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viaviavie · 4 months ago

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OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #viaviavie writes #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader

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rafeslvbug · 15 days ago

Note

reqqq hockey player!rafe and reader getting in an argument i wanna see angst😭 maybe reader sees a girl flirting w rafe and he doesn't react or push her

you didn’t know what to think when you saw the girl against rafe’s locker, his arm over her head, her fingers hooked around his tie. you tried not to stare, really you hadn’t meant to, but it was like magnetism. drawn to the torturous sight, the image of a girl putting her hands all over him when he’d been yours for a fraction of a night - a week ago.

the party.

that fateful night where you both got drunk, and you woke up in his bed. he left you with an unspoken promise that it’d happen again, now as you saw it, he’d moved on.

just like that. you were forgotten.

the red head wrapped around his neck, listening to his every word like an eager puppy was both the object of your repulsion and in a position you so desperately craved. but you forced yourself to look away, to collect your books and not slam your locker as loud as you wanted to, or even trip the two up in the hallway.

that didn’t mean rafe noticed you any less. he didn’t miss how you shoved past them, how tensed you look, how you avoided him in all lessons. admittedly he had thought of a million ways to try and talk to you the past week since the morning you woke up in his bed. he had been so bold then, and everything had gone downhill since. he hadn’t known how to ask you out on a date, or do any of the things he thought you might like - he had spent too long being inconsistent, flitting between girls to stabilise even when he found the one person he wanted most.

he hated it. in every sense of the word, it made him want to chase after you and lock himself away all at once, aching and ashamed. stuck wanting a girl he wouldn’t let himself have.

yet he tried anyways to speak to you at lunch, catching you right when you walked away from your friends. “you ignorin’ me, flash?” he drawls, attempting to pretend like he doesn’t know why you’re giving him the cold shoulder - a bad move on his part.

scoffing, you don’t even grace him with an answer, although that’s an answer enough. not much of a hint, however, since he grabs your arm, spinning you back around to face him. “okay, don’t ignore me, please,” he asks, tilting his head to catch your wandering eyes.

“why not?” your gaze lands on him, sharp, precise, cutting. your eyes pierce through him, burning holes shamelessly.

“i don’t like it,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“yeah well there’s a few things i don’t like about you rafe!” you snap, wrenching your arm free from his grips.

“hey, come on, don’t get angry.”

“don’t get angry?” you whip around, brows furrowing with bewilderment. “you kiss me! multiple fucking times! you say all this bullshit, make me think that maybe for once you’re not an asshole! and then you do..that!” you gesture wildly at the red head standing off to the side, chatting with rafe’s friends, and probably flirting with them as much as she flirts with rafe.

“it’s not like that..” he murmurs, though he knows you’re right, he just wished he didn’t overcomplicate things so much.

“it is! it’s exactly like that! you’re– fuck you rafe, alright? you are an asshole, and that night was a mistake!”

“don’t say that–“ he pleads, hands wrapping around your wrists to pull you closer to him.

“don’t talk to me! go back to your red head, pry her away before she kisses one of your friends!” you shove against his chest, blinking back the hotness brimming your eyes and walking away before he can get another word in.

it plays on rafe’s mind for the rest of the day, he abandons the red head, though he’s sure he doesn’t even hear him when she starts giggling over a new man. he doesn’t care, he only cares about you. currently, it’s the only thing that drives him at 11pm, to stay behind at school and make his way to the one place he knows you’ll be - the rink.

you’re trying to clear your head, skating around, headphones on and focusing on the feeling of the ice underneath your feet. then there are hands on your waist, painfully familiar, gracefully spinning you around to face him. rafe hooks his finger under the band of your headphones, tugging it down to rest on your neck, “hey there..”

you skate back, trying not to slip on the ice as you escape his grip, “did you really have to bother me here?”

“i’m not tryna bother ya.”

“but you are, you won’t leave me alone after everything–“

“i do like you!”

“really? you call that liking someone? kissing them and moving on to a new girl?” you fold your arms over your chest, watching as his brows pinch, trying to figure out what to say next.

“no..no, i just– i don’t–,” rafe groans, running a hand down his face before releasing a heavy sigh. “i don’t usually do relationships, i didn’t know how to treat you properly, so i fucked it up,” he admits.

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nod. “yeah, you did,” you agree, voice barely a whisper, beginning to get chills from underdressing for the ice at night. you notice rafe moving closer, his body warmth emanating from him and onto you, nearly pulling you in.

“i’m sorry..” he whispers, face dangerously closer to yours, head dipping low to yours and hands placed under your elbows. you stay quiet, lips drawn together in a tight pout, prompting him to keep saying, “no more red heads, or other girls, i’ll figure out how to take you on dates, you can walk me like your little dog, how ‘bout that?”

“huh,” you fight back the smile tugging at your face, head cast down to avoid him seeing, but he only nudges it back up with his fingers tapping your chin.

“yeah ‘m sure you like that,” he chuckles, letting one arm wrap fully around your waist and the other slipping around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, his head tilted down to the side. “so what d’you say? give me a chance?”

“you’re sorry?” you confirm, letting him wrap you like a personal blanket.

“so sorry,” he murmurs, lips hovering above yours now. “forgiven just yet?”

“not yet..you’ve still got work.”

“i can work,” he mumbles, before pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips. “i can do that.”

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @supasolaa @octoberbxbyy

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averyspizookies · 19 days ago

Text

Locked.

Part one.

Pairing: Final four UCLA Azzi x UConn Paige, Enemies to lovers.

Word count: 6.8k

Note: hi guys, I really hope you all enjoy this!! It’s based off the clip of juju saying “I hate ucla bro” lol, so yeah I had fun writing it. It’s not well edited, but I really want you guys to give more feedback, it’s how I was inspired to write most of guarded and I miss y’all!! Anons or dms even always welcome. Thank you all for reading. Let me know if you see any errors!🤍

My master list

____ ____ ____

“Bro—I’m not guarding that hoe.”

Paige’s voice echoed through the nearly empty hotel conference room the UConn team had taken for the night. Her chair squeaked as she leaned back dramatically, arms flung wide like she was being personally victimized by the film.

KK didn’t even look up. Just sighed, her cheek smushed into her notebook, highlighters and half-dead pens scattered. “Well,” she mumbled, “you kinda don’t have a choice.”

Paige groaned, “I’m serious. I hate UCLA. Like, on a spiritual level. They’re all—sunny and shit. With their stupid faces and tans like they live in a fucking Nike commercial.”

Across the table, Ice glanced up from her screen, eyebrows raised. “Paige. Half the stuff you just said isn’t even remotely basketball-related.”

“I knowww,” Paige drawled, already halfway draped over her chair, sounding offended by the very existence the West Coast. “But it’s still true. They’re too... happy.”

“I dunno...” Caroline piped up, voice calm, but curious. She was scribbling something in the margins of a notepad, but her eyes flicked up. “Azzi seems kinda nice. Off the court, I mean.”

Paige sat up like someone had just personally offended her. “Nice? Not with the way she plays.”

“She literally isn’t even a dirty player,” KK said, finally looking up, confused.

“No, no, no—y’all don’t get it.” Paige huffed, already flipping open her laptop with laser focus. “Here. Let me educate you.”

She fast-forwarded through last year’s matchup against UCLA with the speed and precision of someone who’d watched it on loop.

“Thirteen forty-two,” she muttered, timestamp burned into her memory.

The video froze on Azzi Fudd, calm and composed, dribbling the ball up the court like she had all the time in the world—like gravity didn’t exist for her. Paige unpaused, and there it was: the shot.

No hesitation. No pass. No screen. Just Azzi, the ball, and the net. The swish was so clean it sounded like water,

It haunted Paige.

“Bro, so what?” Ice asked, pulling back from the screen, her voice casual but amused. “That’s just—”

“So what?” Paige cut in, incredulous, already gesturing wildly. “That’s fucking— it’s just—”

“A good play?” KK offered, sipping from her water bottle, barely hiding her smirk.

The other girls giggled, and Paige scowled, eyes still locked on the paused video like it had insulted her.

“Whatever. She’s a bitch,” Paige muttered, slamming her laptop shut. “Trust me.”

“You’ve literally never talked to her,” Ice pointed out, gathering her chargers and cords.

“Don’t need to. I can feel it,” Paige insisted, shoving things into her bag with uneeded aggressiveness “She has bitch energy. bitch aura.”

KK was already halfway to the door with Ice, but she turned back, grinning like she was about to drop a grenade. “Maybe you just wanna get in her pants.”

Ice exploded with laughter, nearly choking as she tried—and failed—to cover it up with a cough. The two of them disappeared through the door, still cracking up.

Paige was left alone in the quiet room, surrounded by the glow of half-lit screens and scribbled scouting notes.

“Hell no,” she grumbled, even though her face felt a little too warm and she suddenly couldn’t look at the paused image of Azzi on her laptop without thinking about the way her ponytail bounced when she shot, or the way her eyes didn’t blink after she followed through.

No. Absolutely not.

She slammed her laptop shut again.

Definitely not.

***

The UCLA team rolled into the Final Four hotel like a wave of California sun, dressed head-to-toe in royal blue and gold. There wasn’t a hair out of place or a single scuffed sneaker in sight. They looked every bit the part of a team built for the big stage—cool, polished, camera-ready.

They strolled through the lobby like it was a runway, a day out from their Final Four matchup against South Carolina. A rope separated fans from the players, but it didn’t stop the noise—screams, phones raised high, posters waving in hopes of a signature or even a glance.

Most of those screams were for one person.

Azzi Fudd didn’t acknowledge them. Not really. A polite smile here, a wave there, but never long enough to feed the frenzy. She moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had learned long ago that attention was a currency—and too much of it could bankrupt your peace.

She’d been “the star” since her sophomore year, though she’d never say it out loud. You didn’t have to.

Slam covers. GQ. Vogue. A $3 million Nike deal dropped just months ago that had turned her from basketball prodigy into a full-blown brand. Ten million on Instagram. More on TikTok. She didn’t even run half of it anymore—there was a team for that. A fan favorite? Understatement. Fans didn’t just support her; they idolized her. Worshipped her like goddess.

Edits of her game highlights mixed with thirst-trap music regularly hit millions of views. Every game day, her name trended.

She moved through the lobby with her best friend and teammate Lauren beside her, flanked by security. Lauren was the only person who never changed around her—never acted like she was someone to tiptoe around.

“Ughhhh,” Lauren groaned the second she face-planted onto the plush hotel bed, the mattress dipping with a satisfying thump.

“I know,” Azzi replied, flopping down beside her, voice muffled in the pillows.

March had been a blur of red-eye flights, endless film sessions, bruising practices, and must-win games. And now, they were here. The Final Four. Another night, another city…

But tomorrow? Tomorrow wasn’t just another game. It was South Carolina.

And maybe, just maybe... after that? UConn.

Azzi sighed again, but this one came from somewhere deeper in her chest. The part that still remembered last year. And the year before.

“What the hell are we gonna do about UConn?” she blurted, still face-down.

Lauren groaned and turned her head, dark curls spilling over her cheek. “What?”

Azzi rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling like it had answers. “They’re not here to mess around. Paige—she’s not leaving without that championship.”

Lauren blinked at her for a second. “Well... neither are you.”

Azzi didn’t reply.

Lauren sat up a little. “We’re ready. We’ve got you. We’ve got height. UConn’s bigs are good, but they don’t dominate the post like they used to. And you’re averaging twenty-three a game, Az. We’ve got this.”

Azzi nodded, slowly. Lauren was right. Technically. Statistically. But reality wasn’t always made of numbers.

They both knew the truth: if Azzi or Lauren went down—or even just had an off night—the rest of the roster cracked like glass under pressure. It had happened before. Too many times.

They didn’t have depth. They had each other.

And tomorrow, it had to be enough.

“I gotta stop Blondie,” Azzi muttered.

Lauren burst out laughing. “Right. And she’ll be trying to stop you. You two are like... the same person, just on opposite coasts.”

Azzi made a gagging noise and stuck out her tongue. “Don’t even say that.”

Lauren grinned, unfazed. “I mean... c’mon. Both of you are bajillionaires. Both have followers in the tens of millions. Both have armies of fans thirsting over edits. Both of you are the face of your programs.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and flopped an arm over her face. “God, you’re annoying.”

“Admit it. You’re the West Coast Paige.”

Azzi lifted her arm just enough to shoot Lauren a look. “Please. If I ever start flailing around and yelling at my teammates mid-game like she does, bench me.”

Lauren cackled. “That’s fair.”

Still, the words stuck. Paige was UConn’s golden girl—their anchor, their edge, their fire. Everything Azzi was for UCLA. Their rivalry was iconic. Edited to hell and back. Every time they met on the court, it was like the internet paused to watch. Azzi never let herself look too close, but sometimes... she did. And that was the problem.

“Whatever,” Azzi said, shaking the thoughts out of her head. She sat up and grabbed her sneakers. “Let’s go.”

Lauren blinked. “Go? Go where?”

“The gym.”

Lauren sat up like Azzi had just suggested running a marathon. “Azzi. We just got off a plane. My knees are still vibrating.”

Azzi tugged on her arm, relentless. “Yeah, well—tough. I want to win.”

Lauren groaned but grabbed her gym bag anyway, mumbling something. As they reached the door, she gave Azzi a long look.

“You know... you’re not as nice as everyone thinks.”

****

“C’mon bro, let’s go. Just real quick,” Paige whispered urgently, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Ice, lounging sideways on a stiff hotel bench in the hallway, arched a brow and glared at her. “Paige. Madison. Bueckers.”

“Yeah?” Paige grinned, dragging her voice into something sugary and innocent, eyes wide and untrustedworthy.

“You are six feet tall and a fully grown adult woman. You’re more than capable of getting shots up alone.”

Paige crouched beside Ice like a little kid. “Yeah, but—” she took Ice’s hand in her own—“it wouldn’t be any fun without my very best friend there.”

Ice smacked her hand away with a smirk. “You’re such a pain.”

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you. For 30 minutes. No more.”

She tossed her gym bag over her shoulder, blonde hair whipped into a messy bun, in black UConn warmup pants and a slate gray shirt still damp from earlier shootaround. Ice sighed, tugging her hoodie over her braids and muttering under her breath as they wandered down the hotel corridors, lost twice and laughing about it both times.

Then, Paige shoved open the double doors to the gym.

Immediately, Ice stopped dead in her tracks.

“Bruh, Ice—what’s your deal?” Paige asked, crashing into her back.

Ice didn’t move, eyes locked on the court. “We should come back later.”

“What? Why?” Paige slipped around her, utterly confused. “It’s not like—”

Her words cut short as she stepped into the gym.

There were already people here.

Lauren Betts stood alone near the far basket, 6’7”, commanding space like gravity. Her UCLA shorts clung to her frame, her form fluid and efficient. Watching her in person—up close—was different. The stats on paper didn’t show how naturally dominant she was. She wasn’t just tall. She was elegant in the way skyscrapers are elegant.

Paige gave Ice a look. “It’s fine.”

Ice hesitated, then followed her.

They set up on the opposite half-court, silently respecting the invisible boundary. Sneakers squeaked against the floor as Lauren continued her workout, sweat glistening down her back. Paige and Ice tied their laces, then jumped right in—Paige leading one-on-one drills, exploding into the lane, her footwork a blur of muscle memory and talent.

Every jumper was water. Every crossover was tight, slick. Her passes snapped through space like knives. The kind of flow that made time irrelevant.

She didn’t hear the gym door creak open.

Didn’t hear footsteps.

Didn’t notice the sudden shift in temperature.

But Lauren did.

“Azzi!” she said, a little too brightly. Too forced.

Paige froze—not because of the name, but because of the tone. Her back straightened like a shot. She turned, slowly.

There she was.

