard to tell how short exactly while she's sitting down. She's shifting in her seat as well, not sitting still.

“I'm Powder... firstie, and you are...?”

You're still recovering from the startle but manage to get your brain working, though you still have no idea who this stranger is. Still, you reply with your name.

She repeats your name and looks like she's mulling it over in her mind. Then she snaps her fingers, as if she'd just remembered something. “So it's true! I mean, do you really have the... the...?” she trails off, gesturing at your forehead.

...that was definitely a weird question to ask someone you just met, and the suddenness of it leaves you dumbfounded.

She doesn't seem to notice the odd question, or if she does, she doesn't seem to mind.

You're not sure why the girl needs to know.

She drums her fingers on her knees while staring at you, as if your silence gave her carte blanche to ask nosy questions.

You purse your lips together, and she suddenly realizes you're not going to reply. Her fingers stop drumming, and she slumps back in her seat.

She's impatient.

Powder folds her arms across her chest and gives you an annoyed look, like she's expecting an answer.

You stare back at her, not sure what to say.

The silence is broken when your stomach suddenly gives a loud grumble.

Powder raises an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

Just then, a welcome rescue from your grumbling stomach arrives in the form of a woman pushing a trolley filled with sweets. She then peeks her head into the compartment. “Care for anything off the trolley, dears?”

Powder suddenly stands up from her seat. “Ooh! I'll take this, and this, and this, and a few of those- ooh, and a box of those-” she rattles off a whole list of things, pointing to every item on the trolley. “Is it all FREE?!”

The trolley lady laughs as Powder rattles off her list. She looks amused at Powder's excitement, though she gives you a brief look of concern. “Of course not. It all costs money.”

Powder's face immediately drops, and her eyes land on her pockets. She fishes out a few coins and holds them up eagerly. “I've got enough for a few.”

The trolley lady gives the coins a quick glance. Her face immediately darkens as she sees the pitiful amount of money Powder is holding.

“A few?” she repeats. “Honey, that's not enough for even one of those...” The woman turns her attention to you. “What about you, dear?”

You rummage through your pocket as the trolley lady looks on. You take out all the coins you took from the bank earlier and give them to the trolley lady. “We'll take the lot.”

—

“Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?”

It looks like it's going to taste like sweets—not any kind of sweets, every kind of sweets.

Powder looks away from the sweets on her lap and eyes the box of jellybeans in your hands. “They mean every flavor. You get chocolate and peppermint, and I think I've heard of one that's supposed to taste like liver or something,” Powder says. “Be careful with those! my brother once said he got a bogey-flavored one.”

Gross.

But at the same time, the whole every flavor bit intrigues you.

You've never had sweets that tasted like anything but sweets so you have no idea what it would taste like.

You open the box and pluck one, popping it into your mouth.

You expect something sweet and fruity, but the taste of the jellybean is far from sweet.

No, you get smacked with the taste of-

...old, worn sock that's been left out for a week in the summer.

You gag and spit out the jellybean. “Yuck!” The taste doesn't go away, and you stick your tongue out, trying to get rid of it.

Powder laughs. “I told you to be careful!”

“You said they had chocolate and peppermint!”

“Yeah, and liver, and bogey,” Powder retorts.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You warned me.” You sigh and push the box of jellybeans away. “Never again.”

“Don't worry, I've got something better.” She pulls out a box of chocolate frogs from the pile of sweets on the seat. She hands one to you. “Here. These are much better.”

You unwrap the chocolate frog, revealing the actual chocolate underneath.

It looks like a normal chocolate frog, save for the fact that it appears to be moving. You give it a poke with your index finger, and the chocolate frog lets out a loud ribbit.

You try to keep a straight face. “Is that... normal?” you ask, looking back at Powder.

“Yeah, it is. Don't worry, they're pretty common. Besides, they taste great.”

You look down at your chocolate frog. It lets out another loud ribbit. Before you can take a bite, the frog leaps out of your hand and leaps onto the windowsill.

“What-”

“Don't worry,” she reassures. “They do that-” Powder is cut off as your chocolate frog leaps away from the window.

You and Powder both look out the window of the train, trying to find the escaped chocolate frog. It's nowhere in sight, probably hopped away as soon as it found freedom.

“Don't worry, they're supposed to do that. It's kind of a gimmick. I've lost like, three of them already.”

“Supposed to? are they going to come back?” you ask, and Powder snorts in response.

“Yeah, like that's going to happen. They probably went off to breed.”

You give her a flat look that says, ‘are you serious?’ and Powder bursts out laughing.

“I'm just kidding, they don't breed. I don't think they can.”

You roll your eyes, but she keeps going.

“It's actually kind of a tradition to save their cards as a collection. You get a card with every chocolate frog.” She points to the now-empty wrapper. “I've got a whole bunch of them already.”

“You collect the cards?”

She nods, a proud look taking over her face. “Yep. It's a hobby of mine.”

You look at the empty wrapper and flip it over in your hands, finding an image on the back. “Heimerdinger?”

It's an image of a small, yordle-like creature that looks like a gnome.

Powder makes an exaggerated gesture with her hand. “Professor Heimerdinger is like, a legend. Everyone knows about Professor Heim, but I've got about six cards of him. It's pretty neat to have a whole bunch of them.”

You start to read aloud the description. “He is best known for his groundbreaking research in the field of science and his numerous inventions and discoveries, which have helped advance the magical community. Approximately three hundred years old. Professor Heimerdinger enjoys-” you look up from the card, “-three hundred years old?”

“Yep,” Powder agrees. “Most yordles are that old.” She pauses. “Actually, I think all yordles are that old. I saw it in one of my history books.”

If he's really that old... he's probably seen through a lot of history, and you can't even imagine what he's been through.

You stare at the card again. There's empty space where the image of Heimerdinger used to be. “What? It's gone. It was just here.”

That's a little weird... you turn the card over in your hand, wondering if you just imagined that there was a yordle on the back of that wrapper.

“Hm? Oh, that's normal.”

“Normal?”

Powder nods, unperturbed. “The picture never stays there for too long. It just pops up and disappears again, see?” she points at the card.

You watch as the image reappears on the back of the card, then vanishes again, then reappears, then vanishes.

“See? Totally normal,” Powder assures you. “They're called moving images. It's like a video, but it's a pic-”

“Pow!”

You turn at the sudden noise. There, standing in the doorway, is a boy in a yellow sweater with a badger on it.

“Been looking for you!”

Powder groans, recognizing the boy immediately. “Ekko,” she mutters, “why are you here?”

Ekko ignores this question and turns to you, eyeing you up and down. “Wait, wait, wait... are you the girl who lived?!”

“Is everyone going to start calling me that?” you complain, as Powder sighs next to you.

Ekko grins, sitting himself across from you. “You're kinda famous, you know that, right?” he smirks, propping his feet up on the seat next to him.

Powder smacks his feet off, annoyed. “Don't kick the seats.”

Ekko shrugs, unfazed by her irritation. “Just sayin'. I mean, you're the girl who survived the killing curse.”

You shift in your seat, uncomfortable. It's not like you asked to be famous for surviving something traumatic.

You look out the window at the hills and small villages and towns you pass by. “Yeah, I know,” you mutter, but Ekko either doesn't notice or doesn't care about your annoyance.

“What's it like?”

“What's what like?”

“Being the one who lived. The legend who vanquished You-Know-Who. That stuff,” Ekko clarifies.

“I don't remember any of it,” you say truthfully. “So nothing. I just got a scar out of it.”

Ekko looks dissatisfied with your answer. He stands up, stretching his arms. “Anyway, Pow,” he turns to Powder, grinning, “let's go, your sister is looking for you.”

Powder groans, clearly not wanting to leave your side yet. “Does it have to be now?”

Ekko gestures for her to get up. “Yes, now. You know how she can be when she wants something.”

Powder sighs, standing up reluctantly. She shoots you an apologetic look as she follows Ekko out of the compartment. “Sorry 'bout that. See ya around, yeah?”

You nod, watching as Powder leaves the compartment. Ekko looks back at you, eyeing you curiously, before shutting the compartment door. You're left to your thoughts, feeling slightly lonely without Powder there.

It was nice to have some company, even if it was just for a short while.

It's lonely just sitting in here by yourself... you shouldn't complain. You shouldn't be expecting people to talk to you all the time. But sometimes, it's nice to have... someone to spend time with. Or at least, you think it is.

You feel like you know Powder somehow, yet you just met her. You wonder why that is.

You look out the window again, contemplating... your life?

You don't see your face in the reflection. Instead, you see a pale blue-haired girl with pink eyes staring back at you.

Weird. You're getting tired. You yawn, blinking away the blurry vision.

The girl is gone.

...was she there at all?

Your eyelids are heavy. You're tired, but you don't know why. You've gotten plenty of sleep last night...

Yet you find yourself falling into sleep.

—

You wake up, feeling bleary-eyed and tired.

Everything is black.

You try to look around, but there's nothing to look at. You reach out to feel around, but you can't feel anything either.

Then you hear it—quiet sobs. It's very faint, but you can hear them still.

It's strange... the voice is familiar.

You feel like you should... go towards the sound. You can see a figure in front of you, a girl with long blue hair.

The girl's back is turned, facing away from you. She's sitting on the empty plane of black with her legs curled up to her chest, her head buried into her knees.

You don't know who this girl is, but something about her is familiar. You're not sure how you know her, but you know her.

There's a weird feeling in your stomach.

You watch as the girl raises her head from her knees, turning to look at you... except she doesn't have a face.

The girl's nose is gone. Her eyes are gone. Her mouth is gone. It just looks like a blank canvas where her face should be. Except this canvas is covered in... blood?

This can't be real. But if this is a dream, why can you feel your heart thumping in your chest? why is there a sudden sense of worry in your gut?

In the blink of an eye, the figure's hand shoots out—there's a wand clutched in her hand, and the tip of it is now pointed at you.

The wand doesn't look like much to fear; it's slim and delicate, just a simple stick of wood.

No, fear isn't coming from the wand... it's coming from the strange, faceless girl holding it. She points it at you, trembling, a shaky grip, as if she's been weakened.

“I'm sorry.”

You recognize that voice.

The girl takes a deep, shuddering breath, her hand trembling even more. “I'm sorry,” she repeats.

Your brain goes completely still for a few seconds, trying to process what's happening.

Then, your mouth starts moving on its own, and you say a word you've never said before.

“Jinx.”

It's strange, yet familiar, like you're saying this name for the first time but it still feels weirdly normal to say. You don't know why you said it, and you still don't know who this girl is, but you know that's her name.

You just know.

—

“We're almost here.” You wake up at the sound of your cousin's voice, opening your eyes.

The first thing you notice is that you're staring out a window, except it's dark, and you just see your own reflection staring back at you. You don't really pay it any attention, though, because you find yourself distracted by the strange feeling in your forehead.

But before you can linger on the thought, the weird feeling is gone without a trace, erasing it as if it never happened in the first place.

And just like that, your mind is blank. Completely wiped... you can't even remember what you were just thinking about.

“Are you ready?” your cousin continues.

You look away from the window, focusing your bleary vision on your cousin. The candy and chocolate wrappers are littered all over the compartment, and you watch as your cousin picks them up and puts them in a plastic bag.

“You're back,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight.

Caitlyn nods, placing the plastic bag down next to the compartment's door. “Yeah, the prefect duties got pretty busy.”

“I bet.” You lean back on the soft seat. “What did you have to do anyway?”

“All sorts of things. Helping first years find their way, breaking up arguments. You would not believe how many rules some students are already breaking before we've even arrived at Hogwarts.”

“Mmm sounds handful.” You make space on the seat beside you for her.

“Sorry, I left you all alone in the compartment.” Caitlyn says, sitting down next to you. “You didn't get up to any trouble, did you?”

You rub your forehead, the feeling that you forgot something nagging at you. “I just took a quick nap.”

“That's good.” She nods, crossing her legs. “I was worried you might get bored.”

“Yeah, not much to do, I guess…” You gaze out the window. It's already night, the darkness outside making it hard to see anything but faint flashes of trees. “The journey so far hasn't been too bad.”

Caitlyn hums, also looking out the window.

You look back at her, noticing the worried look on her face. “You okay?”

She hesitates for a few seconds before replying, “Yeah, I'm just thinking about…” she looks at you, “your upcoming year.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I'm your cousin and all,” she starts, choosing her words carefully. “I just worry.”

The sound of the train brakes squealing startles the both of you.

“Are we already there?” You look out the window again.

Caitlyn stands up and opens the compartment door, peering outside momentarily. “Looks like it,” she turns back to you, grinning.

—

“First years! First years over here!”

You step out of the train, taking in a deep breath of the cold night's air, and run your hands down your new robes, trying to get rid of the annoying wrinkles.

You look around the busy Hogsmeade station, searching the sea of robes.

Then, a flash of blue catches your eye, and you notice the same girl from earlier. She's standing with a small group of other first years, exchanging idle chatter and occasional smiles.

The girl sees you, her face brightens into a grin, and she waves. She turns to the other students, says something you can't hear, and then starts walking toward you.

“There you are!” Powder exclaims as she gets close. “I was looking for you.”

“Were you-” you're cut off by the gruff man's voice again.

“All first years gather here.”

You and Powder share a look before walking toward the voice, noticing the man's back was facing you. “Come on,” Powder says, tugging at your sleeve.

You both walk closer until you're standing next to the group of first years. Powder lets go of your sleeve and moves to stand next to another girl.

“Good, good,” the man says, “You're all here. Welcome to Hogwarts.” He looks at the group of first years before nodding. “Follow me please.”

You follow him, trying hard to keep up while also keeping your eyes on your new classmate.

Powder is still glancing over her shoulder at you. When you make eye contact, she grins, waving. You wave back and can hear her giggle.

The man stops in front of a lake, and the first years gather around him. You look out in the distance and notice a large castle on a mountain.

“This is the lake,” the man gruffs.

Everyone looks out at the lake. Some seem impressed, others not so much.

“Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm Udyr, the gamekeeper here. We're gonna be taking a short boat ride to the castle.”

The first years start talking amongst themselves, whispering about the massive castle waiting for them atop a mountain.

Powder is looking out at the lake, a smile on her face. You wonder if she even knows she's smiling.

Udyr clears his throat, signaling the students to quiet down. “Right, now. Form a line and face the lake. No pushing.”

Everyone lines up in a somewhat orderly line. Powder is only a few people down from you, and she keeps stealing glances at the castle.

“Alright! Time to go,” the gamekeeper calls out, waving his arm.

The first years slowly walk down to the edge of the lake, where a bunch of small boats are tied to makeshift wooden docks.

“There are enough boats for everyone,” Udyr informs, “So get into a boat.”

The first years begin to file off into the boats, with you following suit. You find a spot in one and take a seat, the wood creaking beneath you.

Powder ends up in another boat, leaving you in a boat with a boy with golden blond hair and two girls with colorful hair, one with a light green and the other with pink.

You glance over at Powder's boat and see her laughing at the boy over whatever he had said.

The blonde boy gives you a friendly smile and greets you with a handshake. “Hey, I'm Ezreal.”

Ezreal's grip is firm, his palm clammy to the touch, but that hardly has any negative effect on your impression of him.

You give him your name, and he replies with a nod of acknowledgment.

