#who could walk through walls disappear and fly

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 135

Jack and Maddie accidentally de-age Danny. Of course toddler Danny doesn’t have good control of his powers. Cue reveal.

Danny bolts.

This could be good parents. Could be bad parents.

Cujo decides Danny must be protected. So he takes position of guard dog. Danny just roaming city streets with a green giant dog. Multiple hero’s report the meta child with flying dog.

And the armed RV chasing said toddler.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #good boy cujo #the Fentons could be searching for him cause the think they killed him #the ray turned him into a ghost #they have to help him #now they have a ghost son #they need to review their entire life’s work #or #decide Danny isn’t Danny #and just the perfect way to help their research #it’s what Danny would of wanted #meanwhile heros are chasing this toddler #who could walk through walls disappear and fly #with the dog who won’t let them near

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

#I watched Epilogue from JLU right before this #can you tell #I'm in my feelings so hard rn #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #my writing #batman #danny phantom

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is stuck in the DC Universe against his will. He is trying to build a Ghost Portal to try and get back home, but he needs to steal a bunch from the different High-Tech Companies in the DC Universe

So now Wayne-Tech, Lex-Corp, Palmer Industries, Star Labs, and everything else you can think of has been robbed by a Meta-Human Theif who can walk through walls, disappear, and fly

Eventually, Danny gets all the parts he needs for the Portal and starts to build it in some forest outside of Gotham.

At the same time, Constantine reports to the League that the small traces of magical green goo they found at each crime scene was Ectoplasm. Basically Death Energy in Liquid Form from a Dimension called the Infinite Realms. They figure out that all the parts put together could be used to build a Portal, and the Ectoplasm makes them suspect that he is trying to open a Portal the the Infinite Realms

Constantine says that the Ectoplasm has energy readings that suggest it is from the High King, but it is mixed in with a bunch of Human DNA. He suspects that Danny is a Thrall of Pariah Dark, created so he could open a Portal the the Infinite Realms and pave the way for his Invasion of their Dimension.

They find a way to track down the Portal, right when Danny is about to open it.

A final battle ensues as Danny desperately tries to defend his Portal, while the computer reads out the Countdown to the Portal Opening. When the timer reaches 1, Batman finds a Bomb near the Portal Opening and throws it into the tunnel, destroying the entire Portal in one go.

They all stand back, watching as Danny stops and collapses in front of the destroyed Portal. Constantine warns them to be careful, Pariah Dark is a being of pure hatred, and once they piss off his Thrall he will attack them with all his angered might. "This bloke is about to explode. Once he realizes what he's looking at, he's gonna-"

But he is cut off when they hear drops of water hiting the ground, coming from the direction of the Portal. Danny is silently crying, looking at all his hard work go to up in flames.

They are all stunned. Constantine warned them that the Thralls of Pariah Dark were incapable of any emotion other than Anger, that they were completely sadistic monsters who took pleasure in ripping Mortals apart piece by piece. But this wasn't anything like that.

This was a Child, crying on his knees while staring at his Portal he had worked so hard to build.

"Why?" He asks.

"You were going to open a Portal to the Infinite Realms. We know you are a Thrall of Pariah Dark, you would have let his army through to our dimension."

"But Pariah Dark is dead."

"If he was dead, then why did we find traces of the King's energy in your Ectoplasm?"

"I'm beat him a few months ago. I'm the new king."

"Wait, so why were you trying to open the Portal?"

"I just wanted to see my family again. It wasn't even going to be open for long, I had a bomb ready to destroy it behind me..."

The Justice League realizes they all fucked up.

#Dp X DC #Dpxdc #Dp #DC #Dcu #Danny Phantom #dp x dc prompt #Danny is just trying to go home but these assholes keep attacking him #He finally has a way to go home and see his parents #And he set up a Bomb so this world doesn't have to deal with all the stuff that his world does #But Bat-Bitch threw it into the Portal #Normally he would be so angry #But now hes so tired that he can't be bothered anymore #He's just sad now #I blame Constantine #Get better sources

[vivwritesfics]

I'm Having Your Baby

It's None Of Your Business

It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.