Azzi Fudd. In nothing but UCLA-rolled shorts, a royal blue sports bra, and sweat-kissed curls braided into a bun that framed her face like something out of a GQ shoot. Her face, flushed from rinsing off in the bathroom, was unreadable—but her eyes?

They were daggers.

“Don’t,” Azzi snapped at Lauren, already annoyed.

Lauren offered a helpless shrug.

“Well. Look who it is,” Azzi said, voice syrupy-sweet and sharp as a blade. She walked forward, arms crossed, her stare pinned straight on Paige like a heat-seeking missile.

The tension snapped like a rubber band pulled too far.

Paige turned fully now, her hands resting on her hips, her expression unreadable but undeniably smug. “Azzi Fudd. How are you?”

There was no warmth in her voice. Just a hollow echo of politeness. A taunt wrapped in pleasantry.

Azzi cocked her head, cool and unbothered. “I’m great. Ready to play.”

They stared each other down, less like rivals and more like predators unsure which one was hungrier.

They didn’t blink.

They didn’t break.

They hated each other.

And not in the cliché way most people claim to hate their rivals. This wasn’t school spirit, or trash talk, or even competitiveness.

This was personal.

But neither could say why.

“Good,” Paige said finally, breathing out slowly, like she had to push the word out past her pride. “That’s good.”

Azzi smiled—chill, collected, cold. “I hope to see you guys on the court. It’s always… fun, to play against you.”

Paige chuckled dryly, a sound that lacked all humor. “Yeah. Sure. ‘Fun.’”

Their gazes clashed in the middle of the court—blue eyes against brown, California sunshine versus Minnesota. Neither flinched.

Azzi held her smirk a second longer, then turned and walked back toward Lauren, her strides sharp, her presence magnetic. Without a word, she picked up the ball and started drilling again—only harder now, sharper.

Paige turned back to her side of the court too, jaw tight, pulse quicker than before. She hadn’t lost control. Not really. But something was different now.

*****

Ice, Paige and Azzi, Lauren all worked. The coexisted in the space even though the air felt charged-and it was.

After Lauren missed a step for the second time in a row Azzi groaned.

“Lauren! Cmon.”

She sighed and whipped her sweat off her hands, lookimg back to Azzi. “I'm tired Az! And so are you. Can we leave? It’s been like an hour and a half.”

Azzi glanced over quickly to where Paige and ice were.

They were blowing through some drill where Paige blocked ices shot and kicked out for a three.

She was sweating- probably out of breath too.

But still, she was full out sprinting each time, never missing, always talking to ice.

She pulled her head back.

“No..not yet.”

Lauren’s gave her a glare, following where her eyes had just been. “Really?”

Azzi locked eyes with her, still breathing heavily dispite wanting to keep going. “Really what?”

“Azzi” she started, “I’m not stupid.” Lauren’s voice dropped down to a whisper. She glanced over Azzi's shoulder again to motion towards Paige. “I know you just wanna stay here and work longer then Paige…for whatever stupid feud you too have going on.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she was completely right.

She grabbed the ball out of Lauren’s hands and started dribbling. “Cmon, let’s shoot some threes.”

“Your evil Fudd.”

****

Paige… I’m gonna pass away,” Ice groaned dramatically, sprawled half-upright against the wall.

“You’re not dying,” Paige replied flatly, the words almost lost beneath the crisp swish of her shot ripping through the net. She was locked in; shoulders square, eyes sharp, every release a surgical strike.

“No. I am. This is it. I’m leaving this world sweaty and betrayed.”

Paige didn’t look her way. Just caught the ball off the bounce and let another three fly, all net. “If you die, can I have your slides?”

Ice rolled her eyes so hard her whole head tipped back against the wall. It had been over 90 minutes of nonstop one-on-one drills, makeshift shooting contests, and—more than anything—unspoken warfare between Paige and Azzi across the court.

Neither of them said a word to each other.

But the tension screamed.

They mirrored each other perfectly: the same relentless drive, the same stubborn refusal to quit, the same stolen glances.

It was like a silent chess match. Only with sneakers, sweat, and pride.

And Ice? She was done.

She let out a fake cough loud enough to rattle the gym. It echoed.

Neither Paige nor Azzi looked up.

But someone did.

Lauren.

Across the court, Lauren caught Ice’s exhausted eye and tilted her head with concern. Ice looked at her, nodded dramatically toward her own body and mouthed, “I’m dead.”

Lauren barely smirked, but the laugh hit her eyes. She mouthed back, “Me too.”

UCLA and UConn weren’t even rivals, not officially. But the Azzi-Paige Cold War could’ve melted steel beams. The two of them acted like the other’s existence personally offended them—but even that didn’t explain the weird electricity in the air.

Lauren’s gaze flicked toward the locker room hallway. She tilted her head meaningfully, mouthing, “Meet me?”

She stood up slowly, muscles stiff from shooting, and started walking toward the bathroom. Ice caught the signal and nodded.

As Ice made her move, Paige finally snapped out of her shooting trance.

“Ice?” she called, not looking away from the hoop. “Where’re you going?”

Ice froze for half a second. “Bathroom. Real quick,” she said casually, already halfway down the court. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Paige just hummed and sank another jumper.

Azzi didn’t look up either, but Ice noticed her brows twitch the moment Paige spoke.

Curious.

The door clicked shut behind Ice as she slipped into the bathroom. Lauren was already leaning against the counter, pulling her hair out of its sweaty bun and sighing.

Ice didn’t waste time. “We need to do something about them.”

Lauren didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”

“Like… what even is their problem?”

“I don’t think even they know,” Ice muttered. “It’s like they hate each other, but also can’t stop looking at each other like they wanna… I don’t know. Fight or kiss or fight and kiss.”

Lauren snorted. “Right?! Thank you. I’ve been saying that. No one else sees it!”

“Oh, I see it,” Ice said, pacing now.

“So what are you thinking?” Lauren asked,

Ice paused and looked at her. “Okay. Don’t call me crazy.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a promising start.”

“I’m serious. I get a vibe. I think they’re into each other. Or at least—something. Something messy and probably way more interesting than either of them would admit.”

Lauren leaned in. “Keep talking.”

“Well,” Ice began, smirking now, “even if they’re not into each other, they’re gonna have to figure this out eventually. We have a few single rooms left open, right?”

Lauren’s eyes widened slightly.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s evil.”

“I know,” Ice whispered, grinning like the Grinch. “But it’s also kind of genius.”

Lauren burst out laughing, her whole body shaking. “Oh my god. You're insane. I’m in.”

****

They slipped out of the bathroom like criminals on a mission.

The plan? Foolproof. Dirty. Beautiful.

Get Paige in first.

Say it was about going live.

Use her one weakness.

And let the rest fall into place.

Ice led the way, casual as hell, phone in hand like she was just scrolling TikTok. But her brain was calculating every move like it was game point. She dropped herself dramatically onto the hardwood, legs sprawled, phone propped up against her knee.

Time to bait the hook.

“Paaaige,” she drawled out, voice extra whiny, like a little sister trying to get her way. “C’mon, dude.”

Paige, mid-dribble, didn’t even turn fully. Just flicked her eyes over. “What, Ice?” Her tone was short, distracted, a little annoyed. Classic locked-in Paige. Even this late, she was still trying to one-up Azzi across the court.

“We’re done,” Ice said. “It’s literally two a.m. We. Are. Leaving.”

Paige sucked her teeth and let the ball roll back into her palm. “Yeah, aight. You can go. I’m stayin’.”

She squared back up at the top of the key, body angled, hips light. She moved like she was in her own world. Just her and the rim.

Until Ice dropped the magic words.

“If you leave right now… we’ll go live.”

Paige froze mid-shot. The ball still in her hands, forgotten.

“You deadass?” she asked, brows raised. “Ice, don’t play with me right now.”

Ice gave a nod, biting back a smirk. “Deadass. You know I hate going live but— Let’s give the people what they want.”

Paige squinted. She was suspicious, but intrigued. “You being for real? Like, we’ll actually go live? Not that ‘five minutes and end it’ shit?”

“I’m talking real live. Long live. Comments on. No filter.”

Paige hesitated, then slowly cracked a grin. “Say less.”

She jogged over to grab her bag, tossing her head back and wiping sweat off her neck with the collar of her shirt. Her grey UConn tee clung to her like she’d just showered in it, and her hair was a wild mess of curls pulled into a lopsided bun.

“I gotta shower first, though,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Not tryna go live lookin’ like a raccoon.”

Ice nodded casually, already rolling into Phase Two. “Bet. Actually, I need to shower too. I was thinking…”

She paused like she just now thought of it.

“…since the team rooms are all right next to each other, and it’s stupid late, what if we used one of the extra rooms across the hall? Less noise. Plus it’s got its own bathroom.”

Paige stopped for half a second, clearly thinking. Then she shrugged. “Aight, cool. That’ll work. I’ll hit the shower first, come in like twenty?”

Ice smiled, trying to look chill but barely holding back. “Say less.”

She watched as Paige turned and strutted off toward the elevators, humming under her breath, already dreaming about Instagram comments and dumb livestream filters.

Behind her, Ice pulled out her phone and sent one message to Lauren:

“Room secured. It’s go time.”

***

“Lauren?” Azzi asked, glancing over as she wiped sweat from her temple. “I think they’re leaving. Would you like to head out now?”

“Yes! Finally,” Lauren said, a bit too enthusiastically. Then, stepping closer with a sudden thought, she added, “Oh, also—I was thinking about doing some yoga before bed. If you’re up for it. I just didn’t want to get our room all messy, so maybe we could use one of the extra rooms?”

Azzi blinked, surprised. Lauren never suggested yoga. Usually, Azzi had to beg. “Sure, sounds good. I’ll rinse off first.”

“Alrighty,” Lauren replied, the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to smile too hard.

They left the gym a few minutes after Paige and Ice, casually making their way back to the dorms. Inside their room, Lauren slid the door open and stepped in first, pausing just long enough to surprise Azzi again.

“You can go first. I’m going to text Jayden real quick.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Jayden? Who is that?”

“Oh. Just… some guy,” Lauren lied smoothly, avoiding eye contact as she reached for her clothes. In truth, "Jayden" was the code name for Ice—they’d coordinated this entire plan together.

Azzi didn’t push. She just nodded as she grabbed her towel. “Alright. But I want to hear all about this mystery man when I’m done.”

“Promise,” Lauren replied, already tapping away on her phone.

Lauren: Hey, Azzi’s in the shower now. Should be about 15 minutes ‘til we head over.

Ice: gotcha, Paige is already in the room. Left her phone on the table too

Lauren: they’re so perfectly stupid it’s painful. I’ll text when I drop Azzi in.

Ice: bet 🫡🫡

The sound of water running filled the room, and not long after, Azzi stepped out. Her curls were looser now, stretched from the conditioner. The front half of her hair was still braided, the rest hanging wet down her back. She threw on a pair of Nike Pro shorts and a UCLA hoodie that swallowed her frame. Her signature Stewie socks peeked out above her slides.

“Laur? You ready?” she called, finishing brushing her teeth.

“Yep!” Lauren answered a little too quickly. She tried to play it off with a casual nod. “All set.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m totally fine. Why?”

“No reason,” Azzi said with a shrug. She stepped into her slides and followed Lauren out.

Once they were walking, Lauren texted again.

Lauren: Heading over now.

They strolled toward the extra room, which was a short walk from the main UCLA block. Azzi stayed focused on her phone—probably checking team emails—while Lauren’s attention locked onto the door ahead. She felt her pulse tick upward.

Lauren pulled the keycard from her pocket and swiped it.

“Can I see your phone for a second? I think I might’ve posted something by accident,” she said casually.

Azzi, distracted, didn’t hesitate. “Sure.” She handed it over and stepped into the room.

The moment she crossed the threshold, her eyes landed on the bag and clothes thrown over the bed. Her stomach dropped.

“I’m pretty sure this is someone else’s room,” she said, turning sharply toward Lauren.

Lauren just smiled, stepped back, and closed the door with a sharp click. Locked.

“Lauren! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Az! We’ll be back in the morning,” Lauren called through the door.

“We’ll? Who’s we?!”

That’s when Paige’s voice called from the bathroom. “Ice? That you?”

Azzi’s eyes widened in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ice strolled up beside Lauren, already laughing.

Inside, Azzi slapped her palm against the door. “Lauren! What the hell!”

“Sorry Az!” Lauren shouted back, voice chipper.

“Y’all have fun in there!” Ice added, barely containing her giggles.

“Ice? Seriously?” Azzi groaned. Then she paused. “Wait—do you have my phone?”

“Yup!” Lauren answered through the door, practically glowing. “Told you, we’ll grab you in the morning.”

“Bye Azzi! Tell Paige I said goodnight!” Ice chirped before the two conspirators walked away, still giggling.

From inside, Azzi could still hear them laughing down the hall.

Then the shower stopped.

Out walked Paige, towel slung over her shoulders, sports bra on, shorts low on her hips. Her eyes flicked up when she spotted Azzi standing by the locked door.

“Yo. Azzi?” Paige said, confused, water still dripping down her back.

“Yep,” Azzi replied with a resigned sigh.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Paige asked, voice deep and unbothered, arms folding across her bare chest.

Azzi crossed her arms too and pointed at the door. “Lauren and Ice thought it would be hilarious to lock us in here for the night.”

Paige’s eyes followed the motion. She walked over and tugged the handle twice. Nothing.

“Your joking.”

“Nope.”

With a muttered curse, Paige banged on the door. “Ice! Stop playin, open the door!”

From the bed, Azzi said dryly, “You really think I haven’t already tried that?”

“Man, shut up,” Paige muttered, not looking at her.

Azzi lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine. Do your thing.”

Paige gave the door one last shake, then turned, annoyed.

“You try callin’ somebody?”

“Lauren has my phone,” Azzi answered calmly. “What about yours?”

Paige dragged a hand down her face. “… I left it on the table.”

Azzi threw her hands in the air. “Well. Looks like we’re stuck.”

Paige sucked her teeth and dropped down into a chair across from the bed. “this is some bullshit.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

She stared at Azzi for a moment, jaw working like she wanted to snap but didn’t have the energy. Then she leaned back with a grunt.

“Nah. Guess I don’t.”

“Mhm,” Azzi murmured, folding her legs beneath her. “Didn’t think so.”

They sat in the thick quiet for a second—Paige glaring at the floor, Azzi watching her from the bed. Neither spoke, but the tension in the room hung heavy, thick as humidity. And neither of them looked away.

****

Back in Ices room, her and Lauren sat on the bed talking.

“So, you have like any real idea why those too hate each other?” Lauren asked.

“Not really” ice replied. “Paige is..stubborn to say the least, when set her mind on hating Azzi, it’s not changed.”

“Same for Azzi. There like, the same person.”

“I know!”

“You know what we should do? Let’s go live right now.” Ice said.

Lauren nodded and moved closer to ice on the bed, getting in frame for the tik tok live.

Ice started it and the comments rolled in.

“Ice and Lauren?? What kinda duo is this?”

“Why are yall together this is so random😭😭”

“Acting like yall don’t have game tmrw night smh😪”

“Where’s Paige and Azzi?”

It’s not uncommon for fans to ask about Paige and Azzi, them being the stars.

Lauren looked over at ice, giving her a side eye at the comment then laughing.

“Umm who are Paige and Azzi?” Ice said at the camera, her voice dripping in sarcasm as Lauren laughed.

The chats started blowing up

‘WAITT why yall laughing 🤨🤨’

‘Suspicioussss’

‘Maybe Paige and Azzi duo soon’

“Doubt it” Lauren said under her breath at the last comment, which of course the chat caught

‘WHAT ARE YALL HIDINGGG’

‘Acting mad strange right about now’

‘Lauren wdym bro😭😭’

“Me and ice aren’t good enough for yall?” Lauren said, while ice snickered.