The other girl with pink hair chimes in, giving a wave as she speaks. “I'm Seraphine.”

Ezreal grins and glances over to the girl with green hair. “And this is Zeri.”

Zeri looks up, her eyes locking with yours. “Hey,” Zeri says, smiling.

Ezreal chuckles as he takes his hand back from your grip. “Friendly lot we've got here, huh?” He shakes his head and leans back, resting his hands on the edges of the boat. The boat wobbles as he does so, causing Seraphine to grab the edge to steady herself.

“Easy there, Ezreal,” the pink-haired girl says, giving a laugh.

Ezreal smiles apologetically at Seraphine. “Sorry.” He glances back at you and then looks down at the castle. “How'd they get the electricity…?”

“They do magic, remember?” Zeri says. “Who needs electricity when you can just cast spells to get things done?”

Ezreal lets out a sigh, rolling his eyes. “No, Z, that's not what I meant,” he replies. “I meant, like, does Hogwarts have plugs and stuff?”

Seraphine laughs. “I don't think they have plugs… It's a magic school, Ezreal. I don't think they have technology.”

Ezreal groans. “Oh man, I'm going to miss phones and video games.”

Zeri pats him on the back. “Hey, you'll survive, Ez.”

Ezreal gives a pout and looks at you. “What about you? What do you think of this place so far?”

You consider the question, looking around the lake. “It's…” you begin, searching for the right adjectives. “Different.”

Ezreal nods, agreeing. “I still can't believe I'm here.”

Zeri and Seraphine also both nod in agreement. “Me too,” Zeri says, while Seraphine adds, “This is all really new to me as well.”

—

You reach the top of the great stone stairs of Hogwarts, leading into the Entrance Hall.

You look up at the woman that stands before you. She gives you an appraising look before her gaze is diverted by Powder walking up the stairs to stand beside you.

The tall, pale woman has a grim look on her face and cold eyes that make you think she'd relish the chance to watch you squirm in fear as she feeds you to a giant squid in the lake if you so much as step out of line.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she speaks, her voice just stern enough to make it clear you have a new authority figure to be wary of, yet not unkind enough to make you think she'll actively seek out ways to punish you for your misdeeds.

“My name is Professor LeBlanc, and I am the Deputy Headmistress of this school,” LeBlanc says, giving you, Powder, and the other students around you a look that causes you to stand just a bit straighter.

“There are four houses, and you will all be sorted into one of them.” LeBlanc says, her eye moving over every student in front of her.

Some of them look excited, some of them look slightly anxious, and others just look bored that they have to sit through another introduction.

“Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff,” the headmistress continues. “Each house values different traits in its students.”

“Gryffindor values courage, bravery, and integrity.” Professor LeBlanc turns her attention to a group of students off to the side. The students seem to stand straighter as Leblanc eyes them.

“Slytherin values ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness.” LeBlanc turns her gaze to another group of students, who seem to puff up with pride.

“Ravenclaw values intelligence, creativity, and wisdom.” LeBlanc then turns her focus to a third group of students, who look nervous now that they have LeBlanc's entire attention on them.

“And finally, Hufflepuff values hard work, dedication, and loyalty,” LeBlanc continues, looking at the last group of students, who all give Leblanc a nervous smile.

She pauses, her eyes momentarily returning to Powder and you. “Your triumphs will earn you points, any rule-breaking will lose you points. In a few moments, we will be entering the Great Hall, and the sorting ceremony will begin.” LeBlanc steps out of the way, gesturing to the doors. “Any questions?”

You look over at Powder, who meets your eyes and gives you a shrug in reply.

“No questions then.” LeBlanc glances at students once more before nodding to herself and turning to the doors, which swing open with a dramatic flourish.

You follow the headmistress through the doors, stepping into the Great Hall, and look up at the ceilings, the night sky painted on in such detail.

It looks so real, as if you could reach out and touch the twirling stars. You can't tell if it's a painting or if it's actually real-

“It's bewitched to look like the sky outside,” a voice whispers next to you. You tilt your head, and Powder is walking beside you. “I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.”

She takes a minute to study the walls of the Great Hall, then turns her attention to the ceiling once more, her eyes darting between the night sky and the floating candles.

“Pretty neat, I guess,” she finally says, voice low. “Can you imagine falling asleep under that?”

The headmistress leads the first years through the Great Hall, stopping near the front of the hall.

An old, tattered looking hat sits on the stool. Its brim is lopsided and the hat looks like it's one strong gust of wind away from falling apart.

“That's the sorting hat,” Powder whispers, her eyes glued on the old hat. “Apparently the hat can read your personality and puts you in the house that will-”

She is cut off as the hat on the stool suddenly starts to twitch, its mouth (if it can even be called that) opening wide. A low, gravely voice came from the tattered hat and began to sing.

When the hat finally finishes its song, it bows to the four houses.

All the students, particularly the first years, start to nervously and quietly applaud the sorting hat, as if it might somehow get angry with them if they don't give it the attention it clearly desires.

The headmistress unrolls a long piece of parchment. “When you hear your name called, you will go up to the stool and take a seat, then the hat will be placed on your head.” LeBlanc says, a few students gulp. “When the hat makes its decision, take a seat at the table of your house. We will begin.”

You watch as several students go up, the sorting hat resting on their heads for a few seconds, then the hat is removed, and the students take their seats at the corresponding house.

Ezreal is sorted into Slytherin, Seraphine and Zeri are placed into Gryffindor.

You look at Powder, who shifts awkwardly as Professor LeBlanc continues to call students. Finally, Powder hears her own name.

“Lane, Powder.”

Powder looks once at you before walking towards the sorting hat. LeBlanc places the hat on Powder's head, then steps back. Powder's mouth is drawn in a tight line, and you can hardly see her eyes, her hair covering them as the hat rests on her head.

The sorting hat is left on Powder's head for much longer compared to the other students before-

“RAVENCLAW!”

One of the tables burst into applause and cheers. Powder blinks before taking the hat off of her head and handing it back to Professor LeBlanc. She walks to the table, finding an empty spot between two students.

You see Powder's eyes dart around the table, searching until her eyes land on you. She smiles.

Professor LeBlanc continues the sorting, and finally, you hear your name.

You keep your head up and back straight, but that doesn't stop your ears from picking up hushed whispers from your fellow students.

“It's her-”

“Do you think it's really her?”

“The girl who…”

Their words barely register in your mind, but your skin feels like it's burning from the attention.

You sit on the stool, trying to look as calm as possible as you look down at the faces staring up at you. You can't look away from them, despite wanting to bury your head in the ground.

LeBlanc places the hat on your head. You hear her say something but can't quite make out the words—not over the sound of your heart thumping in your ears.

The hat sits on your head, and you feel the slightest pressure.

Then, a voice.

Hmm... interesting…

Your eyes flicker down in surprise. The hat was-

...yes... interesting indeed...

You feel a nudge on your mind, like a finger gently prodding it.

So much courage and loyalty... yet no Hufflepuff...

The pressure on your head intensifies, the hat slowly shifting.

Ambition and a desire to prove yourself... you would make a strong Slytherin...

The hat continues to shift on your head, you can hear the voices of students watching you, and some of their words reach your ears.

“What if she's a dark witch?”

Another voice replies. “Don't be stupid. She can't be evil if she-”

...and intelligence and creativity like yours would do well in Ravenclaw just like your mother…

Mother?

You feel the hat shift again as if it had heard your thoughts.

Yes... the same intelligence and sharp wit.

The hat pauses, leaving you in the silence of your own mind.

But you're a different girl than her, aren't you?

Different.

You're different.

In what way?

In many ways. You could do great things...

...or terrible things.

You could... become… someone...

The hat goes silent again, it has a curious feel in your head—you get the impression that it wants to know more about you.

Like a strange parent that doesn't know who you really are.

Or a therapist.

You're not sure why that last thought enters your mind.

The hat speaks again, louder this time, so it could be heard by everyone in the hall.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

You take the hat off your head and hand it to Professor LeBlanc before moving off the stool. You notice the strange looks given to you from the students when they hear the answer.

You walk to the table, taking an empty seat beside a pink-haired girl. You look around the hall before your eyes settle on Powder, gives you a thumbs up.

You also notice Caitlyn's face from across the hall, clapping and smiling widely at you. You have a feeling she's very proud of you. Even though you just sat on a chair and wore a hat.

The pink-haired girl turns towards you with a smile. “Hey,” she says.

Before you can say hello back or even introduce yourself, she takes the time to study you, her eyes flickering all across your face and body.

After a few seconds, she cocks an eyebrow, then continues with a hand held out towards you. “I'm Violet, by the way. You can call me Vi.”

You shake her hand, returning her grin with a smile of your own. “Nice to meet you, Vi.”

Vi jabs a thumb towards the boy sitting on the other side of her. “Mylo, my brother.”

Mylo glances up, lifting a hand in a half-wave. The guy sitting next to him looks over and grins, holding up a hand in greeting. “Claggor.”

Vi leans forward, pointing towards the Ravenclaw table. “And that's my sister, Powder.”

Powder glances over, spotting your eye again, and grins, waving at you. Vi notices you returning her sister's wave and turns with a raised eyebrow. “You know my sister?”

You nod. “Yep,” you reply, “We met on the train.”

“Oh, did you now?”

Before you can respond, Mylo chimes in. “She's the one with the scar, right? the girl who survived that Dark Lord fella's curse?”

Vi's eyes widen. “Wait, seriously? that's you?”

When you nod to confirm it, Mylo lets out a whistle. “Damn. How'd ya manage to survive?”

Claggor smacks him on the shoulder. “Dude, you can't just ask that.”

“Why not?” Mylo grumbles, rubbing his shoulder where Claggor hit him.

Claggor shrugs as he takes a sip from his goblet. “It's kinda rude, asking something like that.” He looks over at you and shrugs with a smile. “No offense.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mylo says with a sheepish grin. “I didn't mean to offend you, really.”

You wave a hand and shake your head with a smile. “No, no, it's okay,” you say, “I don't mind.”

“I mean-” Mylo starts to say something else, but Claggor shoves him again, shutting him up.

“Ignore him,” Vi says, “He's a bit of an idiot sometimes.”

“Hey,” Mylo complains, but stops when Vi shoots him a sidelong glance.

You then glance at the empty golden plate in front of you. Your stomach growls, reminding you how hungry you are.

Claggor chuckles warmly. “Hungry, huh?”

You nod. “Yeah, I haven't eaten yet.”

That's when Mylo grins. “You're gonna love the food here, it's the best you'll ever have. The house elves cook it all for us.”

The headmaster rises from his seat, a wide smile on his face. “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!”

The hall cheers and claps, Vi gives an enthusiastic “WOO!”

“To our new students, welcome! and to returning students, welcome back!” He sweeps an arm towards the four house tables. “Let the feast commence!”

—

After finishing your meal, your attention shifts away from the food and towards the long table at the front of the great hall.

Professor Talis glances up and meets your eye. He gives you a smile and a nod before looking back down at his plate.

You spot Professor Heimerdinger sitting at the end of the professors' table. He's the one from the chocolate frog card with the same bushy mustache and small stature. He's engaged in a conversation with a dark-haired professor next to him.

You continue to scan the long table, and your gaze drifts to Professor Leblanc. She's chatting with the burly man seated in the center of the table. You figure he must be the headmaster, Professor Vander.

You turn your attention back to the professors and notice Professor Singed from the Leaky Cauldron, leaning in to whisper something to a man with a scar over one eye. His eyes lock with your own, and then suddenly-

“Ouch!”

You feel sharp pain, like a searing hot wire being pushed through your skull from the scar on your forehead. You wince, bringing a hand up to rub the scar reflexively.

What was that...?

Vi, having finished her food, looks over at you, noticing your pained wince. “What is it?”

The sudden pain in your forehead subsides, and you lower your hand, looking back to Vi. “It's nothing,” you lie, trying to shrug it off.

You look back over at the man with the scar, but he's no longer looking in your direction.

Strange.

Maybe it was just a headache.

“Who's that other professor chatting with Professor Singed?” you ask Vi, nodding towards the two men.

Vi follows your gaze and grimaces. “Oh, that's Professor Silco, head of Slytherin House. He teaches DADA.”

You look at Professor Silco with a frown. There's something off-putting about him. “He seems intense, is he always like that?” you wonder aloud.

“Yeah,” She says bluntly, “intense and cunning. You'd be smart to steer clear of him.”

You watch as Professor Silco listens to Professor Singed, nodding along to his words.

Then, the conversations around the table start to die down as Professor LeBlanc clinks her glass with a spoon. “Attention, please!” she exclaims as the last few conversations fade out. The hall falls silent.

The headmaster rises from his seat, straightening out his robes. “Ah, just a few more moments of your time now that all of you are fed and watered. I've got a few start of term notices to give you.”

Professor Vander clears his voice and continues. “First years ought to know that the forest on the edge of the school grounds is forbidden to all students. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Heads turn briefly towards Vi and Mylo and Claggor, who look away from the headmaster sheepishly.

“I've also been asked by Professor Heimerdinger-” Professor Vander cuts off, gesturing towards the yordle at the end of the table “-to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

There's a collective, annoyed “aww” from the students who had hoped to get away with some mischief.

You take note of the rules. No strolling in the forbidden forest and no magic in the corridors. Simple enough.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team ought to contact Madam Sevika.”

You sit up a bit. You've heard about the different Quidditch positions: seekers, beaters, chasers, and keepers. You wonder if you'd be any good at playing the game.

“And finally,” Professor Vander says, drawing your attention back to the headmaster, “I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.”

That's... a pretty harsh punishment.

You turn to Vi for clarification if the headmaster is joking, but she shakes her head, shrugging. She looks equally confused.

“And now, before we all go to bed, let us sing the school song!”

—

The head boy motions for the gathered Gryffindor first years to follow him. “Gryffindors, follow me, please. Keep up, thank you.”

You wave goodbye to Powder, watching her head off in the opposite direction with the rest of the Ravenclaw firsties.

A girl bumps into your shoulder as she walks past you, mumbling a ‘sorry’ before hurrying off to catch up with her friends.

You follow the head boy and stop on the stairs.

The stairs move.

You look up to see where they're going, only to realize that the steps have split off in two different directions. You make a mental note to be careful.

“Come on, come on!”

You keep walking, looking at the paintings on the walls.

One of them has a man with a very long, silvery beard, who winks at you as you walk past.

Another painting shows a group of men and women in medieval clothing, and one of the men tips his hat to you.

They all look so real, it's crazy to think they're just paintings.

...but then again, you're at a school for wizards, so maybe it's not that crazy.

You hear the first years murmuring curiously around you.

“Did you see the one with the beard?”

“Yeah, he smiled at me.”

“I wonder if they can talk.”

It's not long until you reach the hallway, the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms.

The head boy stops walking in front of the portrait of a lady with a powdered white face and big hair. He then turns to face you.

“This is the portrait for the common room. The password changes every month or week. The current password is ‘caput draconis.’ Remember, don't share the password with anyone from other houses, and the painting will know if you don't give the correct password.”

You and the other first years exchange looks.

“Caput draconis…” someone mutters, trying to remember it.

You repeat the words in your head a few times. Caput draconis. Caput draconis. Caput draconis.

The head boy clears his throat. “The correct pronunciation is ‘KAH-put DRAW-con-is,’” he says, enunciating the syllables clearly.