(I actually don't like Harry Styles)

Warnings: smut, mention of abortion

The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.

He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.

He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.

She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.

He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.

Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.

But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.

The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.

But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.

But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.

Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.

She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.

It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.

The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.

"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.

Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"

But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.

It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.

It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.

Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.

She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.

"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.

Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.

I remember

That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?

Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.

Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.

He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.

It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?

After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.

I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me

No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.

Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?

Are you keeping it?

Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it

That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.

I want nothing to do with it

She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.

Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.

It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.

Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.

She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.

But it remained unchanged.

"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.

But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."

"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #carlos sainz x you #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused. 

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities. 

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served. 

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side. 

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me. 

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream. 

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing. 

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me. 

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is." 

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harrystylesau #harry styles fanfiction #harrystylesfanfic #harrystylesfanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles mature #harrystylessmut #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles x reader #hs live #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harrystylesoneshot #harrystylesmsut #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #otra tour #ceo!harry #ceorry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry edward styles

[tiyoin]

pt.2 | 📍pt.3 | pt.4

im fighting my demons to go to my classes today, so I wrote some more

there was something so... paralyzing about going to class.

after what happened you couldn't budge going back. its been a week yes. but time didn't change emotional residue that stuck and clung to you whenever you thought about leaving the ramshackle.

backpack strapped to your person and hands clenching the straps, you were ready to go to school. yet with each passing second you stood at the door. quiet, contemplating.

you've been through so much worse than this! this is the easy stuff! just open that door, walk to class, sit, learn / day dream, and run back to ramshackle while you waited for your second class.

easy enough right?

wrong.

the splinters in the door didn't seem to move the harder you stared at it. the longer your eyes glazed over each discoloration of the wooden door. yet the more you looked at it the more the handled disappeared and the more wall-like it became.

you could do this. its not like you're going to die. right? "scratch that" you muttered, thinking about how this school has had a handful of overboots in the past few months. who knows if you accidentally trip and fall, having your pencil in the side of your backpack fly out and stab someone in the eye.

causing an overboot.

boom, instant death.

or! what if you got yourself a treat from the cafeteria today (lunch) and accidentally trip?? causing yourself to not only look like a fool in front of the entire school, but maybe you got your treat on one of the leeches!

instant death.

you let out an exasperated sigh. fuck. your hands that were once clutching the straps of your backpack were now rubbing against your eyes aggressively.

you wanted to cry. your mind relenting as your tear ducts sprung into action and steadily glided down your face.

why couldn't you do this one simple thing??

its literally so easy. just move your sorry butt and get to class. it's okay because yuu is there, grim is there....... okay, so yuu and grim are there-

your mind thought back to silver and kalim. ever since you interacted with the two your mind has been in limbos about whether you should call them your friends or not. I mean, should they even be on the podium for a poetical friendship?

what if they didn't want to be your friend? what if this was all some sort of elaborate school wide joke to make you look like a fool? like some kind of loser?

dropping your hands to your side, you started fanning yourself. the insidious thoughts swirling in your mind as they kept spiraling and spiraling. each thought was more outlandish than the last as you tried to breathe.

you had noticed your breathing pick up. trying everything in your power to control your emotions, yet it was useless. each self assured thought battled valiantly against each worry. yet Seth each good thought there were about 10 bad thoughts there to counter.

fuck.

why were you such a failure? its literally class. you dont even have to talk! just go there!

but that's exactly what spooked you enough to throw your bag on the floor. you couldn't be there with all those eyes on you.

with a defeated, angry huff you stormed to the dusty, stripped couch. tears long exchanged for angry growls and grumbles as you plopped yourself on it before standing up. you walked back and forth in front of the couch because you had to do something-anything. you needed to distract yourself from these thoughts.

yet the one thing you wanted to do was so out of reach for you, ... yet it was right there.

you were trapped in a glass house with nothing but your fear keeping the door closed.

"oi what's the the racket!"

you paused your pacing. 'when did I start pacing?' you thought to yourself for a moment. shrugging it off, you looked around to try and find the person who's voice that belonged to.

yet there was no one. no ghosts nor grim-

"what're you doing stand'n there like a chicken? dont'cha got class?" you followed the voice to the stairs. and low and behold was the magnificent grim. paws at his hips with a judge look, right before he yawned.