‘Nooo just let us know where Azzi and Paige are🤫🤫’

Ice and Lauren both read the comment, then ice answered.

“Umm Azzi and Paige are..busy”

‘BUSY DOING WHAT?’

‘What is going on atp🤨🤨🤨’

‘Mhmm so there together #NewDuoAlert’

“Yall are messy” ice laughed

****

“We’re in here for the night, you know,” Azzi said, her voice cutting through the thick silence.

“Yeah. Figured.” Paige didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on the carpet.

Azzi tossed a pillow in her direction. “You take the bathtub.”

The pillow hit Paige’s chest with a soft thump. She caught it, then lifted her eyes slowly, a brow raised. “You’re joking.”

Azzi’s arms crossed, mouth pulled in that maddeningly calm way she had. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, standing a little straighter. “Because you’d have to be out of your damn mind to think you’re getting the bed that easy.”

A pause.

Azzi held her stare for a moment too long. Then, voice softer, quieter: “Why do you hate me?”

That caught Paige off guard. It wasn’t defensive. It wasn’t even bitter. Just... curious.

She hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, which was dangerous—truth always was with Azzi. “Because I hate UCLA, maybe. And you... you basicallyare UCLA.”

“Mhm.” Azzi’s eyes didn’t leave hers. There was something unreadable in them. Not challenge. Not sarcasm. Just... presence.

“Why?” Azzi asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you hate UCLA?”

Paige shrugged like it was stupid, like this conversation wasn’t unraveling her from the inside out. “You guys are all... blue and shit.”

Azzi laughed. Like, really laughed. And damn it, it made Paige want to smile too.

“What’s funny?” she asked, lips twitching.

“I’ve just never been hated for a color before.”

“New experience for you then,” Paige said, smirking now. The tension shifted, a little looser. Still there, but not choking.

“Okay. Then why do you hate me?” Paige asked, firing it back like a challenge she didn’t mean to make.

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Because I hate guarding you.”

Paige blinked. “...Is that a compliment?”

“It’s just a fact.”

The silence that followed was different. Not awkward. Not cold. Just... weighty.

“I don’t love guarding you either,” Paige admitted after a moment.

Azzi leaned in slightly, like gravity had shifted. “Why’s that?”

Paige found herself mirroring her—leaning in too, like they were finally on the same wavelength. Or maybe circling something they’d been pretending wasn’t there.

“Because your shot’s quick. Stupid quick. Hard to read. I hate that.”

Azzi didn’t say anything. Just listened, head slightly tilted. Waiting.

“I like knowing things before they happen,” Paige continued. “I like reading the play before it forms. You don’t let people do that. You’re... slippery.”

“Thank you,” Azzi said softly.

“Like you said. Not a compliment. Just a fact.” Paige’s tone was calm, but there was a flicker in her eyes. Something new.

Another silence—this one thicker. Heavier. Like an unspoken truce had been signed and neither of them wanted to admit it.

“Your shot’s pretty,” Azzi said, and it landed like a drop of warm rain on skin.

Paige blinked. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nodded, her gaze unwavering now. “Your three-pointers are easy, though.”

“Easy?” Paige asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.

“I mean, you usually come off a screen. Not always. But enough.”

Paige didn’t bristle at it. The way Azzi said it wasn’t critical. More like analysis. More like she watched her. Closely.

“Your midrange, though,” Azzi added, a crooked smile pulling at her lips. “That’s practically cheating. You stop on a dime, change direction, attack the paint. Can’t predict that. It’s... brutal.”

Paige stared at her. Really stared. Like she was watching film, trying to dissect a play she didn’t quite understand.

“High praise from you,” she murmured.

Azzi just shrugged, smile still lingering, eyes still locked on hers. “Maybe“

Paige scratched the back of her neck, still standing while Azzi leaned casually against the edge of the bed like she owned it. That alone irked Paige—not the bed, but how Azzi always looked so composed, like nothing ever got to her. Paige wasn’t used to feeling off balance, especially not around someone who wore smugness like it was stitched into their jersey.

“You always talk like that?” Paige asked finally, voice low, gritty.

Azzi raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Like a therapist who also dropped thirty in the semis.”

Azzi grinned. “Only around people who need therapy.”

Paige let out a scoff that was half a laugh, dragging her palm over her mouth like she could hide it. Then she crossed the room, dropped onto the chair in the corner with a full man-spread—legs open, elbows on her knees, chin resting in one palm. Watching Azzi like she was still trying to scout her.

“Alright, go ‘head. Say what you really think of my game.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up, just slightly. “You want honesty?”

“Nah, lie to me,” Paige muttered, rolling her neck with a smirk. “Of course I want honesty. C’mon. I can take it.”

Azzi studied her for a beat longer, then pushed off the bed. She walked closer, slow, steps soft against the hotel carpet. She stopped a couple feet away, arms folded, expression calm but edged with something a little more playful now.

“You hunt space better than anyone I’ve seen,” Azzi said. “Like—you create it out of nothing. And you don’t even hesitate. Most guards, they wait. Think twice. You just go.”

Paige didn’t move, but her smirk tugged a little deeper on one side. “Aight,” she said.

“But,” Azzi added.

“Knew it.”

“But you overuse your left crossover when you’re tired. You don’t trust your weak-side kickout. And you lose track of the weakside cutter when the play breaks.”

Paige leaned back like Azzi had just hit her with a cross to the jaw. “Damn.”

“You asked,” Azzi said, that crooked smile back again.

Paige ran a hand over her braid, biting down a grin. “That’s crazy comin’ from someone who pump fakes like she’s in a community college acting class.”

Azzi scoffed. “You bit on it twice in the last game.”v

“I slipped,” Paige said.

“You did not.”

“I slipped,” she repeated, eyes glinting now.

Azzi stepped closer. “Slipped right into a midrange jumper. I remember.”

Now Paige stood up, the chair creaking behind her as she rose. Not aggressive, not threatening—but there was something in the way she loomed a little taller now, arms hanging heavy at her sides, body loose and ready like she was checking someone at halfcourt. They were nearly eye to eye, close enough Paige could count the flecks in Azzi’s brown eyes. The air between them tightened.

“I could guard you,” Paige said, voice low.

Azzi tilted her head, not backing off an inch. “Not for four quarters.”

“I’d get in your head,” Paige added.

“You’re already there,” Azzi said, soft and devastating.

That landed heavier than either expected.

For a second, neither moved. Paige’s chest rose and fell a little slower now, not calm—but careful. Like if she moved too fast, the moment might crack.

“Alright,” Paige said, breaking it. “That’s enough of this... vibe.”

She stepped back, like she needed the distance to breathe, then walked to the other side of the room and dropped onto the bed like it owed her money—legs open, hand rubbing her face like she’d just stepped off a double-overtime game.

“You sleep on that side,” she said, tossing a thumb at the far end of the bed without looking.

Azzi hesitated, then crossed the room and sat, pulling her legs up underneath her.

They both stayed facing forward, like the other might disappear if they looked too long.

A long stretch of silence passed. The room was dim, lit only by a muted bedside lamp. The kind of light that made things look softer than they were.

“I don’t actually hate you,” Paige said eventually, her voice rough with sleep or something close to it.

Azzi didn’t look at her. “I know.”

Another beat.

“I still don’t like you, though,” Paige added.

Azzi smirked at her lap. “Would’ve been disappointed if you did.”

Paige let out a low chuckle, then flopped back dramatically, arms behind her head like she owned the ceiling.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be hell,” she said.

“For Texas?”

Paige turned her head slightly, eyeing Azzi. “You cocky now?”

Azzi shrugged. “You asked.”

Paige let that sit a minute. Then closed her eyes. “South Carolina’s not gonna let y’all breathe.”

“We don’t need to breathe,” Azzi said, voice dropping lower, like the truth in it was simple. “We just win.”

Paige opened one eye. “You always talk like that?”

Azzi nodded. “Only around people who listen.”

For a long time, they didn’t say anything.

Just the sound of the air conditioner humming.

Paige stayed on her back, legs still wide, body sprawled out like she wasn’t used to fitting into clean corners. Azzi sat curled up, spine straight, arms around her knees like she was trying to stay contained.

Opposites.

But the silence between them wasn’t cold anymore. Just stretched. Like taffy.

Eventually, Paige rolled onto her side, facing Azzi. Her voice dropped.

“You really hate guarding me?”

Azzi glanced over. “I do.”

“Why?”

Azzi hesitated. Then let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Because you don’t stop. Not when the shot clock’s low. Not when the lane’s clogged. Not when you’ve missed four in a row. You just keep coming.”

Paige blinked, the words hitting her stomach before her ears.

Azzi kept going. “And you talk. Always. In the middle of plays. Between free throws. It’s distracting.”

Paige grinned. “That’s the point.”

Azzi looked away. “Yeah, well. It works.”

Paige sat up, the bed creaking again. “You talk too.”

“Not like you.”

“true.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Just pulled the blanket up a little.

Then, like the room had shifted again, Paige said—quietly, sincerely—“Good luck tomorrow.”

Azzi looked at her. “You too.”

They stared at each other for a second too long again.

Then, slowly, carefully, Azzi laid down, facing the ceiling. Paige did the same. The room dimmed further as one of them clicked the lamp off.

And in the dark, without speaking, Azzi shifted just a little closer. Not touching. Just near.

It was Paige who spoke first, voice barely above a whisper.

“You cold?”

Azzi didn’t answer.

Instead, she moved again—slow, like sleep was pulling her limbs. Her shoulder found Paige’s, tentative, then settled there like it belonged.

Paige stiffened at first.

Then—gradually—relaxed.

Azzi’s breath evened out, soft and slow.

Paige stared at the ceiling.

And didn’t move.

Not because she didn’t want to.

But because something sharp and slow and burning was blooming in her chest. Something she hadn’t planned for.

Something like… not hate.

Just the sound of Azzi breathing. Just the heat of her shoulder, warm against hers.

Just the silence—finally not thick, not heavy.

Just… full.

Paige closed her eyes.

Didn’t sleep.

But didn’t move either.

Not yet.

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chibieggplant · 11 months ago

Text

Accidentally Exposed

One Piece boys accidentally walking in on you getting changed

With Ace | Law | Penguin | Luffy

Female reader

Ace

The door to your cabin swung open with an audible creak, revealing a sight that instantly ignited a blush that rivalled the inferno he so effortlessly commanded. His footsteps faltered mid-stride, dark eyes widening in both surprise and embarrassment as he took in the sight of his crewmate in a state of half-dress. You were facing away from him, your back exposed save for a dangerously small towel wrapped loosely around your chest. Sunlight streamed through the porthole window, casting a halo around your damp hair and highlighting the freckles scattered like constellations across your back. Ace felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of surprise and unbidden desire coursing through his veins. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as he shamelessly took in every tantalizing inch of your form.

At the sound of your door opening you pivot swiftly on your heels to face the intruder. “Ace!” You squealed in alarm. Unfortunately, your hasty reaction had the opposite effect of preserving modesty. The momentum sent the flimsy towel slipping precariously, coming open slightly and exposing even more of your sun-kissed skin. Granting Ace a fleeting glimpse of the enticing expanse of your body below.

Ace's eyes widened comically, his heartbeat hammering wildly in his chest, both from the shock of intrusion and the tantalizing image seared into his brain. "Shit! Y/n! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to barge in!" He stuttered, hastily turning around and slapping a large palm over his burning gaze.

The silence stretched tensely for several seconds before your muffled giggle drifted across the room. Ace peeked over his shoulder, relief flooding through him like a cool ocean breeze seeing you readjusting your towel. "It's fine, really, could have been worse," you assured him sheepishly, your cheeks tinted pink.

"Yeah... Yeah, of course." He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning fully around now that modesty was mostly restored. His devilish grin returned tenfold, however, at the prospect of teasing you about this later. "Just didn't expect our serious doctor to be hiding such lovely… assets, underneath those boring old lab coats," Ace finished smoothly, trying his best to diffuse the lingering awkwardness with his signature charm. His eyes danced teasingly, but there was no malice behind his words; only genuine appreciation for beauty caught unexpectedly.

You blushed deeper at his comment, rolling your eyes fondly nonetheless. "You're incorrigible," you muttered, but your lips curved upwards into a smile that betrayed your amusement.

Law

The door to your cabin slid open without warning, admitting a tall silhouette that paused mid-step as its occupant took in the unexpected sight before him. Law's gaze flickered across your half-dressed form of an open shirt and black underwear, taking in the delicate curves of your thighs and the smooth expanse of skin exposed by your loosened clothing. He quickly schooled his features into indifference, though a faint blush still stained his cheeks. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back the urge to smile at your flustered state - it wasn't every day one caught the crew's resident nurse off guard like this.

“C-captain! Sorry, I thought I locked my door,” you stammered as you scrambled to find your trousers and button up your shirt.

"My apologies," he rasped out, voice uncharacteristically low as he turned away, giving you the privacy you deserved. Despite his outward calmness, however, Law couldn't help but feel his heart rate pick up slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. Your relationship had always been one of mutual respect and professionalism, yet seeing you vulnerable like this stirred something deep within him. As he stood there, listening to your hurried movements while you dressed, Law found himself struggling to maintain his customary cool demeanour. Once he heard the soft rustle of fabric cease, signalling that you were decent again, he finally allowed himself to turn back towards you - though he carefully avoided meeting your gaze directly. "Is there something you require assistance with?" You asked as Law attempted casualness, leaning against the doorframe with his hands tucked into his pockets.

You stood before him now, fully clothed in your usual white medical attire, yet Law couldn't help the heat pooling low in his abdomen at the memory of your exposed skin. He cleared his throat again, trying to dispel the unwanted arousal threatening to betray his composure further. "Ah yes, I merely wanted to discuss..." Law paused, mentally scolding himself for forgetting why he had entered in the first place. "...the shipment of medical supplies. It seems some items might be missing," he lied smoothly, inventing an excuse on the spot. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly aware of his flustered state, but didn't comment on it further. Instead, you sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Alright, let me check my inventory." Law nodded curtly, watching your retreating figure as you walked towards your desk. He mentally reprimanded himself for his lack of self-control; you were his crewmate and friend, not some tavern wench for his lewd fantasies. Yet even as he berated himself internally, Law couldn't help but steal furtive glances at the sway of your hips beneath the fabric of your uniform, reminding himself to keep it professional while he discreetly adjusted his trousers that betrayed his growing desires.

Penguin

A series of clumsy thuds preceded the abrupt entrance of Penguin. The door to your cabin swung wide open, revealing your flustered crewmate mid-stumble, his hat nearly toppling off his head. You yelped, hands instinctively covering your breasts as you spun around to face the intruder. Penguin froze in place, his bugged eyes taking in the sight before him - your half-clad form framed perfectly against the dim cabin lighting. Your discarded shirt lay forgotten on the floor, exposing a generous amount of skin.

"P-Penguin!" You squealed, cheeks burning redder than Ace's devil fruit abilities could ever manage. “Wh-what do you want?" You demanded, trying to sound stern despite your obvious embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I thought, uh...L-law- I mean the Captain sent me!" He stammered out, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. Quickly averting his gaze and pulling down his hat, Penguin's vision fixated on the ground below him, determined not to peek despite his body begging otherwise. He could feel his cheeks warming up with mortification as he fumbled for words to diffuse the awkward silence that followed.