The others nod, and a few of them practice the pronunciation out loud.

The head boy nods in approval and turns back to the portrait. “Caput draconis.” The portrait then swings forward, revealing a stone archway into the common room.

“Come on, come on, get in,” he urges, gesturing for the first years to enter.

You and the other first years file into the common room, and the head boy follows behind, counting each Gryffindor firstie to make sure they all get inside.

There's a fire crackling in the brick fireplace. Couches and wingback chairs are situated around the room for relaxing, and there are several tables and desks for studying.

Some older students are lounging in the common room, some reading or studying, others chatting with friends.

You see Vi and her brothers waving at you. You wave back before turning your attention to the head boy, not wanting to be rude.

The head boy stands next to the fireplace, clearing his throat loudly to get everyone's attention. “Settle down, settle down, everybody.”

The older students quiet down, and the first years stop chatting and turn to look at the head boy.

“All right, welcome to your new home for the next seven years,” he begins. “I'm Tryndamere, a 6th year prefect. My job is to make sure you follow the rules, keep out of trouble, and help the younger students.”

Tryndamere lets his gaze linger on a few of the shyer students, as if to make sure they're paying attention.

“Now, I'm sure you're all eager to unpack your things, but first, I have to lay down a few rules.”

He then begins listing out the rules and guidelines, which include keeping the common room tidy, respecting the other students' privacy, and following curfew.

He also explains that the boy's dormitories are on the left and the girl's on the right and indicates which ones are for which year before leaving you to find your own.

—

You step into the first year girls dorm and find that your trunk has already been brought up and is now waiting at the foot of your bed, which has scarlet-covered comforters.

On your bed is a note, written in a neat, flowing calligraphy. Judging by the neatness of the writing, you know who it's from.

You pick up the note and unfold it.

Dear Cousin,

I hope you found everything in order and that you haven't been terrorized by other students yet.

I left a small care package on your bed, some sweets and other things you might need.

I'll be in the library studying for my upcoming N.E.W.T.S. See you tomorrow.

- C

You turn back to your bed and on top of the comforters is, as she said, a small package. You decide to leave the package for now, you're just too tired and bed is calling your name.

You take one last glance around the dorm and see that Zeri and Seraphine are already asleep in their respective beds.

There's also a cat, the one that Professor Talis and your cousin gifted, sitting by the window.

You change into your pajamas and crawl into your own bed, pulling the scarlet comforters over you. Your head has barely hit the pillow when the tiredness takes over, and you fall fast asleep.

—

You're suddenly plunged into complete darkness, but not the comforting type of darkness you get in the safety of your own bed.

This is deep, unending darkness that feels like it lasts an eternity.

But then, the darkness is broken. You see a lone figure, blue hair, slender and pale, with her chin to her knee. Her back is turned away from you, and you think you can hear her sobbing.

You've seen this before.

Something about her is tugging at the back of your mind, trying to make you remember something. But what?

You're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Professor Singed's voice, “You must transfer to Slytherin.” You turn your head towards him. “It is... your destiny.”

Destiny.

Professor Singed continues, his lips moving, but you're finding it difficult to focus on his words.

You keep your eyes fixed on the figure before you.

Who is she?

Despite the growing feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, your mind has no answer.

Why is she crying?

No answer to that one either.

Why does this all feel so familiar?

Again, no answer. Just a frustrating silence.

Your mind becomes aware of something else.

It feels like... something is wrapped tightly around your neck, like a snake slowly coiling around your throat.

You reach up and feel fabric wrapped around your neck, tightening its grip with every passing second.

Wait, is that Professor Singed's robe?

You look down and see the tail of the robe, the rest of the fabric disappearing into Professor Singed's sleeve.

You turn your head towards Singed, and suddenly, the world seems to slow down.

Singed is laughing.

His lips are spread into a wide grin, showing off his yellow stained teeth. Trapped like a mouse, pinned by his gaze like a bug on a corkboard. And then... then you hear someone else laugh.

Another laugh, a bit different from Singed's.

You turn your head towards the new figure.

Blue braided hair. Slender. Pale face. Pink eyes.

You've seen her somewhere. You know her. But all thoughts fade when the girl turns to a man with a scar on his left eye.

Professor Silco?

You see the girl whisper something to Silco. He gives her a smile and pats her on the head.

The girl's eyes then lock onto yours. Those pink eyes.

“Stay away from Jinx.”

That's the last thing you hear when there's a sudden flash of bright, brilliant green, and the surroundings begin to spin.

It's like you're on the fastest of fairground rides, with colors and lights swirling all around you. You can hardly make out where you are, and you know you're going to vomit when this ride comes to a ha-

The dizziness stops, and you blink to clear your eyes. You found yourself sitting on your bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, clutching your chest as you try to breathe.

Your fellow roommates are still deep in their sleep.

You sigh and slump further into your sheets.

It's just a dream.

You close your eyes and curl up further.

You don't remember anything afterwards.

words: it’s over 10k words so far and it’s only part 1.1… i lowkey feel kinda pressured to make each part just as long if not longer than the first part.. i can feel 100k words incoming ughHHH

#arcane #jinx #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane imagines #jinx x reader #jinx x female reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #jinx imagine #harry potter au #hogwarts au #slowburn #fluff

292 notes · View notes

synnlyrose · 10 months ago

Text

Thought #1.2- Hueningkai (Smut)

Haha most definitely not a submissive 😩

Seeee,Kai is the dom hiding in plain sight and boyyyyyy is he NASTY.

••

It would be a rather peaceful day, sun shining brightly, air cooled slightly by the breeze washing through the tree leaves. The older members of TXT would be lounging around the dorm, either in their rooms or scattered about. Minding their own businesses, unaware of the synnful (hehe) things that are currently taking place behind one door in particular.

Kai Kamal Huening's.

Oh, that little rascal-no not rascal. Devil. That little devil has you bent over, face down ass up, wrists bound to your ankles by his own album ribbons, his cock pumping in out of you at lightning speed. Deep, hard, rough. Your mouth hanging open, tongue lolled to the side rubbing against the soft material of one of his cute squish mellows all while Kai's hand, is pressing your head down into the poor innocent plushie. You can feel another moan creeping up you throat, but Kai had already warned you once to keep quiet.

"K-k-kaiiiiiiii" you whine, eyes closing fully, "s-slow d-down." Your voice is choking as he slams into your cervix, over and over again.

"Shush." He barks, quick and sharp, his hand moving from the side of your face to your mouth, covering it. He doesn't need his hyungs knowing what kind stuff happens behind the only closed door (not that he would mind even if someone walked in...). Your eyes would flutter back open to steal a glance at him. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his own tongue poking out the side of his mouth, a sickeningly nasty smirk cocking his lips apart. His hair messy and plastered to his face as his brown eyes watch his cock slide in and out of you. It was a sight he couldn't actually get enough of.

Oh, that fucker. That cute fucking fucker, has you folded, like a pretzel, your fingers digging into your own flesh as he mercilessly rutted into you, focusing solely on his own pleasure at the moment. The tightness of your poor swollen pussy, the arousal that had been leaking out of you, collecting, turning white from the force at which it was being pushed back into you. He fucking loves this, watching you helplessly squirm underneath his unforgiving thrust.

"K-kai..." You try again your voice taking on a more desperate tone, your eyes locked on his face. You were gonna cum and fast. That familiar knot was growing in your tummy.

"I said, to shut up..." He growls, picking one of his plushies up and pressing it against the side of you face, holding it there darkening your vision, making it seem as time it's self had slowed. With your own orgasm coming, your body begins to shake uncontrollably as Kai's cock hit that sweet spot over and over again. "G-gonna...cum..." You squeak out to yourself.

"Good, not gonna stop till you squirt all over me..."

----

Yeah see, I picture our Hueningkai being all sweet and gentle like he typically is out in public, but boy oh boy don't let the man get you alone cuz baybeeeee 🥵🥵 he ain't finna be cute no more!

Um.... should I post the last 3????

Did y'all like it? 👉🏽👈🏽 Um...maybe....want one?? 🥺

Idk, I'm joining the nasties (love y'all) who write Tumblr smut and well idk if I'm good enough for the elite sooooo some feed back is appreciated 🥹

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #txt #thoughts #smut #smut writing #hueningkai smut #smut writer #txt kai #txt huening kai #txt heuningkai #txt drabbles #drabble #txt maknae #hueningkai #tomorrow x together #choi soobin

173 notes · View notes

thatanimewriter · 5 months ago

Text

ETHEREAL DANGER NOODLE.

➳ request: Been having IL dan heng brain-rot since I’m in love with him lol but I noticed ur request are open and I was hoping to request I was wondering if I could request an IL dan heng x Reader based of 1.2 quest where reader was worried about Dan heng after battle and sees his new form when first sees him she low key gets flustered kinda mesmerizing by him literally low key simping literally I can imagine reader complimenting Dan heng so much that he is like hesitant about his new form but Reader reassures him that reader doesn’t think any less of him even with his Imbibitor Lunae form since reader still sees him as Dan Heng even if he looked different like no matter which forms he takes she will always love him regardless of his past just reader hold dan heng face in their hands ahhh I’m getting all butterflies feels just writing this idea 🤭🤭 I imagine Dan heng just wraps his tail lovingly giving cuddles to reader like just have fluff idea but I hope this ok request idea

➳ character/s: dan heng (il)

➳ warnings: established relationship, protective dan heng

➳ notes: dan heng is so pretty in il form, i was gagged at the cutscene (the back window-)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.

he feels really bad for being the cause of so many wrinkles on your face

wants to comfort you that he's all good, even though he did get impaled with a sword

doesn't get the chance to when you're stood from afar with your mouth slightly agape

the creases on your face disappear and he kinda feels insecure because of your staring

probably avoids you for a little bit because he doesn't wanna face what he thinks might be rejection

you're still in awe, especially after he became moses and split the sea with his long ass hair fluttering behind him

on the walk through scalegorge waterscape, you're just whispering compliments his way

"the horns are so cute"

"your hair is hairing"

"the back window?? i'm deceased"

"your eyes are glowing, i think i fell in love all over again"

the whole time, he's not making eye contact with you, but his tail is swishing behind him

if you got injured during the phantylia fight, you're not escaping his den on the astral express

he's got a tail wrapped around your waist and he's not letting you go

lets you sit on his lap and cup his face in your hands and shower him in kisses

constantly uses his tail to drag you around places or keep you from getting hit by cars-

#honkai star rail #dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail imagines #dan heng imagines #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr imagines

132 notes · View notes

sweetkpopmusings · 2 years ago

Text

heart-fluttering moments with stray kids <3

a/n: just a quick post to prove i'm still here! life is demanding, but i will always be on that sweet delulu agenda, so i hope this brings you some joy whenever you read it <3 these boys really do make my heart flutter regularly :,-) pics not mine~

content: fluff, can be read as nonidol!straykids | wc: 1.2 k | warnings: none really! | pairing: stray kids x gn!reader | requests: open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

chan♡‧₊˚

when you make him laugh.

chan loved acting childish with you. he could let his guard down; with you, he could always have fun. games were more enjoyable, conversations were more playful, and everything was brighter when you two were with each other. you both relished in the feeling of being childish together. the living room, coffee shop, sidewalk–these were all your playground. chan was extra certain of that when you cracked a particularly clever joke in response to his teasing comment. he laughed, eventually giggling with pure delight because it just kept getting funnier. you couldn’t explain why, but your heart soared every time the sound of his laugh met your ears, and it didn’t feel like this sensation would stop any time soon. that sound, you decided, was more enjoyable than any game of childhood makebelieve ever could be.

minho♡‧₊˚

when he protects you.

minho viewed you as one of the most precious people in the world. sure, that meant that, at times, he got a little too doting, scolding you for minor injuries that normally wouldn’t bother him. it was annoying but still sweet, so your complaints were lighthearted whenever they came out. you were not complaining, however, as his arm gently guided you through jampacked downtown crosswalks. cars and pushy passersby abound, yet you only felt a rush from the rustle of his jacket against yours and the way his eyes checked on you every few seconds, ensuring you were still by his side in the mess of it all. he even pulled you out of the crowd to ask if you were okay. you thought you’d always be okay, as long as you could stay with him. so you said, yes, thank you, minho. if you weren’t too busy calming your own heartbeat, you might have caught a glimpse of minho’s pink-tinted ears.

changbin♡‧₊˚

when he buys you a gift.

changbin felt so excited whenever he got to spend a day off with you. today, your schedules aligned well enough to take a day trip, and changbin never stopped smiling, giggling, or showcasing his joy in some way. you joked around with cheesy accessories in tourist shops, stared in awe at gorgeous antiques, and enjoyed each other’s company as though the day would last forever. changbin made sure it felt like that when he handed you a simple necklace, saying i bought this at that thrift store while you got us coffee. i thought you could have it as a reminder of a happy day we had together, whenever you’re down or i’m away. you accepted it, a soft thank you, changbin falling from your mouth as you latched the chain around your neck. he laughed his signature laugh, and you knew that, necklace or not, you’d never forget this day.

hyunjin♡‧₊˚

when you tell him he’s beautiful.

it wasn’t every day that you got to spend quiet time with hyunjin. that’s why every opportunity was special–well, more special, as any time with hyunjin was precious to you. you’re both relaxing, enjoying the soft sunlight that washes over your reclined bodies on the picnic blanket. you turn to look at him, and you’re struck by the beauty of the man beside you. he glows, all perfect angles and warm soul. when he asks why you’re staring, you reply because you are so beautiful. his eyes spin with wonder and gratitude when he looks at you, and you feel more beautiful than you ever have in your entire life. he smiles, pauses, and replies, so are you. only seven words were exchanged between you two, yet it felt as though you both had poured your hearts out over the remnants of your favorite snacks littered about the blanket beneath you.

jisung♡‧₊˚

when he looks over at you.

you’re about to watch a movie together for the first time. not just any movie, though. you’re about to watch jisung’s favorite because he has deemed you worthy of such an important endeavor. you two sit close to each other on the couch, not completely intertwined, but the space still a clear indication of how comfortable you are together. there’s a glint–excitement, mixed with fondness–in his eyes when you catch his gaze. the smile on his lips is sweeter than anything else you’ve ever seen. this moment, this fleeting exchange with jisung, is sweeter than anything else you’ve ever experienced. you’d refuse to admit it, but the way he looked at you is the reason your cheeks ached from smiling before the movie was halfway done. you had to admit you loved the movie, though, when he looked at you with his bright brown eyes, clearly grateful to have shared this experience with you.

felix♡‧₊˚

when you two make a promise.

felix was out of town again, so your weekly hangout had to be over video. felix, being sunshine personified, still managed to warm you up through the screen. it was getting late for you, though, and felix noticed before you did that your eyelids were starting to get heavy. you protested against his you need sleep! i’ll be here when you wake up, so please go to bed! but felix knew how to coax you into listening. after all, he knew you better than most, and he cared about you even more. he said so, asking you to promise that you’ll call as soon as you wake up. the beaming smile on his face that appeared after your promise truly left you breathless, and all the more certain to call him every day, if that’s what he wanted. you could even hear that smile when he picked up the phone, and his signature warmth filled your chest as soon as he said you kept your promise!

seungmin♡‧₊˚

when he tells you the truth.

seungmin wanted to take you to an arcade, so you both could let off some steam in a lighthearted, cost-effective way. while that sounded good in theory, you both realized that was impossible when the stress and cost of the claw machine overtook your night. it was still fun, and neither of you would give up until at least one plushie was in your arms. on your 23rd try, you couldn’t hide your furrowed brow or frustrated huff when the plushie slipped out of your claw fingers at the last second. seungmin laughed beside you, saying you look ridiculous right now. you frowned, and, still laughing but not wanting to kick you while you were down, seungmin clarified that it’s cute. you were grateful for the neon lights, hoping they blended with the blush on your skin to save your dignity, as the smile that grew on your face gave too much away. seungmin must not have noticed because he just slid into place in front of the claw machine. as you watched him focus, however, you noticed that a smile never left his face, despite failed attempt after failed attempt.

jeongin♡‧₊˚

when you confide in him.

jeongin knew something was on your mind when you were less enthused than normal during his shopping haul. he made himself comfortable near your spot on his bed, saying you can tell me, you know? only if you want, though. you smiled, cherishing the ease with which jeongin pulled out your trusting side. without going too much into it–you still wanted to enjoy his fashion show–you admitted that you had been more stressed than normal lately, probably creeping your way toward burnout. he sighed, understanding completely and immediately, and asked what can i do to make you feel better? like magic, that alone made your world shine brighter, but you asked him to continue showing off his clothes, because that was as close as you could come to admitting how much better he made you feel just by being there.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

483 notes · View notes

kathlare · 5 months ago

Text

perfectly still

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie enjoy a peaceful, intimate morning together in Monaco.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 28th, 2024 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

It was one of those rare, perfect mornings in Monaco when the world felt like it had slowed down, just for a moment. The early morning sun peeked through the large windows of Lando’s apartment, casting soft beams of light across the minimalist furniture and rich wood floors. The city outside was beginning to wake, the gentle hum of the harbor mixed with the occasional honk of a car far below, but inside, it was just peaceful. Quiet. Cozy.