Penguin continued to ramble nervously, clearly regretting his lack of thinking that led him to burst in on you during such an intimate moment. "I-I swear, I didn't mean to intrude, y/n! It's just, I uh, I didn't think!" You stifled a chuckle appreciating his attempt at a flustered apology despite your own embarrassment. "It's fine, Penguin. Just give me a minute to finish changing." You muttered, your voice strained as you scrambled to cover yourself properly. The cabin filled with a tense silence broken only by the rustling of fabric and Penguin's shallow breaths. “O-of course,” he stammered as he stumbled out of the door. His mind whirred with thoughts he shouldn't entertain about his fellow crewmate, but it was difficult when presented with such a sight. Y/n, usually so composed and professional, looked incredibly endearing in your current state of undress. Shaking his head to dispel the improper thoughts, Penguin mentally scolded himself. *Focus on your job, idiot!* His inner voice chastised him. *You're supposed to protect her dignity, not ogle at her!* Feeling slightly guilty but still unable to completely banish the enticing mental image, he waited patiently outside your door until you called out for him to enter again. He was undoubtedly going to find it challenging to look at you in the same way from now on.

Luffy

As the Straw Hat Pirate captain barged into your cabin without a second thought you barely managed to cover yourself before Luffy's curious gaze landed on your half-exposed form of you standing in your underwear. His expression morphed from surprise to pure childlike interest, his eyes sparkling with innocence as he blurted out, "Whoa y/n! Is this your new swimsuit?" Luffy's nonchalant question stood in sharp contrast to the mortification you felt, your cheeks burning crimson. Attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity, you quickly covered yourself up with a discarded robe, "Luffy! How many times have I told you to knock?" He simply grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head - a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter despite the circumstances. Unfazed by your embarrassment, Luffy continued to ogle you openly, his simple curiosity untouched by the societal norms that dictated modesty. You found herself torn between laughter and frustration at your captain's antics - typical Luffy you thought internally rolling your eyes.

Still grinning brightly despite your attempts at maintaining decorum, Luffy stepped closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. He reached out tentatively towards your partially covered shoulder, wanting to touch the intriguing material of your ''swimsuit'. Before you could protest further, Luffy’s fingers trailed your bra strap, his touch warm against your exposed skin. His voice was filled with genuine wonder when he asked again, "This must be so much cooler than regular clothes though right?"

You bit back a smile despite yourself, unable to stay mad at him for his earnest fascination. You shook your head softly, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Uh, yeah Luffy, it keeps me cooler," you mumbled, averting your gaze shyly. Luffy tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding enthusiastically. "Then it must be super comfortable! And it looks super cute" He beamed, giving you a genuine compliment that made your heart skip a beat.

Your captain's enthusiasm was infectious, causing you to find yourself smiling despite your earlier embarrassment. "Thanks, Luffy," you said warmly, feeling a wave of affection wash over you at his kind albeit naive words. Luffy bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, seemingly thrilled by this newfound discovery. "Hey, maybe we should go swimming together! We could show everyone your new swimsuit!"

Your face ignited once again in a brighter shade of scarlet at Luffy's suggestion, your hand instinctively pulling the robe more securely. "Luffy! These aren't swimming clothes!" You spluttered. Luffy paused, tilting his head to the side as he processed your words. His eyes narrowed slightly before realization dawned on him. "Ohhh," he muttered comprehendingly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the situation clicked.

You watched as Luffy’s cheeks flushed slightly, mirroring your embarrassment as he realised. However, quickly Luffy's grin returned full force, lightening the atmosphere in the cabin instantly. “Sorry y/n, but it looked comfy enough for swimming!” He laughed lightly, causing a smile to tug at your lips. “Well, whatever it’s for,” Luffy continued, “You look great!” He added, his compliment genuine and heartwarming. You couldn’t help but laugh at his oblivion, “Thank you Luffy…now can you please get out of my room and let me finish changing?” You struggled to hold back your smile while gesturing toward your door.

#one piece #anime #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #penguin #penguin x reader #heart pirates #luffy #luffy x reader

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cannibal-walleye · 4 months ago

Text

First Meeting

"You guys shoulda seen it!" Impulse proclaimed loudly, tail swinging wildly with excitement. "I mean, Tango was great, but the lead singer—" The demon whistled.

"That good, huh?" Gem asked with a look that promised teasing should Impulse say much more.

He didn't heed the warning. "Yes, that good! I wish you guys had come; it actually blew me away. Like, the drums and piano blended perfectly, and so many of the songs made me want to start dancing right then and there," he gushed, pausing only for a moment to take a sip from his water bottle.

Scott, meanwhile, waved his phone at him, the screen displaying a pink heart that was on fire. "This is the same Heart Foundation you saw, right?"

"You found their insta already!" the demon beamed, reaching to grab it before the blizz snatched the phone away, blizz rods whirling happily.

"A'course I did, I am a professional. We need to do as much research as we can on your new crush before he can have our approval," Scott teased, scrolling through photos and posts.

"It's not a crush," he pouted, though he didn't bother with defending the claim against Gem's snort.

The warden peeked over Scott's shoulder, watching the photos fly past. "You said he's an angel, right?" she asked, glancing back at Impulse. She picked up her cocktail, taking a sip while the demon replied.

"Yeah, an angel. He's got these massive white wings, plus little pink ones on the sides of his head—though, I don't know if that was the lighting or dye or natural. Either way, they matched his suit perfectly, I didn't know it was possible for someone to look so good in hot pink! And- and! He's absolutely jacked, his arms were like the barrel of a cannon—and his hair also had hot pink streaks in it, and-"

"Like this?" Scott cut him off before he could ramble more, showing a photo of the angel, his arm slung around Tango as both of them laughed at the camera. He wasn't wearing the pink suit, just a tank top and sweats, but damn, if he didn't look just as hot, scars and muscles on full display.

Impulse's tail curled happily, a purr rumbling in his chest. "Yes, that's him! What does it say? Is his name on there, any other info about their next performance—though, I could just ask Tango when I see him-"

"You don't even know his name?" Gem interrupted, incredulous.

"I was distracted, okay?" he tried to defend, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I was taking a video for Tango while he was introducing everyone, and his voice was just so smooth, I couldn't really focus on the actual words. It's not my fault!"

They just giggled at him, Gem's elbow coming up to prod Scott, who looked up from the phone. Surprise flashed across his face, but it quickly turned to a teasing grin to match Gem's.

"You were distracted, hmm? Too busy eyeing up the hot angel to pay any attention?" the blizz asked, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

"I think so," the warden agreed before Impulse could defend himself. "Enamored with a complete stranger, our little Impy's all grown up~" she teased, eyes narrowing as though daring him to disagree.

He rolled his eyes, taking another long drink from his water; playing earlier had really left him drained, but not quite drained enough to sit out Tango's performance, despite Gem and Scott abandoning him to go get drinks. Impulse sighed happily, the image of the angel silhouetted by the backlighting still fresh in his mind, not to mention the memory of his voice. He'd need to ask the blaze hybrid later how they had met.

"So what if I am?" he argued, hands coming up to rub away the growing flush on his face. "I mean, he's friends with Tango, so he's gotta at least be a chill dude, plus he was so funny during the show, he interacted with the audience perfectly—honestly, Gem, you should be taking notes."

Her mouth fell open in amused shock, while Scott's smirk only deepened. They shared a glance, one that Impulse recognized well enough by now to know that they were categorically not going to drop this any time soon. Not that he cared; he was happy to keep rambling about what an amazing performance the niche band had put on; Impulse could recognize good music when he heard it.

"I don't know, I think you might be a tad biased," the blizz said, the frosty sparkle in his eyes refusing to disappear given Impulse's enthusiasm.

Gem nodded. "Definitely. You just think he's hot, you want to find a quiet spot where you two can kiss and-"

"Gem!" Impulse interrupted, flush deepening at the implications. "I don't even know if he likes guys," he retorted, wilting a little at the thought. Not that it mattered; he didn't know the guy, it's not like he'd somehow end up in a situation where hooking up was even possible.

"I dunno..." Scott drawled, eyes shifting to glance over the demon's shoulder. He grinned again at Impulse's embarrassment. "I feel like he'd be open to that sort of thing."

"And how would you know?" he snapped back, suddenly very self-conscious, as though the two of them were in on a joke that he didn't get. They did love to tease him, and it wasn't often that Impulse got a crush—not that this was a crush!

Gem just snorted while Scott waved the phone. "Instagram," he answered shortly, still smirking.

"But you didn't even answer the question!" the warden accused, taking another drink.

"What question?"

"Would you kiss him if you could?"

"Gem-" he tried to argue, hiding his blush with a hand again.

"Just answer! You never tell us about your love life, it's only fair," she insisted, giving him an intense and expecting look, one that warned against any arguing.

"I don't know him," the demon sputtered. "I guess I would, but I'd want to get to know him first, maybe take him out to dinner..." he trailed off, eyebrows furrowed at the thought. It really wasn't all that unrealistic that Impulse could meet the angel, since Tango could introduce them. But the odds of the guy actually being interested in anything?

"I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but I think it might have to be the other way around," came a deep voice from behind him.

The demon nearly jumped out of his skin.

Right in front of him was the angel, in the flesh, very close up and personal and—fuck, he was even hotter in person, suit torn at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the top, showing off his arms and chest. He was leaning against the bar, a stereotypical smolder painting his features, blue eyes dark as they looked the demon up and down.

Impulse short circuited.

He was stammering something, but he wasn't sure what—a greeting? An apology? How much had the angel heard, did he think Impulse was weird, did he-

"I'm asking if I can buy you a drink," the angel clarified, smirk fading into a more serious expression as he repeated the offer.

"I, uh-" The demon's mouth went dry. "I can't, I have to drive later," he answered weakly, brain still not catching up to the fact that the guy was hitting on him.

"No, you don't," Gem denied cheerily, the smile in her voice clear even though Impulse's back was turned. "We'll get an uber. Go have fun, enjoy yourself~"

He looked back up at the angel, who was now giving him the sweetest, most encouraging smile, and swallowed thickly. He nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I- I'd love a drink," he managed, still unbearably flustered, tail curling in on itself.

The man grinned, the wings on his head puffing up happily—that's adorable—as he offered an arm to the demon.

Impulse took it, letting the angel lead him away to order drinks.

"Just be back by hotel checkout at ten tomorrow!" Scott called after them.

---

So that's their first meeting! I also want to write Skizz's first impression of Impulse and his pov of this encounter at some point, and potentially even extend the scene a little further when we see him ;)

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And if there's any questions about anyone in this au, feel free to drop an ask <3

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hubbvrd · 3 months ago

Note

Can we have more dad joe plsss🥹I thoroughly enjoyed that!

Father daughter day | JB9

summary — in which Joe and his daughter spend an afternoon together as father and daughter

pairing — joe burrow x his daughter

words — 2246

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"And you're really sure I can go?" y/n asked again as she reluctantly let her husband Joe help her into her jacket.

It was Saturday afternoon and y/n was meeting up with her friends for a little girls' day out, which had definitely been lacking since she and her friends had each started a family with the Bengals players.

Joe gave his wife a serious but loving look. She had repeated the question countless times over the last twenty minutes, to which Joe had given her the same answer every time, as he was doing now.

"Yes, you can do that. You deserve the day with the girls and besides..." he paused briefly and looked down between his legs at your little daughter, who was standing between Joe's legs grinning broadly and holding on to the fabric of his jogging bottoms, looking up at him.

She was the spitting image of her father, so the question of whether she and the famous Joe Burrow might be related didn't even need to be asked.

"...besides, are we going to be alright or Butterfly?" he asked as he looked lovingly down at his daughter.

Because Harper had been nicknamed Butterfly ever since she had grown up in y/n's belly. According to Joe, the little one had never made her presence felt like a kickboxer or a soccer player, but had been very gentle against y/n's touch, which had felt like a butterfly to him - which was somehow really the case.

Harper nodded her head vigorously, causing her little pigtails of blonde hair to swing wildly back and forth. She had a pretty good head of hair for her three and a half years, which was often a source of despair.

Because Harper hated sitting still and having her hair tamed, so y/n and especially Joe - who found it particularly difficult to be strict with his little butterfly - had difficulties.

"Yes mommy, you can go and have fun. Daddy and I have fun too! Lots of fun!" little Burrow giggled and gave her mother a big grin.

Her mother's mouth twisted slightly and she seemed to think for a moment. Joe, who was able to decipher this face immediately, nudged his little daughter gently on the arm, who immediately understood what her father wanted.

"But not as much fun as you, of course, mommy. You'll do more fun things."

Joe nodded in agreement and he and his daughter put on the same warm smile, causing Y/n to giggle softly.

"I know you'll have a lot more fun than I will, but next time we'll all have twice as much fun together, yeah?"

Y/n squatted down to be at eye level with her daughter. The little one's blue eyes gleamed with joy and excitement, which y/n could completely understand.

Harper was a daddy's girl through and through, who could never get enough of spending time together and especially alone with her father.

"Both of you be nice and don't get into mischief, will you?"

Harper began to nod wildly, so that her pigtails began to bob up and down wildly on her head. "No way, mommy. You know that."

Joe agreed with his wife, too, because what choice did he and Harper have? After all, they couldn't tell y/n what had already happened when the two of them had been alone a few times.

After all, one or two flower pots had been broken in the garden when Joe had tried to teach his daughter how to play football.

Or once the two of them had played hide and seek in the house, where Harper had jumped out of hiding and scared her father so badly that he had pulled down a mirror, which had broken and the two of them had literally raced to the nearest furniture store to get a new one so that y/n would never know what had happened.

After y/n had said goodbye to her daughter and husband with a kiss and a hug each and the front door slammed shut a few seconds later, Joe and Harper held their breath for a moment and listened.

It took a few seconds for the muffled sound of the car door closing, the engine starting and the car pulling out of the driveway, then it was completely silent and Joe and Harper were alone.

"Okay, what do we do?" Joe grinned as he rubbed his hands together and then lifted his daughter up with a sweeping motion, who squealed softly and then buried her hands in Joe's hair, giggling and giving her father a new and funny hairstyle.

In fact, Harper gave the best head massages for her three and a half years, which Joe especially loved when he was lying on the sofa and Harper was watching her favorite show and tossing her father's hair in her mind.

"Pizza!" Harper exclaimed enthusiastically as Joe carried his daughter into the open-plan living and dining area.

"I think that's a good idea." The quarterback set his daughter down at the kitchen island and began looking for the flyer for his favorite pizza place in the drawer next to it.

Pizza was more or less an integral part of Father Daughter Day, because if there was no pizza, it wasn't an official Father and Daughter Day.

After a quick browse through the flyer, the two quickly decided on a pepperoni pizza, which was also ordered within seconds.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the pizza to arrive, which would take a while as the pizzeria had just opened and had countless orders coming in.

While Harper fiddled with the creased corner of the rather battered flyer - as it had already been opened and closed countless times - Joe quickly connected his cell phone to the music system in the living room.

And before long, "you've got a friend in me" from Toy Story was playing from the speakers.

Toy Story was their favorite movie series and Harper especially loved the music to countless Disney movies, dozens of which she knew by heart and sang whenever she felt like it.

When the first notes of the song rang out, her blue eyes grew wide.

"How about a dance, Butterfly?" Joe grinned and lifted his daughter back onto the floor before holding out his hand to ask her to dance.

Giggling, the three and a half year old grabbed her father's hand before the two of them began to dance slowly around the living room.

Harper tried to follow her father's steps with concentration, her forehead slightly furrowed and the tip of her tongue hanging out of her mouth.

In fact, Joe often caught his daughter with her tongue hanging slightly out of her mouth. She did this almost every time she concentrated.

Whether she was outside drawing with chalk, learning something new, pushing her peas back and forth on her plate or on the sidewalk so hip that she didn't touch a groove in the stones.

When "Let It Go" came on next, Harper ran over to the couch table, where she grabbed two remotes and handed one to Joe.

Because not a single song could top "Let it go", so every time the song came on - no matter where they were - the two of them put on a little performance.

Just like now, the two of them stood next to each other on the sofa - it was their shared stage - where they bellowed the lyrics loudly into their microphones and had so much fun that they sang all kinds of songs until the pizza delivery man who rang the doorbell interrupted their little performance and more or less brought them back down to earth.

"The best pizza in the world," Harper mumbled, placing her hand on her small stomach, which was now clearly filled with pizza.

Only the white box and the pizza crust - which Harper didn't like - suggested that she and her father had just eaten a large pizza together.

"Oh yeah, but don't tell your mommy," smirked Joe, who put his arm around his daughter and gently pulled her closer, so that Harper rested her blonde mop of hair on her father's stomach and sighed with pleasure.

"Mommy's pizza is great, but not as great as the pizza here, but that's our secret too, I promise. Because we're secret agents with lots of secrets," Harper whispered as she hiccupped slightly.

Smiling, Joe gently kissed the top of his daughter's head. Sometimes he couldn't believe what a wonderful daughter he and his wife actually had.

Harper was a really sweet and adventurous girl who loved to explore the world and get up to mischief.

"How about a little power nap?" asked the quarterback, who had clearly shoveled in too many slices of pizza, as he felt the tiredness rolling over him slightly while his stomach was filling up quite heavily.

"No, Daddy. Secret agents don't do powenaps. Besides, you still have a job to do."

Before Joe could say anything back, Harper had already jumped up and run out of the room.

Every now and then the little girl would move as fast as a bouncer, so that you only had to blink once and she was gone.

Joe heard her running up the stairs and fiddling around quietly in her room for a moment, she seemed to be looking for something.

While his daughter was in her room, he began to remove the pizza box and the traces of salami and cheese from the sofa with a wet cloth, before grabbing a few blankets and cushions, which he spread out on the floor and began to build a small cave to make it a little more adventurous and cozy for the two of them.

He also picked up one or two new children's books that he had recently bought, such as a flashlight and a string of lights.

Just as he had finished and was proudly inspecting his work - the cave was a little crooked and didn't look like it would hold up for too long - Harper stumbled back into the living room.

"Wow, Daddy!" she enthused, carefully stepping closer to her father as she examined the cave.

"Secret agents need a good hiding place, don't they?" he asked, smiling as he looked down at his daughter, who was holding a small suitcase with a picture of Anna, Elsa and Olaf on it. "What's that?"

"Grandma gave it to me yesterday. There's something great in it, come and I'll show it to you in the hiding place."

Her warm little hand carefully slipped into her father's hand before she pulled him into the cave with her, where the two of them made themselves comfortable among the countless cushions in all different sizes and colors.

Harper opened the suitcase and revealed its contents to her father, which consisted of countless colorful children's nail polishes.

"Wow, that's a lot of colors. Grandma had a hard time choosing, huh?"

"Yes, but this way I can always wear something different!" Harper grinned proudly and picked out two colors.

Purple and turquoise.

"Daddy can you do my nails for me?" With her sweetest look, she looked up at her father, a look she knew she could completely and easily look around her father's finger, because Joe could never resist that look.

"Of course, but I have to tell you that I'm not a pro at it."

In fact, he had never once picked up the nail polish himself before, his wife Harper had always painted his nails while he watched.

But it couldn't be that difficult, could it?

"I always want to alternate purple and turquoise," Harrer told her father as she placed her hands on the small case and Joe opened the small bottles to carefully paint his daughter's nails.

This actually worked quite well, so that he only accidentally painted the skin around the nails a little bit a few times, causing Harper to giggle quietly.

"Wow, Daddy!" Harper gushed a few minutes later as she looked at her colorful nails. Her blue eyes shone and a broad grin adorned her face.

"Did it turn out well?"

"Yes!" Harper exclaimed enthusiastically, briefly blowing on each nail to get them dry faster - she had seen her mother do it. "Can I ask you something, Daddy?"

"Of course, anything you want, Butterfly."

Joe's voice drifted softly through the cave and the pillow rustled slightly behind him as he sat up slightly.

"Can I do your nails too?"

Again, Harper put on her look that Joe couldn't say no to.

But did Harper even need that look?

Before Joe had become a father and a child had asked him if he could paint his nails, he would have said no for sure. But now? Now he didn't even have to hesitate and so, barely fifteen minutes later, he had purple turquoise nails, just like Harper.

And after the two of them had finished their little nail painting session, they had snuggled up together in the den.

Harper's head back on Joe's stomach, while he had his arm wrapped around her and in his other hand was holding one of the new books he had bought and was now letting his daughter read.

And it wasn't long before they both fell asleep with a contented and happy smile on their faces, reviewing the successful father-daughter day in their dreams...

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow #nfl imagines #nfl fic #nfl #nfl imagine #cincinnati bengals

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sknyuz · 2 months ago

Text

garden fairy | y.j.h.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

synopsis ─ a variety show trip to a tiny village school turns unexpectedly sweet when the kids start calling jeonghan a butterfly prince—and you his fairy.

pairing ─ yoon jeonghan x gn!idol!reader

genre ─ fluff. slice of life. secret relationship. idolverse

wc ─ ~700

note: you and jeonghan have been secretly dating for 6 months. also, i tried a cute new format !! lmk what u guys think <3 this is a request from anon. taglist at end.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

you hadn’t been expecting to see him on today’s call sheet.

especially not next to your name in bold letters under the words:

“episode 5 - healing days: idol village edition

garden team – school visit – jeonghan + y/n”

“you two have good chemistry,” the pd had said brightly, way too brightly.

jeonghan had only tilted his head at you, all wide-eyed innocence. “what a coincidence,” he said, already smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing.

now, two hours later, you’re knee-deep in a school garden that’s somehow both adorable and wildly chaotic, trying to actually do your assigned task—while jeonghan has become the unofficial lettuce whisperer to a group of second graders.

he’s supposed to be weeding. instead, he’s squatting in front of a lettuce patch, holding up leaves like sacred scrolls. “this one looks like a dragon’s wing,” he tells a wide-eyed kid. “see that curve? totally a dragon.”

“what about this one?” another child asks, holding up a rounder one.

jeonghan squints. “hmm… that one’s a turtle shell. or maybe a sleeping cap.” you glance over from the carrot beds, deadpan. “jeonghan.”

“yes, farmer y/n?” he grins, batting his lashes.

“the lettuce won’t harvest itself.”

“neither will my fanbase,” he says, gesturing to the kids now giggling around him. “i’m sowing the seeds of friendship.”

you chuckle despite yourself. it’s impossible not to, even you weren’t safe from his charm. one of the kids suddenly turns to him and blurts, “jeonghan-oppa, you’re so pretty!”

jeonghan gasps like he’s just won an award. “really? thank you!” another girl pipes up. “you look like a butterfly prince!” at this, his hand flies to his chest, gently bowing his head. “i’ll accept this royal title.”

but then the princely man turns to you, mock-offended. “wait—what about our y/n-ssi? don’t you think they’re pretty too?”

the kids peer at you seriously, as if debating a very very serious topic within their little minds.

you smile, brushing dirt off your cheek, but before you can say anything, one girl clasps her hands like she’s made a discovery. “they’re not just pretty—they look like a garden fairy!” the other kids cheer and agree, echoing her words.

jeonghan blinks. “...a fairy?! that’s even better than prince!”

you snort, cheeks warming. “you’re the one comparing lettuce to dragons.”

“fairy magic,” he says solemnly, “is clearly more powerful.”

off to the side, one of the staff members walks by and mutters—just loud enough—“butterfly prince and garden fairy… sounds like a solid we got married pitch.” you and jeonghan both freeze.

then, almost in sync, you slowly turn to look at each other.

he raises a brow, dangerously amused. “should we start calling each other yeobo for authenticity?”

“don’t even joke.”

“too late. it’s canon now.”

you groan, turning back to the carrots, only for a little boy to tug at your sleeve.

“excuse me,” he asks seriously, “are you really married to jeonghan-hyung?”

jeonghan doesn’t even hesitate, eyes lighting up as he humored the little. “what do you think?”

the boy tilts his head. “...yes.”

jeonghan beams, absolutely delighted. “see? even the kids know we’re meant to be.”

you bury your face in your gloves.

and yet…

you glance up a few moments later, just in time to catch jeonghan gently squishing a little girl’s cheeks with both hands, his expression soft and playful as he tells her she’d make a perfect space princess one day.

and something about the image sticks—him crouching in the dirt, the light catching in his hair, kids gathered around him like flower petals. your chest aches a little in that quiet, dangerous way.

you imagine a little girl, smaller than these ones, her hands curled around the fabric of his hoodie, her laugh echoing in a cozy kitchen. jeonghan crouched in front of her to tie her shoes, telling her to protect you while he’s out for schedules. brushing her hair behind her ears and calling her his princess even if she’s got jam on her face.

your future.

your family.

your jeonghan.

you blink the thought away, heart skipping like a pebble across water.

jeonghan glances over. “you good?”

“fine,” you mumble. “just wondering how much lettuce we’d get if you actually worked.”

he snickers, but you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you—longer than before.

like maybe he’s wondering about the same what if.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu

join here!

#sknyuz #⋆˚࿔ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢’𝐬 🍮 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#svt #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff

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ducksido · 3 months ago

Note

I love Lilia and I love how you wrote about him (Thank you so much!!!!) 😩 Can I ask for a platonic relationship with Crowley? Someone drops a baby off at the NRC (it could be a fairy or a human), Crowley thinks about what to do, but the baby does something cute and Crowley just says "now this is my baby. THIS IS MY CHICK." I don't know if you have a query limit? количество запросов?

(I do not have a limit)

The baby was unceremoniously left at the gates of Night Raven College.

Crowley had no idea who could have done such a thing—whether it was a desperate fairy seeking a safe haven for their child or an irresponsible human hoping someone else would bear the burden. But as he peered down at the tiny, swaddled figure, he was faced with a pressing question.

What was he supposed to do with it?

He hummed, tapping a gloved finger to his chin. “Now, now, as the esteemed headmage of this prestigious institution, it would be highly improper for me to take care of a—”

The baby gurgled and reached out toward him with the tiniest, chubbiest fingers.

Crowley blinked.

Then the baby cooed and kicked its little legs, making a small, determined squawk.

A gasp. Then, without a shred of hesitation, he scooped the baby up into his arms, cradling it against his chest. “Now this is my baby. This is my chick!” he declared with an emotional flourish. "You shall be Y/n Crowley!"

And just like that, the problem was solved.

He would figure out the logistics later. For now, the baby was his, and that was all that mattered. --------------

Raising a child in a prestigious school for dark magic was not easy, but Crowley was nothing if not resourceful (and dramatic). The students had long since grown used to the sight of their headmage rushing down the halls with a small toddler perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly as Crowley flapped his arms like wings.

The staff, on the other hand, were not so amused.

“Headmage, you cannot let them crawl around the alchemy labs!” Professor Crewel scolded, arms crossed as he glared at the small human attempting to climb a stack of books. “They are a menace.”

“They are a delight!” Crowley countered, swooping in to scoop up his chick before they could tumble. “Besides, my dear Crewel, you must admit, they have a natural curiosity for magic!”

The child beamed up at Crewel, waving their tiny hands. “Magic!”

Crewel sighed heavily. “…You are lucky they are adorable.”

The students adored them too. A small child running around NRC meant chaos, of course, but also entertainment. They quickly learned to copy Crowley’s habits—dramatic entrances, overly poetic speeches, and a strange fascination with shiny objects.

By the time they could walk properly, they were already flouncing around in a tiny version of Crowley’s coat, complete with tiny golden embellishments. If Crowley had a feathered cloak, they had a fluffy one lined with soft black and gold trim.

“My chick, you are the spitting image of your dear father!” Crowley declared proudly, dabbing at imaginary tears.

Y/N struck a proud pose. “Like Papa!”

--------------

The grand hall of Night Raven College was filled with the murmuring of students as Headmage Crowley prepared to give his annual speech.

Among the first-years stood Y/N, dressed in a long, dramatic coat lined with luxurious black and gold feathers, eerily similar to Crowley’s own. A mask dangled lazily from their hip, and their golden accessories caught the candlelight just right. The resemblance to the headmage was undeniable.

“Hmm, hmm! Welcome, my dear students, to another year at Night Raven College!” Crowley boomed, sweeping his arms wide. “I trust that you—”

A loud yowl echoed through the hall.

“Hey! Get back here, you little furball!”

A blue blur dashed between students, knocking over chairs and sending books flying. The creature came to a screeching halt at Y/N’s feet, staring up at them with fiery eyes.

Y/N tilted their head.

“You look… weird,” they murmured.

“I am not weird! I am the Great Grim! And I—ACK!” Grim yelped as several students attempted to grab him, narrowly dodging their grasp.

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, what is that—”

Y/N bent down, plucking Grim up by the scruff. They stared into his round, glowing eyes. Grim squirmed for a second, then went still, tail twitching.

“I like him,” Y/N declared.

Crowley paled. “Oh, dear.”

Grim smirked. “Yeah, yeah! This human’s got good taste! So, what do ya say, huh? Take me as your loyal companion!”

Y/N hummed in thought before nodding. “Okay.”

Crowley let out a dramatic gasp. “My chick, no! One stray in the family is enough!”

Too late. Y/N had already cradled Grim in their arms, patting his head.

“I’m keeping him.”

“Oh, my poor heart,” Crowley whined, placing a hand over his chest. “This is exactly how I felt all those years ago!”

A chuckle came from behind them.

“Man, that’s crazy,” said Ace, watching the interaction with interest. “You really just picked up a talking cat like it’s normal, huh?”

Deuce nodded. “I guess… I guess they take after the headmage?”

Y/N turned, their golden eyes glinting under the candlelight. “Hmmm? And who are you two?”

The duo stiffened.

Ace waved awkwardly. “Uh. Your future best friends, probably?”

Crowley sniffled dramatically in the background. “Look at my little chick… making friends already!”

Y/N rolled their eyes but let a small smile slip.

Welcome to Night Raven College.

#twst x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twst yuu #y/n crowley #twst crowley #twst ace #twst deuce #twisted wonderland

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thelovehypothesis · 1 month ago

Text

A piece of us

Harry Styles x pregnant-fem!reader

Pieces of us masterlist

-1k words

summary: The cold gel, the quiet room, Harry’s hand in yours — the first glimpse at your baby is nothing more than a blurry blob, but somehow, it’s everything.

April 2022

The clinic is quiet, save for the hum of machines and the occasional shuffle of papers behind the reception desk. You’re seated in a chair that’s slightly too stiff, your hands resting over your belly, and Harry hasn’t stopped fidgeting since you checked in. He’s hovering, like always lately — a hand on your back, a whispered “you okay?” every few minutes, constantly offering to get you water or anything really.

You glance at him and smile. “Haz, I’m fine.”

He blinks, like he didn’t realize he was doing it again. “Right. Sorry. Just—nervous, I guess.”

“For me?”

“For us.” His hand finds yours, fingers threading together. “I just want everything to be perfect. I want you to be okay, and…” He trails off, eyes dropping briefly to your midsection. It’s still early. There’s no visible bump yet, but somehow, he looks at you like you’re already glowing.

Before you can reply, a nurse calls your name, and Harry springs up like he’s been launched from his seat. You try not to laugh.

The exam room smells sterile, but the lights are soft, and the doctor has a kind face. She explains what’s going to happen—how the ultrasound works, what you might see. You nod along, barely catching all the words, heart fluttering wildly in your chest. Harry stands near the head of the bed, just beside you, close enough that you can feel the tremble in his hand as he strokes your hair back.

When the doctor lifts your shirt and squeezes the cool gel onto your stomach, you let out a quiet laugh. “Cold,” you mumble.

Harry winces. “That looked freezing. Poor baby.”

“You mean me or the actual baby?”

“Both.”

You glance at him, and he’s already grinning, nerves melting into something softer.

Then the screen lights up.

At first, it’s hard to tell what’s what — just some shifting grays and shadows — but the doctor moves the wand, and suddenly, there it is. A tiny bean. A flicker in the middle of the blob.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor says gently, pointing at the steady blip. “Right there.”