Lando’s apartment, though sleek and modern, felt homey with the clutter of their lives slowly taking over. A stray hoodie here, an empty coffee mug there, and an assortment of books scattered on the coffee table. But today, the apartment was perfectly still, as if the world outside had been shut out for just a while.

Amelie stretched lazily beside him in the bed, her long, blonde hair splayed across the pillows like a halo, the slight sound of her morning hum filling the air. Lando turned his head to watch her, propped up on one elbow, his eyes soft and filled with admiration. He still couldn’t believe that she was his—his girl—after everything they’d been through, after the years of friendship and the ups and downs that had finally led to this moment.

She blinked slowly, her lips curling into that trademark smile he adored, the one that made his heart skip every time.

—Morning, baby,— she murmured, her voice thick with sleep but still somehow playful. She had always been a morning person, but today, it was different. She didn’t have anywhere to be, and neither did he. The world could wait.

Lando chuckled softly, his chest vibrating with the sound. —Morning, Ames.— He leaned over, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead, the warmth of her skin making him smile. It was these moments, these little things, that made everything feel so right.

Amelie turned her body toward him, rolling onto her side to face him, their noses almost touching. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, locked with his, and he felt that familiar flutter in his chest—an effect she always had on him. The playfulness in her expression didn’t go unnoticed, as if she was teasing him, waiting for him to make the next move.

Lando grinned, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. —You’re looking way too cute this morning,— he teased, his voice dripping with the affection that had grown between them ever since they had reconnected. It wasn’t just the heat of their new relationship; it was the familiarity, the way they had always been able to talk without fear, even when things were messy. But now, things were different.

—Not as cute as you, Lan,— she countered with a smirk, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw, sending a shiver down his spine. Her touch was gentle, like a secret they shared, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

—Stop, you’re making me blush,— he grinned, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It was soft, lingering, like they both had all the time in the world. They had been dating seriously since that fateful night in Mexico, but moments like this still held a magic that was somehow new every time.

Amelie’s hand cupped his face as she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer until they were tangled in the warmth of the bed sheets. He let out a soft sigh against her lips, feeling her smile as she kissed him again, this time with a little more playfulness. —You’re so distracting,— she murmured against his lips, —I was trying to sleep, you know?—

Lando smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. —I’m sorry, love, but you’re just too irresistible to ignore.— He dropped another quick kiss on her lips, before pulling away just enough to look her in the eyes.

She rolled her eyes dramatically but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. —You’re lucky you’re cute, Lan.—

His lips twitched with amusement. —You say that every morning,— he teased, pressing his forehead against hers. It was true; every morning felt like a reminder of how lucky he was. He never got tired of waking up next to her, never got tired of hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, feeling her warmth beside him.

—You always say the same thing too,— she teased back, her hand resting on his chest. —But I’m not complaining.—

Lando’s heart fluttered again, this time with more intensity. There was something so beautifully simple about these moments between them—no grand gestures, no expectations. Just her. Just him.

He leaned in again, this time capturing her lips in a deeper, more languid kiss, the kind that made everything else seem unimportant. Time didn’t matter. The busy world outside didn’t matter. It was just them, wrapped up in their bubble of quiet affection.

She sighed contentedly as they finally broke apart, their faces still close enough that they could feel each other’s breath. —I think we should just stay in bed all day,— she murmured, her eyes glinting with a playful hint.

Lando’s smile widened, a hint of mischief creeping into his eyes. —I’m not gonna argue with that.— His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other, the heat of the morning sunlight mixing with the warmth between them.

For a few moments, they just lay there, lost in each other’s presence. Amelie traced small circles on Lando’s chest, her fingers light and soothing, while he let his fingers wander to the small of her back, feeling the curve of her spine beneath his touch. They were both content, enjoying the peace of the moment, not needing to say anything more.

The room felt like their own little universe, isolated from the outside world, where nothing else mattered but their closeness. Lando was acutely aware of the way her fingers felt against his skin, the way she hummed contentedly as if she was trying to memorize every sensation. He loved how natural it felt to be with her again, even though they hadn’t been in a serious relationship for that long. The foundation of their friendship had always been there, holding them steady through the highs and lows, making these intimate moments so much more meaningful.

—You know, you’re not so bad to wake up next to, Lan,— Amelie said after a few moments, breaking the comfortable silence with her teasing tone.

Lando chuckled, his lips brushing against the top of her head as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer until she was practically lying on top of him. —Oh, I know I’m not, Ames. I’m pretty great to wake up to, actually.— He raised an eyebrow at her, the playful gleam never leaving his eyes. He couldn’t help himself, always enjoying the way she effortlessly kept him on his toes.

She snorted, her chest vibrating with laughter. —You’re something, that’s for sure,— she replied, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. She reached up, running her fingers through his messy, dark hair. It was as if she had all the time in the world to admire him, and he didn’t mind it one bit.

—You’ve been saying that for years, though,— Lando teased, his hand gently tracing the back of her neck. He couldn’t stop himself from being a little cocky around her. She was his best friend turned something more, and he loved how effortlessly they fell back into the rhythm of their old banter, even as their relationship had evolved. It felt comfortable, but in the best way possible.

Amelie smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at him. —Yeah, well... sometimes it’s easy to forget how amazing you are, when you’re being such a brat.— She poked his side playfully, and he immediately responded with a low laugh, twisting slightly in response to the poke. His laughter rumbled in his chest, resonating between them, and Amelie felt herself relax even more.

—You say that like it’s a bad thing,— he teased, smirking as he pulled her closer until they were chest to chest. She settled against him, her head resting in the crook of his neck, and he could feel her breathing slow.

—It’s not a bad thing, Lan,— she replied softly, the words slipping out in a way that made his heart stutter. —But, sometimes I think I’m going to have to remind you who’s in charge around here.— She nipped at his neck lightly, her teeth grazing his skin.

Lando let out a dramatic gasp, his hand moving to her back, where he pulled her even closer. —You? In charge? Come on, Ames, I’m the one who’s always calling the shots here.— He grinned wickedly, the tease obvious in his voice.

She snorted again, shaking her head. —Yeah, sure, you just keep telling yourself that.— Her lips brushed against his skin again, this time leaving a soft kiss as her fingers danced down his chest, teasing but tender.

Lando was already fighting the grin spreading across his face, the warmth of her affection making it impossible to suppress his happiness. It was moments like this that kept him grounded, reminded him how much he had missed her in those years when things had been complicated between them. Despite everything, they were here, together, and this time, there was no question of what they meant to each other. They had been through the awkwardness, the heartache, the uncertainty, and now they were finally able to relax into the beauty of just being with each other.

—You really know how to make me forget about everything else, don’t you?— Lando asked quietly, his voice a mix of admiration and something deeper, something softer that made the words feel more significant than a simple question.

Amelie smiled, her eyes closing for a moment as she breathed in the comfort of his presence. —You do the same to me, Lan. It’s just... easy with you. It’s always been easy.— She reached up, cupping his face gently in her hands, a soft, intimate gesture that sent a wave of warmth through him. —You’re not as bad as you think you are. You’re better.—

He smiled at her affectionately, tilting his head slightly. —You’re just saying that because I’m cute and you’ve got a thing for me.— He winked at her, teasing her once again.

—You’re such a dork, but yeah, I guess that’s part of it.— She rolled her eyes but the affection in her gaze was undeniable. Her fingers lightly traced his cheek, and for a moment, they just stayed there, content in the simplicity of the quiet morning.

Lando couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. Lucky that she was still here, still by his side after everything. They had been through so much, and now they were finally figuring out what it meant to be together, to let go of the past, and to just... enjoy each other’s company.

Amelie let out a little sigh, her head resting against his chest once again. —This is nice, Lan. You know, I don’t want to think about anything today. Just... us.—

Lando ran his fingers through her hair gently, nodding. —I’m with you on that. We’ve earned this. No work. No racing. Just us.—

And for the rest of the morning, they stayed like that, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s embrace. No words needed to be spoken; the feeling of being together was enough. It wasn’t about the grand gestures, the big events, or the expectations of the world around them. It was about this—moments like these, quiet mornings in Monaco where everything else could wait. Just the two of them, being themselves, together.

75 notes · View notes

sweetcomicval · 7 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 | 𝐉𝐉𝐇

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader song choice: rockin’ around the christmas tree - miley cyrus word count: 1.2 k PEACH & PINE MASTERPOST

As the evening settled in, Jaehyun tucked Teo into bed, the soft glow of the nightlight casting shadows on the walls. Gazing up at his dad with his droopy eyes, Teo spoke up with a yawn, “Dad, can we decorate for Christmas tomorrow? Please?”

Jaehyun smiled, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Teo’s forehead. “Of course. We’ll start when Mommy gets home, and I’ll have everything ready, okay?” Teo's eyes fluttered open a bit wider, a hint of his usual energy peeking through his sleepy exterior, and he nodded. Jaehyun leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. "Good night, little man."

By the next morning, Teo was practically bouncing with energy, but before the holiday fun could start, there was daycare. As Jaehyun secured him into his car seat, Teo’s little face turned serious. “Don’t forget the decorations, Dad,” he said, his voice all business.

Jaehyun laughed, giving him a playful wink. “I won’t forget. Pinky promise.” After buckling Teo in, Jaehyun walked to your window with a teasing smile. “Have a good day, love. I'll handle the Christmas prep.”

You glanced up at him, a grin tugging at your lips. “You better. And don’t break anything!”. Jaehyun chuckled, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I'll try my best. Drive safe.”

With a wave, he stepped back, watching as you and Teo pulled out of the driveway, off to start your day.

Having the house all to himself, Jaehyun got to work. He dug out the storage boxes, each one packed with ornaments, garlands, lights, and memories of your little family. He spent the better part of the morning carefully collecting everything, checking that the lights worked, and making sure none of the fragile ornaments were damaged. He couldn’t wait to see Teo’s face when he returned home.

Later, the front door burst open, and Teo came charging in, his little feet thumping against the wooden floor. He stopped as he spotted the tall Christmas tree, standing proudly but still bare in the corner of the living room.

“Dad! The tree!” Teo yelled, running over to take a closer look, his excitement bubbling over.

Jaehyun smiled, kneeling down next to him. “I know! It’s all ready for us to decorate,” he said, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. Teo's features brightened with happiness. “Can we start now?”

Jaehyun chuckled, tickling his tummy. “First, we need to eat lunch, and we should wait for Mommy to get home from work, too.”

Teo’s shoulders drooped for a moment, but he quickly perked up. “Did you make jumeokbap?” he asked, already imagining the rice balls.

As they ate lunch, Teo suddenly remembered. “Oh! Dad, do you want to listen to the gift Mommy and I got for you?”

Jaehyun smiled widely at his son, warmth spreading through him. “I’d love to, baby,” he replied, wiping some stray rice off Teo’s chin with a napkin.

Teo followed Jaehyun over to the music setup, a cozy corner of the living room. Jaehyun gently lowered the needle onto the edge of the vinyl record, and the melodies of “O Tannenbaum” filled the room. Teo’s mouth dropped open as the record spun, the music wrapping around them like magic. Jaehyun smiled softly at Teo, his heart swelling with affection. “Thank you so much, my Teo. It’s a wonderful gift.”

By the time the sun started setting, Jaehyun heard the front door creak open. You stepped inside, cheeks flushed from the cold, looking a bit tired but still glowing.

“Mommy!” Teo shouted, leaping up from his toys and running straight to you, “You’re back!”. You knelt down to scoop him into a hug, your heart melting at his enthusiasm. “Yes, sweetheart! I know you’ve been waiting for me to decorate the tree. Let’s do it now!” You kissed his cheek, smiling as his joy lit up the room.

Teo grabbed your hand, practically pulling you into the living room. “Mommy, look at the tree!” he said, bouncing up and down; his excitement was palpable as he pointed to the Christmas tree still bare in the corner. Jaehyun looked up from the boxes, showing you his dimpled smile. “What do you think?”

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” you said with a playful grin as you set your bag down. Jaehyun walked over, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. “All set, just like I promised. And so far, nothing’s broken.”

You and Jaehyun started unpacking the decorations, spreading them out on the coffee table. Teo jumped right in to help, carefully hanging the ornaments on the lower branches of the tree. “How does this one look, Mommy?” he asked, pointing proudly to a slightly crooked ornament.

You smiled warmly, crouching down to get a closer look. “It looks perfect, Teo. You’re doing an amazing job!”

As you all worked together, Jaehyun couldn’t help but pause for a moment, watching Teo concentrate on hanging each ornament to the best of his ability. It reminded him of doing the same with his parents, and now he was able to share this experience with his own family.

The tree was almost done—just a few more ornaments left and the star. But as Jaehyun reached for another box, he heard a loud crunch that seemed to echo through the room. His face froze as he looked down—he had stepped on the star.

“Jaehyun!” you gasped, holding back a laugh. “The star!” Your hands covering your mouth as Jaehyun winced, holding up the now-bent star.

“Teo, I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun knelt beside him, guilt washing over him. “I didn’t mean to break our star.” He looked genuinely apologetic, holding the bent piece up for Teo to see.

You stifled a laugh, walking over and patting Jaehyun’s shoulder. “It’s okay. We can get a new one.”