Your breath catches. The room goes still. And then the sound fills the space — a rhythmic, fast whooshing that doesn’t even sound real.

Harry makes a sound you’ve never heard before. Somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your fingers, then rests them against his cheek.

“Oh,” he says, voice thick. “That’s our baby.”

You nod, too choked up to speak. A tear slips down your temple, and Harry catches it with his thumb before it can disappear into your hair.

“It’s really happening,” you whisper.

Harry leans down, pressing his forehead gently to yours. “Yeah. It is.”

The doctor continues pointing things out on the screen — where the head will be, the curve of the back — but you’re only half-listening. You’re watching Harry. The wonder in his eyes. The way he keeps stealing glances at the monitor like he’s afraid to blink and miss something.

After the doctor finishes, she hands you a printed image — a blurry, perfect little bean — and leaves you two alone for a moment.

Harry sits beside you, the image between his fingers, reverent like it’s a priceless painting. “I know they said it’s too early to tell anything yet,” he says softly, “but I swear this blob already has your nose.”

You giggle, wiping at your cheeks.

He laughs, leaning down to kiss your stomach, still slick and shining. “Hi, bubba,” he murmurs, resting his hand gently over you. “I’m your dad. And I’m already so, so in love with you.”

Your heart swells, overflowing with something fierce and tender. Looking at him, you know: whatever comes next, you’ll figure it out together. This is exactly how it’s meant to be.

—The End—

a/n’s: the next couple of fics are all gonna be about the pregnancy 🥹 I’m sorry I just loveeee these fics.

-Lots of love, Em.

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jks1uv · 3 months ago

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𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ; mark grayson | one-shot |

summary: after the world is rebuilt, mark grayson gets to see you in a dress again.

pairing: gf!fem!reader x bf!mark grayson.

trope: established relationship.

genre: fluff + romance + some comedy + the tiniest bit of nostalgic angst.

warnings‼️: just a lot of corniness (i’m sorry 😭).

word count: 1,030.

random disclaimerrr: i’m back w some more marky poo stuff by popular demand (the voices in my head)! this is the sequel to The Only Exception but can be read as a standalone :) tysm for the love on my mark / invincible fic guys seriously i’m so fucking grateful 🫶🏽🫶🏽 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

It’s been a few months since the many variants of Invincible wreaked havoc upon your city.

Life for many is trying to get back into the groove it was in before. Tragedy for the many casualties is the one thing that’ll never leave or change.

The Spring Formal is still on and somehow, it seems kind of silly to be fretting over your dress and heels and shoes and—

Mark’s caller ID pops up on your phone, momentarily pausing your inner troubles.

“Hey, you.”

You hear his smile through the phone and it makes you smile instinctively.

“Hey.”

Mark taps the speaker icon as he changes out of his superhero suit. “I finally found something to wear this Saturday.”

“You could’ve pulled off the Adam Sandler look.”

His laugh is muffled by the t-shirt sliding over his face but you hear it nonetheless.

“What time you gonna come pick me up, Invinciboy?”

He groans in annoyance and you giggle wildly at him.

“You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?”

“Nope!” You pop the ‘p’.

It’s Saturday evening.

Currently, 5 minutes till 5; the time Mark’s supposed to pick you up.

Your hair is styled nicely, your dress a pretty pale yellow.

You took inspiration from Andie’s dress from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003) and thought it’d be a subtle nod to your superhero boyfriends colors.

The dress is a gorgeous spaghetti strapped silk gown with a tight fitted corset and a flowy silhouette.

The jewelry is kept simple; a thin chain rests on your collarbones, a small watch wraps around your wrist with pearl earrings adorning your ears.

Your strappy heels are a glossy black and add 3 inches to your height, perfect for a slow dance moment!

You feel beautiful, and you are.

You’re looking over yourself in a full body length mirror, your eyes skim over your face and arms.

It’s time.

Your room is clouded with the last few spritzes of perfume you spray and you head out.

You’re coming down the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice mixed in with your parents’ laughter.

When did he get here?

You turn the corner and the lively atmosphere morphs into one of quiet admiration.

Your mom is in awe, she marvels over the amazing reflection of herself. You’re a wonderful image.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispers.

Tears prick your eyes as you hug her and your dad is holding back the urge to see you as you used to be all those years ago.

Back when you were trying on your mom’s dresses and experimenting with her makeup and jewelry and shoes.

He simply nods and hugs you, his chin resting on your head.

“You look great.” He says.

“Thank you.” You shyly reply.

Mark is staring and how can he not? You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and you’re his girlfriend now. Your beauty enhances from his love, he thinks.

Your parents part and let you and Mark have some time with this first look.

“Wow.” He sighs as his eyes take you in.

They innocently wander across the expansion of your figure and you silently do the same.

“That good, huh?” You smirk.

Mark doesn’t have it in himself to fight your teasing because right now, he’s feeling sappy.

His eyes shine with an intensity that show the fireworks you’ve set off in his heart.

“You’re beautiful.”

The speed your confidence boils down to a timid attitude is that of a world record timing.

You instantly look down on the floor from his gaze and interlock your fingers together.

“Thank you, handsome.” You smile.

He nods to himself and chuckles. “No problem.” His cheeks tinged a light pink.

Mark holds his elbow out for you to take and you do. Your arm interlocks with his and you walk outside, a soccer mom van awaiting as your chariot.

Courtesy of William.

You and the girls make a move on taking photos while Mark, Rick and William get some food and chat with Amber’s boyfriend.

You take a quick glance at Mark and see him looking at you.

It’s cheesy but the world around you quiets down when your eyes meet his. Like there’s a secret language you speak with your eyes alone.

The DJ puts on a slow song and all the couples hit the floor.

You look at Eve apologetically but she shrugs it off.

“I’ll be alright, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

You nod and turn around to find Mark already two steps ahead of you.

“May I have this dance?” He asks with the suave of a 19th century duke.

“You may.”

Mark’s hands find your hips and your hands find his shoulders.

Being this close, gently swaying side to side while looking into each other’s eyes feels so intimate. A feeling of peace clouds the air and for the first time, Invincible can take a backseat and let Mark Grayson drive the car.

“This is nice.” He says.

“Mhm.” You nod once, twice.

Your fingers interlock behind his neck and it causes his neck hairs to arise.

“That tickles.” He huffs out.

Your lips split into a grin and you shake your head. “You’re so romantic.”

He shrugs and smiles back, taking a moment to really look at you.

He sees all of which makes you unique. Your makeup may cover up the moles and freckles and scars that litter your face but it only enhances your beauty for him.

The slight curve of your nose, your round cheeks and soft jaw.

Your eyes, though have a magnetic field of their own. They draw him in and make him never want to look away.

“You’re staring.” You mumble out, your bashful nature coming to the surface.

He blinks and lets the corners of his lips quirk up. “I can’t stop.” He whispers.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace.

It’s a different kind of spring this year. A spring that’s relatively normal, easygoing. The kind that is the start of a new beginning and makes you wonder, same time next year?

#amazon prime #amazon prime video #amazon prime video usa #invincible #amazon prime video invincible #mark grayson x fem!reader #mark grayson x y/n #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fluff #mark grayson oneshot #mark grayson imagine #♡ hearts 4 everyone! ♡#s writes!#first spring

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viaviavie · 2 months ago

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OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [SAVANACLAW]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, slightly suggestive (leona and ruggie), leona lifts you up bc he's a big man like that,

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this self-indulgent fic ofmine writing for savanaclaw was pretty funny tho

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

"I—"

"I object!"

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, herbivore? How bothersome. You had better be prepared to kiss the ground I walk on as soon as I grab you from the altar. You owe me for this, big time. Don't even think about lumping me in with the same lot as Ashengrotto. I suppose I'll have to retell you this as soon as I get you out of there... Damn it, the prefect couldn't pick up the goddamn phone for the fifteenth time. Park the car, Ruggie. I'm going in."

Imagine Leona's irritation when he has Grim tugging at his tail blubbering nonsense about you and a wedding. He really thought it was some stupid ploy to have him attend class or some arrangement until he heard Malleus expressing his concerns a couple rooms away.

Because what do you mean the herbivore is getting hitched into a royal family?! You sure that we are talking about the same magicless prefect with literally no credentials or documentation?

It's enough to have the beastman get up and deal with the issue himself. Consider yourself a lucky prefect since he is personally driving his way to the venue to pluck you from Prince Whatever's clutches.

Did he think the plan through? Not really. Leona is a prince himself from the Sunset Savannah, and he can easily abuse that status for issues like these. It should be easy. All he had to do was go in, and get you out, right? Right?

That being said, was it really necessary to dress for the occasion? He would have happily went in with his uniform, but Ruggie seemed to have insisted because no one would take him seriously if he came in looking like a bum! Hair tied back and donning a suit, he can easily pass as a prince charming if he tried. Still, he knows that you wouldn't expect him to be a white knight. You knew him too well to think him to be one.

Kicking down the doors of the chapel, everyone's eyes flew to Leona with mild shock and surprise. The second prince from the Sunset Savannah? What business could he possibly have here? Of course, that business would be no other than you who had gasped at the sight of the beastman, dressed to the nines as if he were the groom himself.

It takes everything in Leona's power to hold back his exasperated sigh when his eyes land on you. No wonder Pierce Charmant fell in love at first sight, you looked like an absolute dream. The longer he stared at you, the easier it was to forget that he had something to take care of here. As beautiful as you looked in that dress and veil, you would sooner suit the colors of the Sunset Savannah better than whatever this man's designers gave you.

Pierce lets out an uncomfortable cough, straightening his back as his eyes narrowed onto the beastman. "Prince Leona Kingscholar, I do recall sending an invitation. Unfortunately, you are quite late to the occasion." His hand extends towards the pews, a tight lipped smile surfacing his expression.

"Still, please have a seat. We can pardon the intrusion."

Leona flashes a haughty smile, his stance exuding pride and confidence. "You don't have to. I'm here to crash your wedding, Charmant." He takes long strides down to the altar, eyes fixated on your own. The beastman ignores the scandalized gasps, the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' as he makes his way to you, as if he was eager to retrieve a possession of his.

It's the way your lower lip quivers, how your hands wring against one another and the slight bead of sweat forming on your temples. It was difficult to tell if you were nervous yourself, or if you were just taken aback by how handsome the beastman was in his get-up.

"Herbivore," It snaps you out of your daze, reminding you to blink when your eyes land onto his narrowed green eyes. His voice is as commanding as ever, like the call of a lion to his pride.

Rather than addressing you from the high tops, he stands at the bottom of the alter with a raised brow, looking up to you. Then his lips curl upwards into a sly grin, mocking Pierce whose jaw was clenched.

"Herbivore, you really wanna marry that guy?" Leona asks in that low coaxing tone, very well knowing the answer before you shook your head wildly.

"No!"

Leona shrugs to himself with an exasperated sigh.

"Good enough for me."

Feeling a pair of strong arm wrap around your thighs, you couldn't help but let out a slight yelp when you felt your feet leave the ground. Instinctively clawing at Leona's back, you find yourself hoisted onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. The crowd gasps audibly, and you cannot help but hide your face in your hands as the beastman shamelessly began to walk towards the exit point without another word.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Pierce yells out from the altar, his hand falling to the blade hanging on his hip. You hear Leona snort, pausing for a moment to look back at the man. He rolls his eyes, almost annoyed by the other prince's theatrics.

"I'm bringing the Prefect back to where she belongs. I didn't think you weren't above spiriting strangers away over shoe sizes."

Gritting his teeth, Pierce shook his head and grinded onto his teeth. "You are not her guardian, nor her lover. You have no authority, Kingscholar!"

You can feel Leona exhale from the way his shoulders fall slightly, followed by how his grip on your middle tightens. "Then I stake my claim on her today," His tone is much more darker now, more dominating than the arrogant tone he had been using since he stepped through those doors.

Truly befitting of a lion demanding the submission of lower prey. "Do you really want to cross paths with my family, Charmant? I am sure my family is willing to negotiate at the next possible date." You know that Leona is smirking now, based on how irritation flashes across your supposed groom's face.

"Well, if you decide to try, my family will write you back in three days time. Until then, Charmant."

Noises erupt from the crowd as they watched Leona carry you down to the exit. Hanging against his back, you poke at his shoulder slightly. "Really? You have the authority to do that?" Leona clicks his tongue in his response, almost attempting to shush you down.

"Of course not, but Charmant doesn't have to know. Let Crowley take care of it. I am only the delivery boy."

Sure, it was a massive bluff on his end, but does it really matter? Leona got you out of that situation safe and sound! Even if it ended with you being hoisted over his shoulder and carried out of the cathedral, there was not a single scratch on you! That being said, Charmant was not exactly happy to know that Leona scammed him into letting you go, but you were long gone when he came to that conclusion.

Did we get Leona to drive you back to Night Raven College? Nope. Ruggie's getting a good bonus from being the getaway driver, not to mention the fact he drove you all through a fast-food drive-thru on Leona's wallet. He doesn't have to know either, not when he is fast asleep on your shoulder in the backseat.

Oddly enough, Leona wouldn't be leaving your side anytime soon. Even after Ruggie's dropped you off at Ramshackle, the lion beastman trails after you like a shadow into the manor, up until he's invaded your room.

"Leona, don't you have to go back to your dorm?" Raising a brow at your questioning tone, Leona crossed his arms and stared at you through the mirror's reflection.

The sun had already set long ago, leaving the moon filtering in through the windows. It was the only source of light, considering you haven't even though to flip the lights on. You can see Leona behind you, his eyes following the train of your dress and how it sweeps against the creaky floorboards.

"Ha? I haven't even started asking for compensation yet." He rumbles, finding his hand playing with the lace of your supposed wedding dress. The thought of it makes his stomach churn, followed by that prince's scent invading his nostrils.

Green eyes flicker back to you, something dark reflecting in them to the point where your breath is hitched.

"You ever thought of marriage before, herbivore?" Your eyes widened with surprise at his question. You could only let out a nervous chuckle, avoiding his gaze as you shift your gaze onto your wedding dress. "This entire experience has made me terrified of getting married for a while, Leona." You hear his humming from behind, eyes returning to the mirror to find his hand ghosting above the veil fixed onto the crown of your head. He doesn't let himself touch, only hovering slightly above the fabric. He seems almost lost in thought when he shoots the next question. "What kind of man are you looking for?" You stay silent, almost tempted to attack him for how seductive his voice seemed to sound in that moment. He must've been doing it on purpose. Then he chuckles slightly, teasing. "Don't tell me you're after the princely type like Charmant Ultra-Soft there." He easily catches your wrist when you whipped around to face him, smirking slightly at your somewhat flustered expression. "Of course not! He's... he's not my type anyways!" "Then what's your type then?" Gulping to yourself, you take a step back. He takes one forward. Another step back, another of his comes forward, all until your back is pressed against the fixed mirror. With a quiet purr from his throat, he hunches forward to hover above the crook of your neck.

You are already so certain that he sees through you, through the way your heart pounds in your ears or to the way you let him invade your personal space like he belonged there. Leona's lips quirk up into a smirk, followed by a knowing hum. "You never know, Prefect. Maybe Charmant will come knocking down your door claiming my stake on you is fake." His large hand presses itself against your hip in an almost possessive manner, but you can easily sense his hesitance, waiting for your approval.

"Or maybe, you'll wake up to everyone crowning you as a princess from the Sunset Savannah. Would it be so bad, herbivore?"

Pulling himself away, Leona rests an arm above your head and towers over you. You cannot avoid his gaze now, nor can you avoid that smug look of his against the glow of moonlight.

"Would it be so bad being yours?"

RUGGIE BUCCHI

"Nah, I can't use the Kingscholar name. Leona's gonna have my neck if I used his identity... Ali Baba? Does it look like I own thousands of camels and elephants? Come on, Jack. You're a smart cookie, you can think of some fancy-schmancy princey name for me! Can't exactly start a dispute with a royal family that doesn't exist... Pssh, you think Crowley's gonna help out in time? Prefect's gonna end up paying alimony if we let him take care of it! Come on, you got it Jack! Think faster!"

For all the trouble that Ruggie had caused you during and after Leona's overblot, he had to hand it over to you— you were probably one of the most well-resourced individuals in the campus. Sure, you had no magic but you had a good head above your shoulders and you seemed to have a knack for getting yourself out of tricky situations. It was admirable, really. He really respects you, and would often trust that you can take care of yourself!

Alas, you couldn't get yourself out of this situation. Ruggie had to do the biggest double-take when he looked over to see a wedding being broadcasted on Jack's phone, only to see you being dragged against your will for a gown fitting at a boutique.

Judging by that freaked out look on your face, you're going to need some help and Ruggie is ready to help you escape! Sure, he isn't as powerful as Leona or influential as Malleus... Now that he thought of it, how was he going to take you back safely without causing a ruckus? Crowley obviously is out of the question, and you might as well be married at sunset if he doesn't do anything now.

He's gonna have to pull out the big S.

S, as in, scammer.

"Darling, I'm here!"

You cannot keep your jaw from falling from its hinges as you watch Ruggie walk into the cathedral with a certain stride that was so unlike him. He wears a suit that is too expensive for his tastes, posture straight and refined to the point you were almost fooled into thinking it was a rich twin brother separated from birth.

In that moment, he seemed more like Azul than he did the hyena beastman you knew. It was only for a brief moment before you saw Ruggie, with his little crooked smile and the way he rubs the back of his neck with a hint of shyness.

"... Darling?" You croak in confusion. Ruggie laughs, easing your nervous heart. "Shishishi, it's me! Sorry, where you waiting for me that long?" Without a care in a world, the hyena beastman is making quick steps down the aisle towards you. You can tell that he is nervous though, based on the way his tail twitches slightly as eyes follow him down.

"And who are you?" Pierce demands. Ruggie gasps, feigning offense as he glances to the crowd, looking for some sort of support. "Me? You don't recognize me?" Sighing dramatically, the beastman shook his head in disappointment.

"Sheesh, didn't think that royalty these days haven't kept up with the times. Let me introduce myself," He grins, bowing to disguise the fact that he is playing a crook.

"Prince Varve Cu, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Barbecue?! Is that what you're craving, Ruggie?!

You want to choke on the air you just sharply inhaled. You've always known that Ruggie was clever and that he was not above dirty tricks, but you never did expect him to try and scam royalty into thinking he's someone else!

But Pierce hums to himself, attempting to recall the unfamiliar name in the recesses of his memory. "Cu? I have never heard of that name before." It almost baffles you that the prince was actually questioning his own memory, over a family name that never existed.

Always the opportunist, Ruggie scoffs in a spoiled manner, turning his nose up childishly. You would have been fooled by his act if you never really knew his true nature.

"How rude! We are quite the affluent family, you know? Luckily for you, I'm in a very good mood." Ruggie clears his throat, running a hand through his hair as he reaches his hand out towards you.

"I'm here to take back the Ramshackle Prefect. I am afraid she's already spoken for."

You may never get a chance to escape again, so you quickly flee Pierce's side to take Ruggie's hand. Easily, his hand wraps itself around your waist as he steps in front of you.

Pierce raises a brow, almost alarmed by how swiftly you had retreated to this mystery man. "You had no ring when we met. You never mentioned being betrothed to another prince, Prefect."

Thankfully, Ruggie is quick to answer for you with all the flowery vocabulary he can muster. "Clearly, if you were better well-informed, the Cu family does not require the use of rings. We firmly believe our love is enough proof to the world that we are one!" He turns to you and winks, hiding away his nervous grip on your waist.

"And we are in love, aren't we?"

There's that look in his eyes that is begging for you to play along with the lie, before everything would fall apart. Ruggie knew he fell for the right girl when you cozied up to his side, playing up a few tears and whimpers.

"I was so scared! How can I possibly tell this man that I already belonged to someone else? He wouldn't let me go!" You exclaimed, earning shocked reactions from the crowd.

Pierce gulps to himself, hands raised in defense. "Well, I—!"

Ruggie clutches your hands, playing the part of a charismatic prince that he would only be for a few more minutes. "Say no more, Prefect. I understand. Rest assured, you will never leave my side ever again." He drawls dramatically before he straightens his posture, glaring with the energy of a spoiled brat as he could muster.

"I will be certain to spare you of my family's wrath! They do not take very lightly to incidents like these, but for the sake of my lovely girl here, I shall be lenient."

Pierce finds himself nodding nervously, wanting to hide from the scrutiny of the crowd that seemed to be shocked that he would try to marry an unwilling bride, much to your annoyance. Only now, they decide to question this wedding?!

The hyena beastman begins to lead you by the waist, ushering you through the carpets in a hurried manner. "Let us be on our way, Prefect." He murmurs into your ear, but it is not the exit he takes you to.

Rather, it's the buffet table set to the side.

"Ruggie, what are you doing?" You whisper as he pauses at the edge, grabbing two paper plates and shoving one into your hands. He grins at you, hiding a laugh behind a free palm.

"Shishishi— I ain't planning on leaving emptyhanded, Prefect. Help me out here, will you? Let's take as much as we can before this idiot catches on. Come on, let's stack up a plate for the ride back!"

Luckily for you and Ruggie, you both manage to sneak away before anyone started realizing that the hyena beastman had fooled everyone in that cathedral. It's a subtle reminder for him to lay low for the next few weeks and deny any relation to being a prince. Does a guy like him look like a prince? Sure, he's the prince of empty pockets!

Munching on the wedding treats with a hand on the wheel, Ruggie has already prepared himself for the long drive back to Night Raven College. He's already begun negotiating some sort of compensation for getting you out of that wedding. A handful of favors here and there, mostly packed lunches from you to keep him fueled for a couple of days.

He expects you to be in more comfortable clothing by the time he's finished returning Leona's car and clothes. Much to his surprise, you're still in that poofy wedding dress, holding onto your own cup of instant noodles while Ruggie's was on the little coffee table in your living room. You do not miss the way his tail wags at the sight or how he averts his gaze, shuffling to the space beside you.

"You couldn't take it off on your own?" He questions, only to be replied with a casual shrug from you.

"Couldn't reach the zipper. I gave up."

Ah.

Consigning himself to the awkward silence, he takes his own cup and starts to munch down on the supposed 'wedding' dinner. Both you and him watch the flickers of the old television, watching some news as white noise. It's only coverage on the wedding, the runaway bride and the mysterious prince that seems to not exist.

Ruggie knows better than to let intrusive thoughts leave his lips, but he cannot help it as Pierce Charmant appears on the screen. "You think you ever gonna marry rich? Charmant was ready to give you an easy ticket to luxury, you know?" He doesn't meet your eyes, but you feel his tail brush against your arm, badgering for an answer.

Following a slurp, you shake your head. "I mean, if I was able to get a divorce with good settlement money? I would've." You tell him with a short shrug, so casually as if it were a lighthearted topic.

A bitter laugh leaves Ruggie's lips, ears deflated slightly at the thought. "Yeah? He can give you a pretty easy life, but he'd be real lucky to have you. Seven-time overblot champion? He's won jackpot." Not really. It was never about your achievements anyways. Pierce would've been the luckiest man in Twisted Wonderland to win you over, for all your sweetness and edges.

Ruggie's sulky behavior does not go missed by you, and you could only nudge his elbow. "I would've taken the settlement money and asked you on a date. My treat," It's the way his ears perk up, his head whipped towards you hastily with that surprised expression. He doesn't even realize his tail is brushing against the couch wildly, or that his cheeks are getting warm as he takes in your shy smile.

"It'd be funny if we ended up going on more dates and I ended up using that settlement money for a wedding. It saves a lot of money, don't you think so?"

Laughter bubbles from Ruggie's chest, and in that moment, he finds himself falling in love all over again. "Shishishi, you're a genius! That's what I like about you!"

Shifting closer to your side, Ruggie presses his cheek against your shoulder. The dress takes up so much space that it nearly swallows him too, hiding your hands from sight as he laces his fingers with yours in a silent confession.

You squeeze in conformation, relaxing into his warmth as he eyes the skirt with interest.

"Think we can sell it? Might catch a big buck for a royal wedding dress." You mutter with a gleam of amusement in your eyes. Ruggie chuckled to himself in agreement. "Yeah? I'd be happy to sell it for you as long as I get a cut of profits as the selling agent."

"Do you take payments in kisses?"

Instant noodles set aside, Ruggie licks his lips as he leans in towards you. For a prey-like subspecies, he looks very much like a predator looking down on his meal when he stares at you this way. Eyes fixated on your plush lips, he hummed in contemplation.

"Wanna give me one now for all the hard work I did getting you out of that wedding?"

JACK HOWL

"I'm sure that it's just a misunderstanding. If Prince Charmant is everything he says he is, then surely, he will let her go. I will be sure of it that she returns to Ramshackle tonight. The Prefect... I would rather not see her look so distressed like that. I just hope she isn't harmed in any way. Ace, if everything goes south... have Lilia on speed dial. If I cannot save the Prefect, Malleus would be our last resort. Agreed? Agreed."

Possibly the least unhinged one on this list. Not gonna lie, out of everyone in this school, definitely the least dramatic and most pragmatic ones out there. He insisted on dragging Crowley to the altar, but the Headmaster was nowhere to be found.

Sure, Jack has his own feelings for you. Of course, he doesn't want to see you get married to someone else. However, it is your choice and he will always support that.

That being said, he knows you don't want to get married based on your pale expression and strained grins. Clearly, you aren't very enthusiastic about his wedding and if Jack had confidence in himself, he already knew that this prince was certainly not your type.

Jack is smart enough to enlist the help of your closest friends. The first years are definitely helping, from transportation to the last line of defenses if things got awry in that cathedral. Sebek is ready outside to contact Lilia and Malleus should it be necessary, but Jack hopes it won't have to come down to that.

He is probably the only one who has faith that Pierce Charmant can see reason, even when he was the same one who got deluded into thinking you were his one true love because of your shoe size.

Jack doesn't actually dress himself up! He comes in without any fancy preparation really. He's just that much of an authentic guy, and he cares too much about you to keep up appearances.

Jack comes in panting and drenched in sweat, driven by a sense of urgency and alarm. He truly thought he was too late, but it seems that he came at the right time.

"Prefect!" He yells out, eyes zoning onto you as you dropped the bouquet in your hands. The sight of him urges you to move, a mixture of worry and relief swirling in your core.

"Jack!" Your voice rings out in return, echoing of the walls.

Abandoning Pierce, you ignore the prince's calls to you as you race down to the wolf beastman. You ignore the gasps and the stares, immediately pressing your hands against Jack's toned bicep.

"Jack, are you okay?!" You cry out, feeling his chest heave in and out for air. He winces, looking up at you and it only makes his chest constrict even tighter. Jack never meant to worry you like this, but that concern of yours makes his heart skip too many beats.

"Prefect," He doesn't answer your initial question as he attempts to stand up straight amidst pants. Large calloused hands tremble as they take yours, as if keeping them safe in his gentle grip.

"Please don't marry him. Don't marry him if you don't wish to."

He cares not for the prince, the crowd, not even his own feelings as he contemplates the thought of you giving your heart away to someone else. Sucking sharply through his teeth, Jack looks up to a scandalized Pierce who stares from afar. "I am not the one to dictate you what to do, who you choose to give your heart to." He returns his gaze to you, a look so gentle in spite of his sharp features. Jack makes an effort to be soft with you, so quiet in the moment in spite of the spectators watching you both. He wouldn't be this way in public, you knew this.

But if this was the last time he may ever see you as the Prefect, and not some prince's wife, then he wouldn't lose that chance.

Jack lets go of your hands, allowing his trembling fingers to grasp your shoulders lightly. Swallowing to himself, he asks with such uncertainty that it's almost unlike him to doubt what he knew of you. "Prefect, do you wish to marry that man?" He murmurs, eyeing Pierce once more.

He had to be sure. Jack never wanted to take away your choice and perhaps, he was the one with the misunderstanding. Perhaps, you did want to marry this prince from the bottom of your heart.

It was relief that flooded his chest and sparked life back into his tail when you shake your head, beaming at him as if he were a silly boy.

"I don't want to marry him, Jack."

Your words are enough to give him resolve to look at Pierce clearly now. Firm and stubborn, Jack glares at the prince as he positions himself in front of you like a guard. Defensive, but not complacent.

"You heard the Prefect. She doesn't want to marry you." Before Pierce could retort, Jack cleared his throat once more with a sense of authority. He may be a random student from Night Raven College, but that was not going to stop him from defending your wishes against someone who could abuse his power.

"If you have a problem with that, talk it up with Headmaster Crowley. Otherwise, you cannot force her into wedding you. Can you sincerely call yourself a proud student of Royal Sword Academy if you go against the very conducts your school preaches?"

Honestly, Ace and Deuce had to interfere before Jack began to scold the rest of the guests for letting you get married against your will. Admittedly, no one really wanted to interfere now because of how much shame they felt after Jack's lecturing.

Jack was mindful to bring in an extra pair of clothes for you! He would have been happy to rummage through your closet for you, but he is a certified gentleman. He wouldn't go through your stuff without asking, so you would have to settle for wearing some of his clothes. They are likely to be a bit bigger on you, but it sends his tail wagging on overdrive to see you draped in his clothes, his scent.

Quite sweet of the first years to help take you back to Ramshackle. Both you and Jack seemed to have forgotten that you had borrowed his clothes though. The least you could do is wash them for him before you've returned them.

"You didn't have to do that, you know?" Jack grumbled, arms crossed across his pectorals with that disgruntled expression. You knew better than to buy his nonchalant act when his tail seems to undo his efforts to seem unbothered.

You raised a brow at him, holding out his folded laundry in your arms. "What's wrong with it? They're pretty much ready for you to wear."

The wolf beastman sighs to himself, glancing away to avoid your gaze. His cheeks are starting to burn red, but he won't ever acknowledge them. "You don't get it, Prefect. Just drop the subject and leave the clothes on the bench."

It was cruel of you to even think of teasing Jack, but it isn't so often you get to opportunity. You pout at him, clutching the clothes close to your chest.

"... does my detergent stink that bad?"

Your words take him aback, almost like a heinous offense. Before you realized it, Jack had wrung the laundry from your hands and held the fabric closely to his chest. "I never said that! Don't misunderstand!" He stammers, subconsciously wringing a shirt up his neck.

Jack immediately realizes he's fallen in your trap when you smile at him knowingly. Sighing in defeat, he submits to your whims. "You... I like your scent. It gets hard to concentrate when you're..." He mumbles shyly, ears flattened as he fights the urge to bury his nose into his clothes that are now laced with your scent.

"Was this how you won that prince over? I wouldn't be surprised." He mumbles to himself in exasperation. You could only laugh softly as you approach him, rubbing small circles on his back comfortingly. "Are you implying that I won you over too?" He says nothing, silently brooding to the side in a futile attempt to keep his tail still.

You don't exactly help his case when you place a kiss on his cheek either.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #viaviavie writes #twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #jack howl x reader

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writeriguess · 3 months ago

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Sero hanta x fem reader, it’s after the war and UA decided to do a family day and everyone finds out that hanta has a girlfriend and twins who birthday just so happened to be during the war.

Taped Together

The war had left scars—on their bodies, their hearts, and the world they once knew. But life had a way of moving forward, and UA had decided to host a Family Day to remind everyone that despite everything, they still had something worth fighting for.

You had been hesitant to come, not because you didn’t want to, but because no one knew about you. Not even Sero’s closest friends. It wasn’t intentional; your relationship had just been something private—something safe. And then, when the war started, you had been forced to stay in hiding, pregnant.