Teo looked up, a small frown creasing his brow. "Don’t worry, Dad," he mumbled, attempting to sound more courageous than he felt. "Maybe we can make a new one!" He gave a tentative smile, hoping to cheer his dad up with his cute dimples. “You want to make a new star?” Jaehyun talked to Teo in a pout.

Teo nodded, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah! In art class, we made ornaments with paper, glue and glitter. I can show you how!"

Jaehyun smiled back at him, his shoulders relaxing. “Alright, Teo. Let’s make the coolest star ever.” He gave Teo a high five, his earlier guilt fading.

The three of you gathered around the table, with some glitter foam and other craft supplies you had laying around. Jaehyun cut out the shape, you stitched it together with a needle and golden thread, and Teo added some stickers, resembling a face. It wasn’t a stylish tree topper, but it was perfect for you all.

You suggested ordering pizza for dinner, and after a quick clean-up, you all sat comfortably in the living room to order. “What should we get on the pizza?” Jaehyun asked, looking at Teo. “Cherry tomatoes! And extra cheese!” Teo shouted excitedly. You smiled and chimed in, “Can we get one with Beyond Meat for me too, please, love?”

Later, with full stomachs and the tree glowing softly beside you, Jaehyun wrapped his arms around both you and Teo. “You know, I think this might be the best Christmas yet,” he whispered, his voice warm and content.

With Teo on his shoulders, Jaehyun carefully placed the new and shiny handmade star on top of the tree. Despite the earlier mishap, it felt like the perfect start to the holiday season—maybe even better because of it.

a/n: things are starting to look festive! reblogs and comments are appreciated ☺️ the divider is from @enchanthings 💘

#jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #jaehyun fic #nct fic #nct fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct dojaejung #sweetcomicval #peach & pine

78 notes · View notes

itsnesss · 2 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | you confront max after a girl flirts with him, and your jealousy leads to a passionate night, making it clear he belongs to you

warnings | jealousy, possessiveness, smut (not so explicit?), intense physical intimacy

word count | 1.2 k

🖇️ sctw album 🖇️ more mv1

The paddock at Silverstone was packed. Photographers, journalists, models, and people who clearly had no reason to be there, except to steal attention. And you were among all that chaos, with your dark sunglasses and a tense smile trying, unsuccessfully, to hide what was boiling inside you.

Because there she was.

In her baby blue dress, low-cut and perfectly fitted. Laughing too loudly, touching Max's arm as if it were hers, as if he wasn’t already taken. As if you weren't there.

The scene was almost cartoonish. She leaned toward him, her eyelashes fluttering like butterflies, her high-pitched voice pretending to be sweet.

And he... smiling.

No, he wasn't flirting. Max was polite, charming out of obligation. But you knew him. You knew when someone liked him and when he was just being cordial. This time, you weren’t sure you believed what you were seeing.

You walked over without thinking too much, your boots echoing on the paddock floor.

“No, seriously, get your hands off my man.”

The voice came out colder than the wind on the Monaco straight. The words hung in the air, heavy, sharp.

The girl froze, a stupid smile on her face that quickly crumbled. Max blinked, surprised, but didn’t say anything. He just looked at you.

And you kept walking, not giving it any more importance. Because you were the one sleeping in his bed. You were the one he called at three in the morning after a tough race. You were the one who knew every inch of his body and soul.

And no one else was going to touch what was yours.

Less than twenty minutes later, Max entered his motorhome. You were sitting at the table, arms crossed and legs dangling, your jacket half off and a built-up rage burning on your lips.

“Want to explain what that was?” he asked, slamming the door.

“Me? Explain what? That a generic Barbie tried to eat you alive in front of the whole team?”

“There was nothing going on.”

“Of course not. Just like nothing happened with the blonde in Canada, or the flight attendant from the Miami GP. You know what’s funny, Max? That they all act like I don’t exist. Like they don’t see that I’m with you.”

“Maybe because you come in like a storm and make scenes like this.”

Your jaw tightened.

“Because I’m yours. And you’re mine. Or has that changed?”

Max moved closer, never breaking eye contact.

“No. That hasn’t changed. But you need to stop thinking that all of them want me.”

“And can you stop acting like you don’t like it?”

His smile was slow. Dark. Like he had just seen you for the first time in weeks.

“Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m marking my territory.”

He laughed with a low, throat-deep sound before positioning himself between your legs.

“And how do you plan on marking it?”

Your breath caught. The tension was so thick you could’ve cut it with one of your car keys. His hand slid up your thigh, slow, dangerous. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe.

“Here? After screaming it to the whole paddock?”

“Right here,” you whispered.

And then, he kissed you.

His mouth melted with yours as if he couldn’t wait another second.

It was a hungry, furious, possessive kiss. One that didn’t seek forgiveness or apologies, but dominance, fire, proof. Max gripped your hips tightly, pressing you against his body as if he needed to remind you that you were his. That everything you had—mouth, body, pride—belonged to him.

And you, of course, responded just the same.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your back fell onto the table, and he followed, devouring you with every move. The rage from before now burned like desire. Like a fire neither of you wanted to put out.

“Do you know what you do when you talk to me like that?” he whispered against your neck, his voice rough, dark.

“What?”

“You drive me crazy.”

His hand slid down your waist and up under your blouse. The heat of his skin against yours was a brutal contrast to the room’s air conditioning. And there was no turning back. Not when your legs tangled around his waist. Not when his tongue traced a slow path down your collarbone.

You arched, gasping when he pulled your blouse off like he was ripping a trophy from you. And there it was, that look... the one that always makes you tremble.

Max didn’t see you like other men did. He didn’t desire you with the same superficial hunger.

He devoured you with his eyes like you were his religion.

And just when you felt like you were about to explode from the brush of his hands, he stopped.

“Tell me one thing,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours. “Did you really think I’d look at anyone else?”

His fingers slid down your bra strap.

“No. But she did think she could have you. And that was enough for me to want to rip her face off.”

He smiled. That crooked, arrogant smile, so damn his.

“Miss Possessive...” he whispered against your chest before leaving a trail of descending kisses down your torso. And you died.

The way he touched you wasn’t delicate at all.

It was everything you were when it came to him: need, urgency, strength. Your nails dug into his back as he pushed you harder and harder against the table, against his hips, against his flesh-made will.

And every time you moaned his name, you did it with fury. Like you were claiming it from the world. Like you were saying “he’s mine, get it through your heads.”

His mouth found every corner of you as if it were the last time. Like that fight in the paddock had only been the prelude to this: muffled screams, dark gazes, trembling hands as you both clung to each other.

Your clothes no longer existed.

His were half hanging, and yet, he refused to pull away from you. Sometimes he looked at you between thrusts, with that killer gleam in his eyes.

“No one else touches you like this.”

“No one,” you gasped, burying your face in his neck. “Only you.”

Max groaned, hoarse, desperate. He squeezed you with both hands as his movements became wilder, more out of control. Every time you entered his mind, you did it with nails, with teeth, with fire. And that’s what made him addicted to you.

You’re not easy.

And when he finishes with you, you both lay there gasping, clinging to each other, as if you were broken and put back together with each other’s bodies.

Silence.

His hands are still trembling on your back.

And then you say it.

“The next time someone touches you like that... I can’t promise I’ll stay quiet. Maybe I will end up ripping her face off.”

He laughs, kissing your cheek, dropping his guard for the first time in hours.

“You could warn me first,” he says. “So I can record it.”

You both laugh, and you know, as he settles back with you in his arms, that there may be many girls out there. But no one is going to love him, protect him, desire him, or fight for him like you do.

tags | @ebkitty

#🖇️ so close to what #🖇️ max verstappen #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen masterlist #max verstappen x you #so close to what #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

396 notes · View notes

paperclip-skz · 5 months ago

Text

Crashing Waves

fem*Reader x Jeongin

*WARNING*

WC: 1.2

Contains: mentions of unproteced sex, this is mostly a fluff story so.....

****

As the opening credits of the next movie in your Harry Potter marathon danced across the screen, you nestled deeper into your cozy blanket, the warmth wrapping around you like a comforting hug. The familiar music filled the room, creating a perfect atmosphere for a night in. Just as you began to lose yourself in the magical world, a soft, almost hesitant knock echoed through your apartment, pulling you back to reality.

You glanced around at the takeout spread before you, the enticing aroma wafting from the containers, and sighed. It was unlikely to be food; you knew your delivery should be safely in your possession. Outside, flurries of snow swirled gently, blanketing the city in a soft white layer, ensuring that your friends and coworkers would be snug at home rather than out and about. Your neighbors were on vacation for the winter, leaving you puzzled about who could be waiting at your door.

“Who could it be?” you murmured to yourself, a mix of curiosity and apprehension stirring within you. You pressed the pause button on the remote, unwilling to miss a single moment of the enchanting world of wizards and magic, and padded quietly toward the door. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you slowly turned the doorknob, glancing through the crack you had created.

Peering out, you found a lone figure standing in the dim light of the hallway, their massive hood casting a shadow over their face. Instinctively, you stepped back slightly, your heart racing at the sight of the stranger.

“I- I’m scared,” he said, his voice barely breaking through the stillness of the air. The tremor in his tone lodged a sense of unease in your stomach.

“Hello?” you managed to say, trying to gauge who this person might be. He hesitantly lifted his head, revealing familiar features that sent a jolt of recognition coursing through you. “Jeongin?” you exclaimed, surprised to see him here at this hour.

“I- I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified,” he confessed in a rushed breath, vulnerability shining in his wide eyes. The weight of his words hung in the air like cigarette smoke in a cramped space, leaving you utterly stunned, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling like the snow outside.

“What?” one word. Thats all you’ve managed to come up with as a reply.

“Y-yea,” he’s shivering, no doubt from the cold outside. He might be standing in the hallway to your apartment, but it looks like he just climbed a mountain of snow a minute ago. You’re hyperventilating as you step out of the doorway to let him in.

No words are exchanged as he crosses the threshold into the warmth of your apartment, but the depth of his glossy eyes is a silent plea for you to speak, to fill the heavy silence with something meaningful. “Y/N—”

“I’m not good at expressing things,” you rush to cut him off, your heart racing. His eyes widen a mixture of surprise and concern, urging you to continue. “That’s why I’ve never really been in a relationship for long. I struggle to put my feelings into words, and while I’m somewhat better at showing them through actions, the truth is, I’ve never truly understood what that kind of love feels like.” His expression visibly falters, the hope in his gaze dimming slightly.

Taking a tentative step closer, you reach for his hand, a lifeline in this tense moment. “I love my family. I love my friends.” You pause, gathering your thoughts as you gently lock your eyes onto his, searching for understanding. “But the love I feel for you is something entirely different; it’s deeper—like a gravity that pulls me in.”

His head snaps up, an ember of hope igniting in his eyes as he processes your words, piecing together the emotions you’re struggling to articulate. “Say the words, please,” he pleads softly, knocking his forehead against yours, breathing mingling in an intimate dance. “Say the words, and I promise to show you just how deeply I love you for the rest of our lives.”

You bite your lip, your mind flooding with memories of every laughter shared, every tear shed, every celebration and hidden moment that has woven your lives together. All of it leads you to this point, and your heart swells with the weight of truth. “I love you,” you finally whisper, and everything around you fades away when your lips touch his.

His kiss is fierce yet tender, a collision of warmth and longing. Teeth clash softly; tongues intertwine in a rhythm that feels both exhilarating and familiar, as if you’ve been doing this for lifetimes. In that kiss, he tastes like home on a cold autumn night—a comforting embrace that wraps around your soul. The world slips away, leaving only the two of you, as his arms encircle your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace that feels like the safest place you’ve ever known. You find solace in his strength, blissfully lost in the warmth of his love, knowing you are exactly where you belong.

******

The entire world constricted of his touch, his lips on your skin tracing every inch like solving a puzzle in his mind. Your back arched into his hands, and your fingers dragged against his scalp, relishing in the smoothness of his hair.

You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t stop,” you whispered against his lips.” He pulled back a furrow, caressing his brow.

He hesitated for a moment, his head resting against your chest as he kissed the spot where your heart raced wildly against your ribs. “If we keep going, I won’t be able to stop at all.”

His words sent a chill through you, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. The idea of him locking away all his emotions, desires, and thoughts out of fear was almost unbearable. Overwhelmed by a wave of emotion, you gently cupped his jaw, guiding his gaze to meet yours. With a tenderness you’d never felt before, you kissed him softly, pouring every ounce of sincerity into that moment. You wanted him to understand that this wasn’t just a fleeting spark of passion but something deeply real and profound. “Give me everything,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with earnest hope.

At that moment, his eyes glistened with a mix of vulnerability and wonder, reflecting a light you had never seen before. And when he smiled, that adorable dimpled grin broke through the tension, shining like the dawn after a long night, illuminating the space between you with an almost blinding warmth.

Within the next few minutes, you rush to remove clothes and garments until Jeongin is on top of you once again, kissing your forehead. “Hold onto me,” he whispers, and you comply, grasping his shoulders like they are your lifeline.

As the night rolled on, you both moved together like waves gliding across the sand, unending, undisturbed. And when you went over the edge, Jeongin was right alongside you - crashing with you.

#smut #stray kids x reader #story #stray kids smut #stray kids #short story #skz #skz smut #fem reader #limbo #yang jeongin #jeongin #jeongin x reader #jeongin smut #fluff #jeongin fluff

45 notes · View notes

adnauseum11 · 1 year ago

Text

Troops in Contact (John Price x Reader)

John gives you a warm welcome to your new home.

1.2 k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex

It's a stat holiday here so perfect time for some mid-day smut

feedback welcome!

John leaves a trail of clothing in the hallway, pushing and pulling you where he wants you. You know on some level John is strong, but he rarely turns it in your direction. So, when you take a half a second too long to shimmy out of your jeans he twists, slinging an arm under your thighs and physically tosses you into bed. You squeak in surprise, flinging your arms out in the sheets to steady yourself.

He’s gripping the sides of your jeans and tugging them off you before you bounce a second time on the mattress. He repeats the same motion with your underwear, his fingers dragging over your exposed skin. You can’t help your breathless laugh, watching him kick his own undone pants and briefs off at the end of the bed.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”

You tease gently as he crawls up your body, pressing open mouth kisses over your skin, his whiskers dragging softly and making you shiver. His tone is earnest when he replies, too focused on the task at hand to attempt to temper his response.

“You, love. Can’t believe my good luck, you’re going to be here every night.”

His lips close around your nipple, swirling his hot, wet tongue before sucking. You gasp and run your fingers through his hair, pressing your fingertips into his scalp and making him groan against your skin. He lifts and murmurs against you, voice low with desire, making goosebumps break out.

“And every morning.”

He switches to your other nipple, repeating the gesture and making your abdomen clench with want. You can feel yourself getting wetter, his dark voice against your body making your insides liquify.

“It’s what you wanted, right?”

You whisper, your back arching as he rasps his teeth over your nipple. The dark hairs of his chest rub against your delicate skin as he moves, making your insides flutter and your nails bite into his shoulder and scalp. He hums his approval, nudging your thighs wider to settle himself between them.

“God, you’ve no idea, love.”

Affection and desire are at odds in John’s tone, a low rumble you feel as much as hear. He leans over you to get a condom from his bedside table, and you take his momentary distraction to wrap your palm around him again, stroking him lazily. He hisses a curse into your ear and his cock jumps in your hand, seeking out the friction.

“I want you inside me.”

You purr, rubbing your thumb around the head of his cock. John groans and doesn’t answer, batting your hand out of the way to roll the condom on. He grips himself and guides himself into you without any preamble, making you both hiss. Your legs wrap around his hips tightly, your nails biting into him again. He rocks experimentally making you whine softly before he sets a steady rhythm.

He braces himself on one palm, sliding his free hand up from your breast to your throat, holding you down lightly while he rocks into you. It makes you clench around him with a moan, your fingers raking down his shoulder to grip his forearm.

John leans over you and kisses you, the rasp of his tongue a counterpoint to the drag of his cock. You can feel the tightening of your muscles all over, trying subconsciously to hold onto him. He’s feeding sensation into you with each thrust and pass of his tongue, each layer building to your orgasm. You slip an arm around his neck, forcing him to drop down onto his elbow as you tug him closer. The angle changes, making you moan low in your throat and press your heels into his ass.

He breaks your kiss with a groan, panting against your skin, your fingers working their way into his hair again. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he ruts into you, making your knees clamp down on his sides and your inner muscles bear down on his cock. The wet sounds of skin pressing together, mixed with the creaks from the bed from John’s shifting weight only turn you on more, making you wetter.

“Fuckin hell, love, you feel so good.”

John’s low gravelly voice in your ear makes your back arch, liquid velvet in your veins turning you desperate. Your fingers press into his flesh again, gripping the back of his shoulder as his rocking thrusts shove you to the edge. You just need a little more pressure, a little more friction and you’ll come undone.

“John, don’t stop, don’t stop”

You chant as your thighs tremble around his hips. John can feel you fluttering around his cock and reaches back to grip your thigh, sliding his palm up to your ass and lifts you slightly. The tiny shift in position is enough to trigger your orgasm. You can’t temper the wailing cry that rips from you as you cum, your entire body clutching at him, fingers tight in his hair. He starts to lose his steady rhythm, the pull of your body overwhelming him.

“Fuck, love, you’re going to make me cum.”

John’s cursing, his hips stuttering as he shifts to shallow little thrusts. You can feel his cock jerk inside your still pulsing pussy as he cums. His deep groan in your ear, his face in your neck sending waves of sensation through you. You pant, locked together for long moments, both of you reluctant to move an inch.

Finally, John breaks the soft spell and slides your thighs off his hips, pulling out of you slowly, making you hiss. He gets up and disposes of the condom, getting you a glass of water before returning to you in bed. He spoons you, rolling you onto your side, out of the wet spot you’ve made. You can feel his whiskers on the back of your shoulder and shiver, tightening your grip on his arm.

“You make me feel like a punk teenager again darling, can’t stop myself. I swear I can last longer than that.”

“mm, I feel too good to argue with you. You were never a punk teenager. And I don’t care, I want you to feel as good as I do right now.” Your sentences are short, your brain power in short supply.

“You’re too good to me, love.”

John argues anyways, making you smile and kiss his hand before curling around it again, affection for the man holding you overtaking you.

“Can you drive me to work tomorrow morning?”

You ask softly, stroking the hair on his arm, your eyes drifting shut.

“Yes, of course darling. I’ll pick you up too.”

He counters, his mouth scattering kisses over the back of your shoulder and neck.

“You don’t have to do that-“

You start to tell him you can figure out the route home while at work but he cuts you off.

“I want to. I’ve got errands to run tomorrow anyway. It’s no trouble. That is if you haven’t quit by lunch.”

He kisses the base of your neck and even half asleep with your brain rattled you can hear the fond amusement in his voice. Insufferable man.

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306

Ao3

Next Chapter

#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #this work has smut #john price smut #john price x you #moving in together

170 notes · View notes

eleni-cherie · 11 months ago

Text

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 1.2

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

14th September

Barcelona, Spain

"Do you mind that I'm not calling you any pet name?"

His tired eyes met the ceiling first before gazing down at Cassandra in his arms as she was absendmindedly drawing patterns on his bare skin and contemplating the degree of silliness of her question.

It was late, minds heavy with sleep at this point. They'd spend all evening just laying on the fluffy carpet of her living room, listening to their joint playlist. Until 'Wicked Game' by Chris Isaak started playing and an unserious quarrel had broken out over which one of them has added it there.

But only for a short moment. Because the last thing Taehyung could remember then were her tender lips on his neck and his hands on her hips.

"What do you mean?" he eventually asked.

She turned her head and propped her chin on his chest to look at him better. The tousled waves messily sticking out in all direction along with his unsteady gaze and lazy smile made him look too cozy not to snuggle back in.

Her fingers gently tucked at the small golden tiger pendant that had slid off his neck then, before grazing Taehyung's jaw.

"I mean, I know we both don't really do the typical corny names, but you do call me in charming ways occasionally.. while I.. I don't."

She didn't call him baby, babe, honey, darling, mi amor or whatever else there was. She only called him 'cool guy'. Sure, he always claimed he preferred that over anything else. Yet, she wondered if maybe he wanted something more endearing. Not that he was using any of the forementioned either, it simply was neither one's style. It didn't feel like them, like Cassandra and Taehyung. But sometimes, out of a whim, he did call her 'angel' or even 'my girl' along with the good old 'Doc', which always made her heart flutter.

Humming, he brushed off an unruly curl from her vision. Beginning to understand. And a mischievous smirk tucked onto his lips. "But just ten minutes ago you call-"

Her eyes shot open, cutting him off with flushed cheeks. "That's not what I meant, you idiot!" she whined embarrassed, wiggling in his embrace. And he bursted out laughing, his warm chest vibrating hard underneath her.

"I wonder if 'idiot' counts as one then," he faked musing, chuckling again when seeing her pout.

He gently flicked his finger on her forehead then, a soft smile resting on his lips instead. "Told you, I love you calling me 'cool guy'. Gets me every time."

"Hm, but you are a cool guy. So it's just facts and not really a pet name," she argued with puffed out cheeks. And he poked into them amused. Feeling more awake by now.

It indeed got him when she called him that. He wasn't exaggarrating.

"And it's facts when I call you 'angel' or 'my girl'. So I don't really see the issue here," he retorted with furrowed brows.

Flustered, she bit back a coy smile. "Oh, okay then."

Her head returned to its previous spot, nuzzling into his shoulder and he smiled sleepily.

She always made fun of him being clingy in his sleep but in reality, she could be just as much. Not that he'd ever mind. She could cuddle into him as much as she wanted, it was more like that fire rained down from the sky than him never minding the feeling of her so close to him.

His eyelids fell heavy as his arms wrapped around her smaller frame. Cradling her against himself as he drifted off to sleep to her breath warming his skin.

Tiredness overtook Cassandra's mind as well, the sound of his quiet breathing lulling her.

There in Taehyung's arms, she felt safe. It was the only place on earth that made her truly feel at ease, like everything was alright. Like everything was going to be fine.

And that thought comforted her as she fell asleep.

It hadn't been even five hours. The leaves outside rustling in the strong wind when Taehyung woke up from his phone screen illuminating the darkness of the room.

With a light grimace, he reached over and blinked his eyes a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness.

rich kid (4:39am): meeting place C

rich kid (4:39am): see you in 2 days

It was from Jimin, informing him which hideout they'd meet at their designated location.

With a sigh, his gaze wandered to the woman sleeping silently beside him. Having slid off of him in their sleep.

The screen's light got reflected on her pale skin and he noticed the curled hands in front of it. Fists balled towards herself. He knew by now what that meant from all the cold nights he'd spent with her. So he pulled the cover over her shoulders and tucked it right under her chin.

For a moment, he simply observed her breathing quietly. A heavy feeling lying on his heart. Not only because yet again he had to leave her, but also an overall anxiety that kept nagging in the back of his mind.

First that car chase and shoot-out she'd accidentally partaken, then the embassy heist she'd been compelled to participate in and to top it off, interpol interrogating her. A dragged out sigh left his nostrils out of frustration. About the situation, about himself.

At least he knew her save by interpol observing her. It was a blessing in disguise really. Of course he had noticed the obvious car with an agent inside near her entrance door and at work. He had anticipating them doing something like this after the interrogation since they couldn't pin anything on her and she couldn't provide them any useful information. Surely, it complicated things a little bit for him since he could only come and go with disguise (his preferable one being the old neighbour) but it was a price he was willing to pay with ease if it meant there was someone watching after her when he couldn't. He actually appreciated it and who knew, maybe one of Seokjin's intentions had been that and not only spy on her in case Taehyung showed up.

So far, he hadn't told her about the car with the agents though. It shouldn't look like she knew and he also didn't want to worry her. Telling her the disguise when going or leaving the apartment and him not picking her up at work anymore would just be a precaution. Just like them always going to different places to hang out at in the city. He didn't like leaving her in the dark but it wasn't a complete lie either.

Perhaps a white lie more than anything.

With a sigh he slid away from Cassandra's side.

End of summer was approaching fast, announcing itself with strong coastal winds picking up in the first light of dawn. He could clearly hear it outside, behind the blinds as he got up.

A quiet whine left her lips then as her sleeping body wiggled under the covers, making him tense up for a moment before exhaling in relief. It seemed he hadn't woken her up after all.

He knelt down in front of her adorably scrunched up face and pushed away some coppery curls to press a tender kiss onto her temple. It was her first free weekend in weeks, she deserved to sleep in.

He slowly rose again, contently making his way to gather the rest of his clothes and his gun - only to stumble over something in the sparsely lit room. His shin hit against the leg of her makeup mirror with a thud and he winced in pain, quickly covering his mouth to muffle the sound.

Had her clumsiness rubbed off onto him?

It was already too late, however, because as the light sleeper she was, Cassandra stirred up. Dishevelled curls sticking out of her ponytail as she blinked her eyes, trying recognising the source in her still draws state.

"Tae?" she yawned, rubbing her eyes. Falling back into the pillow then. "What time is it?"

"Sorry, angel," he whispered, "Remember? I gotta leave early to catch the train." He picked up his shirt from the floor after groping for it in the dark and slid it over.

A disatisfied hum was heard behind him followed by the rustling of the bed sheets. And suddenly the room was bathed in the warm light of the cloud-shaped lamp on the nightstand. His gaze wandered over his shoulder, seeing Cassandra having sat up again, resting against the bedrest. She did her best rubbing the sleep out of her face. And the thief exhaled softly. "Go back to sleep, Cas."

However, she only shook her head. Refusing and simply sitting there, watching him as he continued getting dressed with a gaze full of wistfulness. Like every time he had to leave her. She tried masking it, but nothing could be hidden in those big doe eyes. And it always pained him.

Pausing from buttoning his shirt, he met her eyes. Her brows arching curiously as she watched him walking up to her and taking a seat next to her. The matress dipping under his weight. But before she could question it, his hands had already gone behind his neck, unclasping the necklace with the tiger pedant. Placing it around her neck instead.

"Wh-" She scrunched her nose in confusion and the corners of his lips curled up when seeing her adorably puzzled face.

"Keep it save for me, yeah?"

She swallowed, her features softening as her fingers touched the golden pedant which had joined the heart locket on her collarbone. Feeling the symbolic weight heavier than its physical one. She knew how much it meant to him after all.

"What if I lose it?"

He shook his head lightly. Placing a light kiss on her forehead with certainty in his smile.

"I know you won't."

»»»

15th November

With a fond smile Cassandra discovered a new postcard for the collection on her wall in the mail box. This time depicting a painting of Hongkong's skyline by night.

She flipped it while walking up the stairs to her apartment, eagerly reading the new set of films she either had already watched or planned to add to her watchlist.

Taehyung's charmingly messy handwriting making her giggle. It was quite ironic, as a doctor she was supposed to be the one with an infamous bad handwriting after all.

"some heist and spy films shot/set here:

johnny english 2, tomb raider 2, gambit (the one from 1966), revenge of the pink panther, die another day, vengeance

Wished you were here, you'd have liked it.

Love, T"

»»»

13th January

"Look, who am I?"

Cassandra's head perked up at Taehyung's random question and she almost spit out the hot tea she was sipping on. Her boyfriend was wearing his signature black sunglasses, a lollipop stick hanging loosely from between his lips and he was pointing a finger-gun at her. Causing her to burst out laughing, spilling a few drops of the beverage onto her woolen coat after all.

Of course she immediately caught the film reference but didn't want to give into his - once again - teasing of her guilty pleasure, which frankly was his, too. So instead she pursed her lips and redirected her eyes onto the vast sight of the city in front of them. Non-chalantly sipping on her tea again.

"I don't know, am I supposed to recognise that?"

Taehyung gasped at that, the half-finished lollipop almost slipping from his lips. "Mh, I'm pretty sure you do," he smirked then, glancing over his sunglasses after sliding them down the bridge of his nose. "You laughed, so you do."

She swallowed, the warmth soothing her body from the low temperature as they were sitting on the roof of Casa Batlló - thanks to the museum being closed for another renovation.

Winter wasn't particularly her favourite season. Bald trees, cold humidity and shorter days. She didn't like freezing contrary to Taehyung who enjoyed the cold over the heat of the summer. However, there was also a serenity to it. It wasn't her favourite season, but through Taehyung she started to appreciate it more.

Winter was his season while hers was spring.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

His hair was shorter, choppy bangs gracing his forehead making him look a lot younger. Reminding her of the night she'd first met him, his hair similar back then. Now looking back at that memory, it felt like an eternity ago.

His face had definitely changed since that night. It got a lot rounder, fuller with soft edges. Perhaps more mature. But the thing that would never change were his eyes. The same sparkling deep-brown almost black irises with the childlike curiosity she had falled in love with seven years ago.

Except in this moment. A sulky expression set on them due to her pretending she wouldn't recognise the film character he was portraying. A cute pout burried behind the evergreen scarf she had gifted him for his birthday. An unusual sight. Taehyung and a scarf.

She remebered knitting it within a month, working on it while watching a show or during tranquil nights at the hospital. And she was quite proud how it'd turned out, after all she'd put a lot of effort into it and even asked her grandmother for advice on how to do braid-patterns during her last visit.

Coming up with a present for someone like him was certainly not easy at all and she could also not bare seeing him walking around in the cold with an exposed neck every winter anymore. Acting like he couldn't sense anything and everytime dismissing her stern: "You'll get sick, wear a scarf!" with a sarcastical grin and a "Is that a doctor's order?" So she figured a scarf would be an ideal gift.

"The scarf.." she began but cut herself off, shaking her head before mumbling, "Nevermind," into her own scarf. Sure, she wondered whether the only reason he constantly wore it was because it was a handmade gift and he'd feel guilty if he didn't, or if he genuinely liked it. Nut at the end, it didn't matter. It served its purpose of keeping him from getting a laryngitis, since he wasn't sharing her 'onion'-style and that was the most important thinf.

His thick brows rose and Taehyung took the lollipop out with a plop before shooting her an inquiring look. "What about the scarf?"

"Nothing," she smiled nonchalantly but he could tell it wasn't nothing. Folding his lips, he only hummed. Already guessing what it was.

Her doubts were redudant. He genuinely liked the scarf and he didn't only wear it out of guilt. Besides that it was in his favourite shade of green and unbelievable soft, just the mere thought of her making him something herself despite her busy shifts, warmed him more than the scarf itself could ever do.