A small hand tugging at your hoodie brought you back to the present. Looking down, you met your son’s big brown eyes, the spitting image of his father, from the toothy grin to the messy mop of dark hair. His twin sister, standing at your other side, squeezed your fingers excitedly.

"Mama, do you think Daddy's gonna be surprised?" she asked, bouncing on her heels.

You smiled. "Oh, sweetheart, he's gonna lose his mind."

—

The moment you walked onto UA’s campus, you felt the stares. The other Pro Heroes, former students, and faculty were scattered across the field, laughing, talking, introducing their families. But as you stepped closer, hand-in-hand with your children, the conversation around you began to die down.

And then—

"No fucking way."

A very familiar voice cut through the crowd. You looked up just in time to see Bakugo’s jaw drop, his usually sharp red eyes comically wide. Mina, Kaminari, and Kirishima weren’t any better, looking back and forth between you and the two identical mini-Seros standing beside you.

"Oi, Sero! What the hell, man?!" Kaminari shouted, waving his arms wildly.

At the sound of his name, Sero turned around—and froze.

It was almost funny how dramatically his face shifted. From casual confusion to pure disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to process what he was seeing.

His gaze flickered from you, to the kids, back to you, back to the kids—then he inhaled sharply.

"No."

You bit back a laugh. "Yes."

"No."

"Yes, babe."

"NO, NO, NO—"

Before he could spiral into another round of stunned denial, his daughter bolted forward, tiny arms outstretched.

"DADDY!!"

Sero barely had time to react before she launched herself at him, tape instinctively shooting out to steady her before she crashed into his chest. His arms snapped around her, holding tight, almost like he was afraid to let go.

His son ran up next, a little more hesitant, but Sero grabbed him just as fiercely, pressing kisses into his messy hair, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You’re real, right?" Sero finally choked out, pulling back slightly to cup their little faces, scanning every feature as if trying to burn the moment into his memory.

"We’re real!" his daughter giggled. "Mommy brought us!"

At that, Sero’s head snapped up, locking eyes with you again. And suddenly, he was moving, pulling you in—one arm wrapped around your waist, the other still holding his children close.

"You’re really here." His voice cracked, forehead pressing against yours.

You smiled softly. "I’m sorry it took so long."

He laughed wetly, kissing you hard before pulling back to study your face.

"Don’t be sorry," he whispered. "You brought them to me. That’s all that matters."

—

"So let me get this straight." Mina finally spoke after a long silence. "You—you had twins? During the war?? And you didn’t tell anyone?!"

Sero, still cradling both of his children, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh… surprise?"

Kaminari looked offended. "We could’ve been Uncle Kami and Aunt Mina this whole time, and you kept it from us??"

Bakugo crossed his arms. "Dumbass."

Kirishima, always the supportive one, grinned brightly. "I dunno, man. I think it makes sense. Sero’s always been good at keeping things together."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"KIRISHIMA, GET OUT."

#sero hanta #sero x reader #bnha x reader #hanta sero #hanta x reader #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero hanta x you #baku no hero academia #baku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia

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danoslvrr · 7 months ago

Text

“father & son” - james kelly x sam monroe x fem!reader

summary ; sam kelly, son of james kelly, has been best friends with you since you were a small child. his family is practically your own at this point.

warnings ; mentions of abuse, pet names (doll, baby, sweetheart, darlin, angel), sam is still emo, james takes care of reader, cuddling, kissing, rough family life for reader.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you’ve struggled your entire life. emotional abuse at home, struggling in school, poor self image. the one thing you had was sam kelly. he had been your best friend since you were 4 years old, and now, at 17, you two were far more intimate with one another than “best friends” should be.

constant kisses to your cheeks and forehead, an arm wrapped around your waist or slung around your shoulder while he walked you to class. you didn’t mind, of course. sam was cute, you thought. you had had a crush on him since forever. you’d spent most of your life yearning after the boy, but only in silence.

never would you speak of your crush on sam kelly, nor would you ever complain about the affection he showed you now. over the past few weeks, things had gotten much more intimate than usual. he’d press quick kisses to your lips when saying goodbye to you in the halls, he’d cuddle you during sleepovers. it all made your heart flutter wildly.

now, with all that being said, you’re here, in the kelly household, sandwiched between sam and his father, james on the couch. james had always shown you the love you didn’t get at home and stood up for you when you needed it most. he was like a second father to you. james’ arm was slung around your shoulder while sam’s head rested on your shoulder opposite james. sam pressed soft, sleepy kisses to your neck every few minutes.

“jamie?” you asked quietly. “yeah, sweetheart?” his thick accent hung heavy in the air. “‘s it okay if i spend the night?” your meek voice was shy and soft. “‘course, babydoll. yer always welcome here.” a shy smile spread across your face, pink flooding your round cheeks. “thanks.” you whispered. he nodded in response, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head.

james tugged you a little closer. sam whined in response. “hey, no fair! she’s- she’s my best friend.” sam mumbled. he cuddled closer to you, wrapping both of his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your covered shoulder. james chuckled. “alright, kiddo, alright. you can have ‘er.” he said. he retracted his arm from around your shoulders, using both hands to brace himself as he stood up.

quickly, sam slid to lay down with his head in your lap. “hi, baby.” he mumbled, nuzzling his cheek into your soft tummy. “hi, sweet boy.” you whispered. you leaned down, pressing kisses to his face. he chuckled softly, tugging on your shirt, insisting you laid down beside him. “okay, okay,” you giggled, “hold on.” you moved to lay down, quickly hiding your face in his neck. “hey, lemme see that pretty face,” sam chuckled.

you emerged from the crook of his neck, a light blush coating your features once more, a shy smile tugged across your lips. “there’s my pretty girl.” sam cooed. he wrapped a hand around your waist while the other came up to cup your cheek. he gently tilted your head up, peering down at you for permission. you nodded with a shy giggle and he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. this time it wasn’t as quick as it usually was.

sam kissed you for several seconds before pulling away. you yawned and your eyes fluttered suddenly. “hmm?” he asked. “you tired, sweet baby?” you nodded meekly, sniffling as he pulled you to lay against his chest. “go to sleep, angel.” he whispered. your heart fluttered. he tugged you a bit closer, his movement and touch soft and delicate. after a few minutes, your eyes fluttered shut and you were asleep in sam kelly’s arms.

you woke up hours later with sam fast asleep beside you on the couch. he had pulled a blanket over you while you had slept, keeping your body warm. although, now, you were breaking out in a cold sweat. your heart raced, tears pooling in your eyes. you crawled off of sam and the couch, gently but shakily placing the blanket back on top of him. you shook as you walked towards james’ room down the hall.

you knocked on the door, whispering a soft “jamie?” as you did so. you heard a quiet grumble before you spoke, and then james’ voice softened when he realized it was you. “yea, sweetheart?” his voice called out gently. “m.. had a nightmare. ‘m scared, jamie.” he sighed softly. nightmares weren’t a new thing for you. “c’mere, babydoll.” he whispered.

you gently pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness of the room, lit only by the dim glow of the tv playing white noise beside james’ bed. “don’t be shy, doll, c’mere. come sit wit’ me.” he chuckled sleepily. you flushed. you obeyed, though, walking towards him and slipping under the covers beside him. your doe-like eyes peered up at him, and his heart melted at the innocent sight of you.

“oh, baby…” he cooed, “c’mere, sweet girl, cuddle up.” you obeyed, snuggling into james’ side as his large hand slid around your shoulders. “what happened, kiddo?” he asked softly. “don’t wanna talk about it ‘f that’s okay, jamie.” you mumbled. “‘course it’s okay, doll. don’t gotta talk about anythin’ you don’t wanna.” you smiled weakly. he sighed, his arms wrapping around your waist to lift you up and pull you into his lap.

you hummed contentedly as he cradled your head against his firm chest. you cuddled up a bit closer to him, snuggling against the warmth of his much bigger body. “shh,” he whispered, “shh, i’ve got you. you’re safe.” you whimpered into his skin, tears pooling in your eyes yet again. “oh, hey… hey, kiddo, i mean it. you’re safe.” he whispered soothingly. he gently rocked you back and forth, his large hand stroking your hair.

“you just go back to sleep. i’ve got you, kid. gonna make sure you’re safe.” he whispered as you sobbed. you felt like a child, sobbing into james’ arms as he held you in his lap, but you were too distressed to be embarrassed. you sniffled. “baby. look at me.” he whispered. slowly, sleepily, you lifted your head to make eye contact with james.

“you know i’m never gonna let anything hurt you while you’re here, right darlin’?” you nodded meekly. “okay. then go to sleep, ‘m gonna protect you.” you nodded again, tears slowing. for a second, the two of you sat in silence, before a groggy sam walked into the room. “where’s- oh, angel…” he whispered. “she had a nightmare, sammy, ‘s okay. you wanna come sit with us?” james asked, rough voice unusually soft.

sam didn’t answer, just crawling into bed beside you. he reached out to place a hand on your cheek. he didn’t force you to look at him, didn’t move your head at all. just left his hand there soothingly, rubbing small circles into your soft skin. “go back to sleep, kiddo.” james whispered. “mm…” you hummed, feeling considerably calmer and more at ease with james holding you and sam’s hand on your cheek. sam leaned over to place a kiss to your cheek.

your response never came as you quickly passed out in their arms, safe and loved by the two people you trusted most.

#sam monroe x reader #james kelly #james kelly x reader #sam monroe #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #trending #platonic #fanfic #angst #fluff

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mostly-marvel-musings · 7 months ago

Note

Hi, I am slipping into your Kinktober requests again, if that's okay with you! I'd love to request something for Hugh Jackman this time, as I keep seeing more and more of him, and I'm happy to drool over that fantastic man with your stories! 👀

Kissing down every inch of your body they possibly can, showing how much they love you. + "Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name.

I'm preparing to melt into a permanent puddle of goo here as I'm happily waiting to see what you'll come up with here. Again, thank you for everything you share with us, and I'm looking forward to reading it all! 🤍

Kiss away your insecurities

A/N: Thank you for requesting this, my darling! Hope you like it :) Special thanks to @stark-ironman for helping me with this idea 💛

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut themes, angst, floof. Body image issues, self-doubt and negative talk.

Hugh Jackman, Logan Masterlist

You were still out of breath.

Heart pounding wildly against your ribcage thanks to the activities you and your boyfriend were up to ever since he got home. Even though the shared sounds of passion had died down, they were now replaced with your louder insecurities, forcing you to curl away from the man and head to the bathroom to clean up.

Hugh frowned as the door slammed shut with a little more force than usual. Concerned, he knocked on it asking if you were okay.

“Uh, yeah. Fine.” You responded, blinking back tears that began rapidly gathering. Your inner thoughts screamed you didn’t deserve all of this.

“Mind if I join you for a quick shower, darling?” Hugh called again after hearing the water running. Something you had a habit of doing every time you were overwhelmed with emotions.

“Actually I’m going to be right out. You know I have the—the thing early morning.”

Cursing yourself to have to lie, you scrubbed your body forcefully, glad the tears streamed down with the hot water and your shaky voice was somewhat covered.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you were met with a concerned Hugh, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Why would you think that?” You faked a laugh, going around him to get dressed for bed. Knowing fully well you weren’t fooling your boyfriend.

“Because you’re avoiding me.”

Giving him your most reassuring smile that you could muster, you shook your head as you slipped into one of his well worn t-shirts, getting onto your side of the bed.

“No it’s just, I have to wake up early tomorrow and I wanted to get a quick shower in. I’m fine. Really.”

He was silent for a while as he joined you in bed, watching you fluff the pillows before you turned away from the man to switch off the bedside lamp.

“You can tell that to someone who believes your lies, darling. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” He tried again, switching the lamp back on and reaching out for your hand.

“Would you just drop it, Hugh?” You snapped, hating yourself for it as you turned the lights out again, pulling the blanket over and hiding yourself in its fluffy depths, hoping it would somehow cover your imperfections.

Your mind was still flooded with all sorts of thoughts about the way you looked, and how any day your little daydream would end and Hugh would realise what a mistake dating you was.

What was he even with you? You were far from perfect. You had curves that no matter what you did wouldn’t go away. You got trapped in your own head quite a bit, you were moody, and ten thousand other things that would push you away from the ‘ideal girlfriend’ title.

You lived in constant fear that he’d wake up one day and decide he was done with you. Then what would you ever do?

The next morning you woke up before Hugh did and went for a run, hoping it would clear your head.

It worked until you got a few heads turning in your direction, it wasn’t uncommon considering who you were dating; it was still overwhelming sometimes. You heard giggles and judgemental scoffs, possibly they were commenting on the way you looked.

It made you want to disappear. A sense of your deepest fears winning made you rush home, discard your jacket and ready to retreat into your room for the rest of the day. That was until your eyes fell on the breakfast spread that lay waiting on the table to your right.

“Morning sunshine! I thought I’d whip up your favourite breakfast today since you—hey, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t realise you had teared up again until Hugh rushed to your side with worry.

“Why are you with me?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I mean why are you with me? I don’t deserve any of this. You could be with anyone you want, I don’t understand why—”

He stepped in your line of vision, silencing your little ramble before gently wiping your tears away and leading you to sit on an armchair.

Wordlessly holding your hand against his chest, he took a deep breath in, gently coaxing you to follow. When you did, you could feel your erratic breaths returning to a normal slowly but surely. Just his presence on difficult days like these was calming.

“Talk to me?” he nudged, hands still clasped reassuringly.

“I just feel like you could do so much better than this…than me. You’re so—I mean, I am—”

Struggling to complete the sentence, you couldn’t help the crack in your voice as you avoided his gaze, shifting nervously on the chair.

“Beautiful? Kind? The best thing to have happened to me?” Hugh tilted your face to meet your eyes again, his own shining with all the love and adoration reserved just for you.

You wanted to believe him, so badly, yet the voices in your head got loud enough to make you doubt every single thing.

“I won’t allow you to talk much less think such lies about my amazing girlfriend, you know. She’s lucky her boyfriend immensely enjoys demonstrating just how much she means to him.”

You smiled at that, much to Hugh's relief, shaking your head.

"If you'll allow me to show you, my love."

With that he picked you up, leaving no room for any further protests from your side. Kicking the bedroom door shut with his foot, his lips descending onto yours in a kiss that effectively quieted down your fears and filled you with a renewed sense of assurance.

As the kiss deepened, your anxieties melted away, giving way for all the love that you held for this man, who by a miracle from the universe, was all yours. When you eventually broke the kiss after what felt like hours, he continued demonstrating all that he'd promised, making sure to whisper words that held such honesty, you wholeheartedly believed them.

This was nothing like you'd ever experienced before. This was more than just sex, it was worshiping, cherishing and much more. He held you close, accepting every curve, every scar, every last freckle as his own, showering you with all his love. You hadn't felt so loved, so respected, so seen, ever before in your life.

When you were filled to the hilt with his manhood, a moan that you trying so hard to suppress, escaped. Quickly covered your mouth with a hand, you quieted down, embarrassed.

"Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name."

"I'm afraid I'm too loud." you whispered.

Hugh tutted, interlacing your fingers and firmly locking your hands over your head, securing them in their rightful place as he began moving in your sopping heat.

"Not loud enough. Let 'em hear. Let 'em hear who's making you feel good, sweetheart."

Hot and breathy against your ear, his honeyed voice was enough to turn your insides to mush, encouraging you to not hold back anymore.

Soon, the walls of the house echoed with your shared sounds of passion, the intensity of them evident as you reached your highs together. Bodies trembling with wanton need as you drew the most sinful moans out of each other, fully alive in the moment.

As your climax crashed over you, it seemed to wash away any lingering negativity and uncertainty you had previously felt, making you sure of your dreams being actualized.

#hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman fiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman x female reader #mostly marvel musings #real person fiction

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