"Can I expect a pullover next time?" he grinned then, watching her her eyes widening.

"A pullover?"

"Yeah, since you turned out to also be a knitting-pro on top of everything else," he shrugged to which she only laughed out. She was far from being a 'knitting-pro', the only things she'd ever knitted in her life being that scarf which anyone who took a closer look on it, could tell. So she knew what he was attempting to do there and it flattered her.

"Sure, I can try," she played along, "But can't promise it'll fit."

He laughed under his breath. "How am I supposed to wear it then?"

She giggled, facing him with a smirk. "I don't know. But surely you'll firgure it out."

Taehyung only rolled his eyes, nudging her arm with his.

"Oh, by the way!" Cassandra suddenly exclaimed then when another thought surfaced and she set her cup aside, her hands reaching under her scarf and behind her neck then. He arched a curious brow when catching her fumbling with something and sturggling due to her hair. A golden chain flashing in the light then and he realised she was trying unlocking one of the necklacec around it. "I still got- ah, dammit. I just had it," she muttered frustrated when sending Taehyung's grip on her elbows. His hands gently urging her to lower her arms.

"Keep it."

Cassandra blinked. Taken aback. "I thought.." She paused, frowning. "But it's yours."

He only shook his head though. Plopping the lollipop back between his lips. "Keep it. As a promise."

Her eyes narrowed with an uncertain smirk. Intrigued at his words. "A promise? For what?"

He simply smiled, not meeting her curious glare. "For trading it with something better some day."

"Huh, like what? A platin necklace?" she joked to which he only shrugged. The candy's stick stuck between his teeth as he grinned mischieviously. "You gotta be patient, I fear."

He could hear Cassandra huffing before leaning back as well, nudging his side. And Taehyung chuckled lightly, peeking at her before taking in the afternoon sky.

Those thoughts and worries he had of the past and present still laid heavy on his mind, but when he looked at Cassandra, all he could see was the future. His future.

With her paintings and his postcards decorating their home.

"Cas?"

His girlfriend hummed in aknowledgment. Neither one taking their eyes from the beginning dusk and the glistening lights of the city. White, red, blue, yellow.

"I mean it. Some day. I can't tell you when. I can only promise you that one day, when I can leave this life behind, I wouldn't want anyone but you by my side."

He wanted to believe that one day they could make it real. He'd make sure to replace that necklace with a sapphire or ruby, his opinion not having changed after all: a diamond would be too ordinary for her.

Cassandra's lips parted. Hoping she wasn't misunderstanding his words. But when facing him and meeting his gentle eyes, she knew she didn't. And there, in the afternoon gleam she could swear he'd never looked more entchanting than in that moment.

He was such a dork. But she was quick to realize the one good thing that happened: he was her dork.

Eventually, a smile spread on her features and her hand found his, lacing their fingers together.

"I'll wait for that day then."

»»»

next chapter: 1.3 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

41 notes · View notes

steviestits · 11 months ago

Text

I Move the Stars For No One - Part 1.2

Written for a prompt dmed to me, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: After running away from home after an argument with his father, Steve storms off into the woods only to accidentally stumble into the unseelie king's lavish party. The king, Eddie as he likes to be called, is taken by Steve and dances through the night with him. Though Steve enjoys himself, he feels the need to return to the mortal realm, but soon learns that he can't as he has become property of the king after trespassing on a sacred fairy circle. Steve is forced to stay and begins to learn that all is not as it seems, especially in regards to his own past. (Labyrinth inspired story but they share zero plot points.) Trigger Warning: None for this chapter Eventual Trigger Warning: Feminization, Mating Rituals, Heats/Ruts but not the Omegaverse kind

(Link to previous part)

Startled at the sudden question, Steve looked down at his hand within Eddie’s then up at all the masked revelers around them. Though their faces were hidden, the sharp daggers of jealously still stabbed through the air, creating an atmosphere rife with contempt. Steve couldn’t stop himself from squirming a bit under the negative attention, before he carefully pulled his hand away, not wishing to draw anymore ire from the crowd.

“I’d love to, but I’m not dressed for it,” Steve said, motioning down at his plain clothes.

Eddie chuckled, “Is that all?” then snapped his fingers. A bright light surrounded Steve, engulfing him in an effulgent aura of magic, and silver sparks danced across his body, slowly transforming the clothes Steve wore into a flowing, white gown while silver-stringed ornaments wound through his hair while matching jewels appeared on his ears and neck. He also gained a pair of silver heels, though the height of the heels weren’t too high, so Steve found that he was able to keep his balance despite never wearing a pair before now.

“My dad would kill me if he saw me in this,” Steve muttered.

To which Eddie replied, “Is he here?”

“What?”

“Your dad, is here right now?”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No, he’s not.”

“Then it should be fine. It feels right, doesn’t it? Like this is where you belong?”

Steve opened his mouth to refute Eddie’s statement but closed it when he realize that what the fae king said rung true. For the first time in a long time, Steve felt comfortable with himself. He didn’t feel like he was trying to fit into a mold of his father’s creation. The more Steve thought on it, the more natural it felt. Part of him worried that it was some kind of magic making him believe all this, but for some reason, the rest of him honestly didn’t think this was the case.

“I guess it does,” he admitted eventually.

“Then you have no other objections to sharing this dance with me?”

“But I don’t have a mask.”

“Stevie, your beauty is unparalleled. It would be a crime to hide it with a mask. I want to see it while I dance with you.”

Blush colored Steve’s cheeks, and he replied, “Then can I see your face, too?”

As a reply, Eddie reached up and took the wolf mask off his face, revealing dazzling features and a pair of dimples that made Steve’s heart flutter. He then took Steve’s hand, and despite the glares that were still aimed at him, Steve allowed Eddie to lead him out onto the dance floor as a new song started to be played by unseen musicians. The ball became lively again as the crowd swayed to the harmonious melody surrounding them. None of that mattered, however, as Steve was drawn into Eddie’s presence, unable to look away from the fae king.

Eddie began to lead Steve through the dance, never taking his gaze off Steve for a second. The outside world faded away until it was as if they were the only two in the ballroom, maybe even the whole universe. Steve didn’t care that he had to follow Eddie’s lead as they spun and twirled along the dance floor. He could hear his father’s voice chiding him, telling him that he was supposed to be the one leading the dance, not following like a girl. His father seemed so far away now, though, his words barely a buzz in Steve’s ear.

The song continued, enchanting Steve in the magic of the moment. He never wanted the dance to end, because he felt safe within Eddie’s arms. Steve had only just met the fae king, but he strangely felt as if he belonged here with him, and as long as the music played, Steve would continue to exist nowhere else except within Eddie’s company.

Unfortunately, the song did eventually come to an end, and when it did, Steve drew away from Eddie, even though their eyes remained locked. He’d never met anyone who commanded the room like Eddie did, not even Steve’s father could carry himself with so much confidence that everyone else in the room was forced to pay attention to the fae king. That’s why Steve was still shocked that the other had come up to him and chose to dance with him through most of the night, that he saw Steve as special enough to warrant his time.

Steve didn’t want leave, didn’t want to go back to where he was seen as a useless failure, back to where he wasn’t seen as beautiful by a handsome fae king, but he knew that he had to get back to his home. His dad would chew him out if he was late, which he’d been doing more since Steve turned eighteen. Sometimes, it felt as if all Steve had to do was breathe to set his dad off on him about how much of a screw-up Steve was and how he hadn’t lived up to their expectations at all. So, even though Steve wanted to stay with Eddie, he didn’t want to incur his dad’s wrath any more than he already had by merely existing.

It was then with a heavy heart that he broke eye contact with the fae king and took a step back. At least he tried to, but Eddie caught Steve by the wrist to hold him in place. The grip of the fae king was stronger than Steve expected, effectively preventing Steve from leaving as he wanted. Steve tried to struggle free, but he found he was unable to budge the hand even an inch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie asked domineeringly.

“I’m heading home,” Steve said, still struggling a bit in the tight grip. “I’m sure my parents are worried about me.”

The fae king snorted in amusement. “You are home. This is where the fae belong.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I’m not fae. I stumbled into a fairy circle on accident. I’m human. I’m from the human world.”

“Sweetheart, even if you were human, once someone enters the fae realm, they can’t leave. They become property of the fae king, which is me.”

“Eddie, it’s been fun, but I really do have to go. My dad will kill me if I don’t get home in time.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, because as I said, you’re my property. He can’t touch my property, which you are.”

Then with a wave of Eddie’s hand, a silver collar with a thin chain that matched the baubles that adorned his hair. Steve tugged at the collar, but it wouldn’t budge, and when he traced his fingers along the rim, he couldn’t find a clasp. It was as if the collar had been welded together, trapping Steve in it permanently. The chain then lengthened and wrapped around Eddie’s hand, clearly denoting his ownership.

“Until you learn,” Eddie said while giving the chain a tug, drawing Steve closer. “Because you’re mine, and no one else can have you.”

Part 1.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.3

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #starsfornoone #dm prompt

26 notes · View notes

sonics-atelier · 3 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien spend years pretending to hate each other as rivals, but it only takes seven minutes in a dark closet to realize they’ve been kissing each other with passive-aggressive tension all along. Who knew academic rivalry was just foreplay?

WC: 1.2 K. Read On AO3 or below the cut.

For 31 Days Of Tamcien, Prompt - Day 20 Game Night + Day 21 Rivals To Lovers.

. . .

The quiet, industrious atmosphere of the university’s STEM department had always been Tamlin’s preferred domain—until Lucien Vanserra. Tamlin despised Lucien with the full force of a man who had spent years mastering the art of silent competition. They were academic rivals, cut from the same intellectual cloth, but, as far as Tamlin was concerned, that was where the similarities ended. Lucien's arrogant demeanor, his smirking arrogance as though his intellect were a badge of honor, and the way his eyes always seemed to gleam when he bested Tamlin made the older man seethe.

Lucien, for his part, felt much the same, though he had never openly admitted it. The rivalry was an unspoken understanding between them, a game of one-upmanship that ran as deep as the work they both did in their respective fields. They were like two lions circling one another, testing, waiting for an opening that would give them the upper hand.

It was inevitable, then, that they would clash. But they didn't expect that clash to happen on a random Thursday night, over something as ridiculous as a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

“I’m telling you,” said Vassa, leaning casually against the back of the couch, “you two need to get over yourselves. This ridiculous rivalry has gone on long enough.”

Lucien, who had been scowling over the bowl of popcorn in his lap, raised a brow. “And what exactly is it you suggest, Vassa? A friendly round of competitive physics?”

Tamlin snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what she’s getting at.”

The room erupted in laughter, but Lucien’s lips curled into a tight smirk as he met Tamlin’s eyes. He didn’t like the way his stomach fluttered slightly at the exchange, nor did he like the way Tamlin’s lips had quirked, ever so slightly, in that knowing grin.

“Fine,” Vassa said, clapping her hands. “You two are competing on something else tonight. A real competition. A fun competition. No more of this academic nonsense.”

At her words, the room filled with an air of mischief, and Vassa’s grin turned sly.

“We’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

It wasn’t a game that Lucien had ever anticipated playing, least of all with Tamlin. He had an image of the man—tall, broad-shouldered, with the sort of arrogance that matched his ambition—and the idea of being confined with him in a dark space for seven minutes made something tight coil in his chest. But, as fate would have it, the small circle of friends—Jurian, Vassa, and the others—made it happen.

“No backing out,” Vassa warned, her gaze flicking to Tamlin as the two of them grabbed their drinks. “You’re playing.”

And just like that, the universe had conspired to send them to the dark closet together.

Lucien couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “This is absolutely ridiculous. A closet, Vassa?”

Tamlin stepped up beside him, his tall frame looming close, and Lucien felt a strange shift in the atmosphere between them. Tamlin didn’t speak, but the sharpness of his presence seemed to hum through Lucien’s veins.

“Would you rather go first, or shall I?” Tamlin's voice was low, a quiet challenge, and Lucien shot him a glare before stepping into the dimly lit closet without another word.

“After you, then,” Lucien muttered, stepping past him and into the cramped space, his back brushing against Tamlin’s chest as he did.

The door clicked shut behind them, and for a moment, the room felt stifling. The air was thick with an unspoken tension that neither of them could deny. Lucien could hear his own breath, shallow and sharp, as he stood awkwardly, unsure whether to step forward or remain perfectly still.

Tamlin, as usual, broke the silence first. “Well, this is... awkward.” His voice held an edge of humor, but Lucien was far too irritated to be amused.

“I’m not the one who suggested this nonsense,” Lucien replied, his tone sharper than he intended.

Tamlin chuckled, the sound soft and almost intimate in the tight space. “That’s the thing about you, Vanserra. You always think you’re the one with the superior intellect. As if anyone really cares about your theories.”

Lucien bristled. “And you think everyone gives a damn about your family connections? You’re just a glorified prince pretending to have actual skill.”

A low, guttural laugh rumbled from Tamlin’s chest. “You’re delusional if you think I need anyone’s approval, Lucien.” His voice was suddenly much closer, and Lucien could feel the heat of Tamlin's breath against his neck.

“Let’s get this over with,” Lucien muttered, though his heart rate was beginning to pick up. There was something unsettling about being in such close proximity to the other man, but also... strangely exhilarating.

Tamlin’s words came again, softer now, tinged with an unexpected warmth. “Maybe I like this better, actually.”

Lucien whipped around to face him, eyes narrowing, but he stopped short when he found himself inches away from Tamlin’s face. His heart stuttered, his breath catching in his throat.

“What are you—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Tamlin’s lips were suddenly pressed to his, silencing him.

The kiss was brief, a soft clash of lips that seemed to take Lucien’s breath away. But the moment Tamlin pulled away, a strange realization bloomed in the pit of Lucien’s stomach. There was no hatred. No rivalry. Just an undeniable chemistry—one that neither of them had ever acknowledged.

Tamlin’s eyes were dark, intense, and just as surprised as Lucien’s own. Neither man moved for a long time, both unsure whether to step back or press forward.

“I—” Lucien started, but Tamlin silenced him again with a finger to his lips. His hand was warm against Lucien’s jaw, tilting his face upwards.

“I think we’ve been fooling ourselves,” Tamlin murmured, his lips brushing against Lucien’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I think I hate you,” Lucien breathed, his hand rising to grip the collar of Tamlin’s shirt.

Tamlin’s chuckle was low and confident, “I think you’re lying.”

The room seemed to close in around them again, the atmosphere thick with something unspoken, but this time, Lucien didn’t fight it. He leaned forward, meeting Tamlin in another kiss—deeper this time, with all the frustration, the rivalry, and the heat they had both been ignoring for far too long. The rivalry had always been there, of course, but it had been an excuse, a way to deflect from the undeniable pull that existed between them.

Lucien’s hands tangled in Tamlin’s hair, and for the first time in years, they weren’t competing. They weren’t trying to one-up each other. In that moment, they were just two people, caught in the tension that had been simmering for far too long.

Finally, when they broke apart, gasping for air, Lucien could only smirk.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless. “That was... unexpected.”

Tamlin grinned back, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t call it unexpected. We’ve been arguing like this for months.”

Lucien snorted, shaking his head. “You know, I think we might just be more compatible than I thought.”

Tamlin’s smile deepened, and for the first time, Lucien realized that it wasn’t the smirk of a rival—it was the smile of someone who had just won.

The door to the closet opened, and the rest of their friends burst in, laughter and cheers echoing through the room.

“Seven minutes in heaven, huh?” Vassa teased, winking at them both.

Lucien shot her a glance but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. “I think we’ve found our new competitive advantage.”

Tamlin’s eyes met his once more, and for the first time, Lucien didn’t mind the rivalry. It wasn’t a competition anymore.

It was something else entirely. Something far more interesting.

. . .

- @sonics-atelier 2025 ( do not repost or reuse in any way, shape or form )

6 notes · View notes

daintylovers · 1 year ago

Text

Champagne Coast

1.2 The Model Home

Seth Cohen x Hailey Atwood (oc)

Waking up in the pool house again felt like something out of a dream. Or, maybe a nightmare, you know- cause mom left. I wasn't sure which side was more accurate.

Looking around, I noticed that Ryan wasn't in the room. So I ventured into the house, waltzing around, looking for any signs of the teen boys that were sure to be together.

I found them lounging on Seth's bed, talking about comic books. Ryan didn't even look up, yet still greeted me. Seth looked more stunned, not having noticed my presence. Ryan was always a little too aware of his surroundings. Perks of having lived like we had.

"You should sit with us," Seth said, "Here I'll, just let me move a little." He patted to the small area that was left after he pulled his legs into a crossed position.

Sitting on the bed, I tried to keep up with their conversation but kept getting lost in my thoughts.

How could she just leave like that? Gone with only a note, which was written on a napkin? Not even decent enough to give us actual paper?

Screw her- I don't care. I don't need her. I don't ever want to see her again.

****

"I think, with this being your last night and all, that we should do something special, you know? Make sure you guys go out with a bang!"

Ryan just laughed, as I indulgded Seth a little more. "Oh yeah? Like what Mr. Life of the Party?"

Seth did a fake laugh, "First of all, screw you. Second of all, I have no idea. What have you guys not done? Maybe we could get tattoos and lose our virginities?" Ryan and I just shot him questioning looks, so he continued, "Not like at the same time. Like one of us gets a tattoo and the other goes in the back. The third one can eat some candy or something and then we can switch when everyone's finished!"

"That sounds awful. Plus, Ryan's already done those things."

"What?! Ryan, you got a tattoo then lost your virginity to the tattoo artist? That's kind of impressive, good job man." Seth said, leaning in for a fist bump.

Ryan reciporcated the action, "No idiot. I have a tattoo and have lost my virginity. Not at the same time."

"That's less cool than my plan. Well Hailey, looks like we might have to do it ourselves."

I kicked water at him, "Ew, I'm not doing it with you."

He put a hand to his heart in mock pain, "Hailey, that hurts, you know." Then he reached out, wrapping his hand around my ankle, preventing another splashing.

"Seth! I swear-"

"Kids, time for dinner!" Sandy, or Mr. Cohen called out.

Seth released my ankle, "You got lucky. Next time I'm really gonna pull you in." I stood up, as both boys got out of the pool. Ryan and Seth shared mischievous glances, before wrapping their wet arms around me.

"You jerks! Get off!" I laughed out, trying to push them off me, but with no luck. The boys practically dragged me into the kitchen, only letting go when they noticed the food.

As everyone fluttered around, I looked at the model home on the kitchen island. "Is this going to be real?"

Kirsten came to my side, "Yeah, my company builds them actually."

"That's cool, think you could make Ryan and me a home?" I joked, but Kirsten just sort of grimaced.

"Sorry, it was only a joke." My back stiffened at the uncomfortable tension now in the room.

"Come on Hailey, get some food," Ryan said, coming to the rescue.

I loaded up my plate and sat down at the only available spot, right next to Seth. Under his breath, he whispered, "I knew you liked me."

I whispered back, "In your dreams."

"So, last supper, huh?" Sandy tried to joke. Kirsten really did not know how to handle a joke, she looked ready to kill or crawl under a rock. Maybe both.

Ryan really was the golden boy of breaking tension, "Thank you, Mrs. Cohen. Really, this has all been very nice."

****

"So we'll meet with your social worker in the morning, and she'll be the one to take you to the group home. My contact at Social Services got you two a room with two other kids, so you won't be separated."

Ryan and I thanked the man, grateful to not be split up. I planned on running away if that happened, not prepared to live without Ryan.

Noticing how quiet we had become, Mr. Cohen tried lightening the mood, "You know, they do find foster homes for kids your age. You guys aren't lost causes." But him saying it out loud just made it hurt that much more.

Looking over at Seth, I saw that he was practically fuming, steam coming out of his ears and everything, "Yeah, because everybody is looking for two teenagers to adopt. Sorry that I'll be the only one to state the obvious, but this is so stupid,"

"Seth!"

"No, 'cause we have all this extra room right? We have the pool house, God, I mean Ally can take my room and I'll bunk with Ryan. Better yet, I'll take the couch so they can have their own space. But sending them off? To a group home no less? Don't you get home much that sucks?"

With glassy eyes, I tried to alleviate his mood, "Seth, it's okay. Really. Your parents have already helped us out so much."

Fueled by the tears in my eyes, he didn't stop, "They could do better with everything they have. With how fortunate they are."

I didn't push it, taking the pen laid out on the counter, and signing the paper, before handing it to Ryan. He copied my motions, sealing our fates.

Ryan said thanks for dinner, and I did the same before adding, "The model home really does look great. I hope everything goes well."

Kirsten gave me the first real smile of the night. It felt like I won the lottery or something. I followed Ryan back to the poorhouse, stopping only to say goodnight to Seth.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, before he burst forward, pulling me into his chest. I stumbled at the quickness and strength of it, but after regaining my balance, I hugged him back.

"Hailey, I'm so sorry. For both you and Ryan. You guys deserve better."

Now knowing not to argue with him, I pulled away and gave him a soft smile, "Night, Cohen."

He rolled his eyes, "Night, Atwood."

****

Turns out, neither of us was planning on sleeping after all.

"Are you two running away?"

I spun around, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Fuck, we had been caught.

Ryan, who wasn't shocked at the slightest, just said, "Seth, go back in the house."

"What? No way! You guys can't just run away! What are you thinking? Where are you going to go?"

Ryan ignored him, slinging both our bags on his shoulders, and started walking out. Seth and I just looked at each other, I could feel guilt crawling up my throat. So I followed Ryan. Which meant Seth followed me.

"Fine, ignore me then. Both of you. Whatever, I'll just come with. Hell, I've always wanted to go on a little All-American road trip. Stop at a weird gas station and eat shitty dinner food."

I finally spoke up, "Seth we have no money, we can't go on a road trip."

"Fair point. Where are you gonna go then?" I was also curious about this. Ryan just said pack your bags and I listened like a lost puppy.

"Not sure. Hit a town, get a job, save some money."

"That's a great plan. I can tell you put a lot of thought into it."

Ryan huffed, "You got a better idea?"

Seth, who had been keeping up with my pace behind Ryan, suddenly stopped, causing me to run into his back. "Actually, I do."

****

Those three words are how I ended up in Marissa Cooper's car. Not that the sweet girl even knew where she was going. She had to rely on Seth to give her directions from the backseat.

"Why won't you just tell me where you're going? This is pretty far."

"Wow, complaining. That's crazy considering nobody invited you." Harsh. Seth was clearly not a fan of the walking Barbie doll. But Ryan clearly was, hopping into the passenger seat without a second thought when she pulled up.

It didn't take much longer before we pulled into the driveway of an unfinished house.

Marissa voiced my thoughts, "It's kinda scary."

Seth rolled his eyes for the millionth time, "Then stay in the car." Then he promptly exited the car, waiting for Ryan and I.

Walking around the skeleton of a home, I noticed how familiar it looked. Seth caught on to my questioning glances, "Yeah, it's the one."

Ryan, who wasn't as quick to catch on asked, "What do you mean it's the one."

"It's Mrs. Cohen's model home. The one her company is building. Remember? It was on the counter."

"So you want them to stay here?" Marissa questioned, unsure about the safety of the situation.

"Yes, Malibu Barbie. Unless your parents have a second home they can borrow."

The girl thought for a second, "It's too far away."

Seth rolled his eyes once more, "Exactly. Look this place is perfect. Remember what you said Hailey, how you wished you had one of these model homes. Well, wish granted."

****

The night changed to day, and Ryan and I were still safe from whoever was sure to be looking for us.

Seth and Marissa had picked us up from the house, talking about how hunger we must be. With no clocks around, I hadn't realized it was mid-afternoon. I had slept for most of the day, exhausted from stress. Ryan, well, I'm not sure what Ryan was doing. Probably brooding in a corner somewhere.

Anyway, our two saviors showed us the way to a dinner. Ryan had Marissa on the back of his bike, weaving in between people on the boardwalk. While I was holding on for dear life, clinging to Cohen's back like he was my lifeline, he glided with ease on his skateboard.

While I was reluctant, everyone pointed out how much quicker it would be, paring up. But that still didn't stop my heart from sinking to my stomach. I'm sure Seth is a great skateboarder, but one slip is all it takes to fuck up someone's face.

I had my eyes screwed shut the whole ride, face pressed into his shoulder blades. He laughed every time one of my squeals vibrated on his back. When we started slowing down, I cracked open one of my eyes, grateful for it to be over.

We pulled to a complete stop and I immediately stepped off. Except I forgot that my balance might be all fucked, and started to tip over. Seth was quick to grasp one of my arms in a firm grip to steady me.

"One of these days, I'll teach you how to skateboard Atwood."

"Yeah, and that day will also be the day I die. All because of a stupid plank of wood with some wheels."

Seth just laughed at me, and we went inside.

****

"You okay?" Ryan questioned, once we were finally alone.

What an adventurous afternoon we had had. First, we ate, which was great because the food was amazing. But the jocks from the night before also thought the food was amazing, so we tried sneaking out. Only to end up getting caught, which was when Ryan punched Marissa's boyfriend. I can't remember his name right now but whatever. It's not like I'll see him again. Cause our little plan was crumbled into pieces when we got back. Seth's mom and a guy we learned was Marissa's dad stopped by. They talked money, an amount of money I couldn't even dream of, and then landed us our final blow of the night. The contractors were coming tomorrow. Which meant we only had tonight.

Ryan had Marissa and Seth leave, promising to say goodbye in the morning before we boarded a bus to god knows where. But knowing Ryan, we'll leave without goodbyes. They're just too painful. It's not like we need any more pain.

"I really liked it here."

"You liked it here? Or you liked someone here?"

Rolling my eyes I said, "I could ask you the same. Even with her Ken doll boyfriend, Marissa sure seemed to have a soft spot for you."

Illuminated by the candlelight, I could see Ryan's shy smile. Maybe in another universe, he would have a chance. But not in this one.

Except- apparently, I'm wrong. Because not even a minute passes before Marissa walks through the door. After a semi-awkward greeting, I left the pair alone, venturing further into the house.

A little part of me wished Seth would appear like that. So maybe I could say a proper goodbye. He felt like one of the boys you meet on vacation, and never forget.

I was lost in my thoughts for only a few minutes before I heard yelling coming from Ryan's direction. Immediately I ran to the room, shocked to see Marissa's boyfriend wrestling Ryan to the ground.

Like a goddamn cat, Ryan knew I was in the room before anyone else, shouting, "Hailey, get out of here!"

"Get off him!" I yelled at one of the other guys trying to hold Ryan down. I wasn't sure how many there were, cause they all looked like carbon cutouts. The one I lunged at, got off Ryan, thank god. But once his sights set on me, I was no match. He threw me to the ground, my head bouncing off the wood. My ears started to ring, but I tried to fight through the pain. Getting up, I punched the guy straight in the back of the neck, figuring the skull would hurt my hand too much. His head flew forward, but he was incapacitated.

"You stupid bitch!" He barked before coming at me again. He grasped the back of my head, and put his other hand over my mouth, blocking my airways. He forced me to the ground, climbing on top of me. I kept squirming in his grip, and his hand slipped just enough for me to chomp down on it.

He jumped up immediately, holding his injured hand. I took that opportunity to jerk my leg up, foot connecting with his balls. He yelped again, stumbling back, knocking one of the candles onto the ground.

Like something from a movie, the ground was ablaze immediately. I sat up, trying to catch my breath, and looked to see the guys pulling Marissa's boyfriend off Ryan, before bolting out. Literally leaving us to burn to death.

Crawling over to Ryan, I tapped his cheek a few times, trying to get him to wake up. He looked bad, and I imagined I looked the same. He eyes fluttered open and he reached a hand up to cup my jaw.

"Ryan, it's fine, we gotta go," I huffed out. My breathing still hadn't returned to normal. Which might have had more to do with the smoke I was inhaling than the guy's hands around my throat and mouth.

I got Ryan to sit up, before he stood on his own. I stood as well, then slung an arm around his waist, so we could hobble out before potentially dying a firey death.

We made it outside before I panicked, "Ryan, our clothes. All our stuff!" I let go of his waist, turning to go back inside and salvage what I could. But Ryan immediately yanked me back to him.

"Hailey, it's no use. The police will be here any minute. Let's just get out of here." He had a fair point, and I hated it. Why us?

We started walking, making it half a mile before a car pulled up beside us. Rolling down the window, I saw it belonged to the worst guy in the world. This was saying something, considering my dad was in prison and my older brother was the reason my life had fallen apart so suddenly only days before.

"You two are okay." He said, relived.

"Was your plan not to burn or beat us to death?" I questioned, continuing to walkway. No way was I getting in that car. He would probably just run it off the road, killing us in a car accident instead.

He tried again, "Where are you going?"

"Away from your sorry ass," I said, still not stopping.

"The three of us keep our mouths shut, they may never know it was us." That's when I stopped, I turned around and marched to the driver's side. He just looked at me, I didn't bother deciphering his expression before my fist went straight into his nose.

His head flew back and I heard Ryan laugh from the other side of the car.

"That's fair," Ken-doll said, "Hey man, wait, what are you doing?" I was thinking the same, as I saw Ryan's head pop up next to the guys in the car.

"You're giving us a ride."

****

I know I had been dreaming about Seth earlier, but this is not how I wanted us to reunite.

"Hailey, your neck," Seth said, bursting forward as soon as I was in view. Ryan had the guy, Luke was his name, drive us to the Cohen's. Where, of course, the whole neighborhood was gathered.

Seth didn't get very far before a police officer blocked his view, standing in front of Ryan and me. "Ryan and Hailey Atwood, I've got some questions for you two."

Ryan and I turned around and held out our wrists, all too familiar with this process.

"Wait, you can't just arrest them!" I could hear Seth shout.

"Sir, step back. You two, this way." The officer said, leading to the cop car.

"It was an accident." Luke stepped up. I turned to face him, giving him a surprised glance.

"You were there?" The officer asked, doubtful that one of the regular Newport teens would participate in such debauchery.

"Yeah"

"Then we got some questions for you as well." And I watched Luke get cuffed as well.

"Officer, I'm the twin's attorney. Please don't ask them any questions unless I'm present. Ryan, Hailey, don't say anything until I get there. Luke, you as well."

#fanfic #fic rec #ryan atwood #fiction #seth cohen x oc #seth cohen #adam brody #oc fanfiction

23 notes · View notes