'cute' you thought with a deep breathe.

your fanning motions slowed down with each step grim descended. you didn't bother listening to his yapping as you walked closer to your furry companion.

"I uh..."

"couldn't do it?" he asked bluntly. your cheeks heated up as you nodded softly, a bit embarrassed that someone as... grim like, could point that out.

he sighs once he's at a step that's eye level with you. he pointed with a smirk "listen, I normally dont do this, but the great and powerful grim must show his henchmen some beevlence"

"benevolence" you corrected

grim rolled his eyes, giving you a deadpan expression "yeah, that's what I said"

you gave him a thin lipped 'uh huh' as he continued.

"so! I'll let you carry the great grim to class!'

'... this little shit is capitalizing on your anxiety to catch a free lift! that little asshole

but then again... free emotional support animal

but it's the principle-

yeah and we're going to be having another meeting with that bird-brain if we dont keep up attendance.'

you battled with yourself for a moment. weighing the pros and cons of using each other. grim would definitely not shut up about it when you're carrying him... but... free hugs.

"oi, why you making faces?"

"sorry, I just got lost in thought" you smiled sheepishly. taking a deep breath, you looked him in the eye. "okay, that works for me"

grim cheered before complaining how tried he was from gym yesterday. yet you faintly recall the feline scouting out a place under the bleachers to take a cat nap under.

yet you also recalled how Vargas found him (you and yuu snitched) and made him run 5 extra laps because of all the new engird he must have💪

you laughed to yourself at the memory. your mood slightly lighting as you shooed off another one of grim's questions.

bending down, grim clambered happily in your arms as you adjusted your hold on him. making your way back to your discarded book bag, you carefully bent down, making sure not to drop the... fat cat.

there was no way to say it nicely.

fluffy? soft? fun-sized?

slinging the bag on your back, you paused for a moment to adjust the straps and the cat in your hold. once were both situated and you were positive weren't going to move, you made your way to the door.

you tried focusing on grim. on his soft fur, random yapping, and even the warmth his ears protruded.

once you were back at your oaky wall, you took a deep breathe. the deepest oe you took all day. closing your eyes, you shot your hand towards the door and aggersivly opened it.

and to your surprise; there was no one there.

no dragon to smite you where you stood

no annoyingly obnoxious person waiting to point out your flaws,

no towering upper class-men ready to stare you down the moment you read on their radar

not even meteor.

there was nothing. and yet you still paused. still hesitated.

your eyes surveyed the courtyard in front of you, searching and scanning for anything besides from trees and distant buildings. anything besides the overgrown weeds and cracked cobblestone.

"oi c'mon, we'll be even later than the late bell! hurry it up!"

jolting at the interruption. you reached for the door before closing it. now you were trapped outside. grim hurried you again, starting to squirm in your arms in annoyance.

your mouth and feet work in unison as you kept your eyes locked on the gate.

"how would you describe yourself grim?"

and you know what, the walk wasn't as bad as you thought.

--

its a bit shorter than the rest (so far) but I had to build a bit to the next part.

#twisted anxiety 🌀 #tiyoin 🔎 #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #leona x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #vil x reader #Floyd Leech x reader #jade leech x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #malleus draconic x reader #kalim x reader #silver x reader #silver twisted wonderland #twst silver x reader

[pers1st]

afterglow - alexia putellas x reader

part 3 of dancing with the devil, painkillers

pairing: alexia putellas x singer!reader

warnings: mentions of OD

Keira was taken away first. Alexia noticed it as she marched across the damp pitch, a winter coat shielding her body from the cool wind, her body glistening with sweat. Barcelona had won, the way they always did, and Alexia, as the captain, had been the first to call the team into a circle afterwards, in order to listen to Jona's speech, which she knew wouldn't be long today, and thank the fans afterwards.

The chants and cheers had been relentless today. Alexia knew it was the right thing to walk towards them and spend time with them, thank them, but as she watched Lucy, who had spent the last twenty minutes on the sub bench, put her arms around Keira and softly guided her shaking ex-girlfriend away from the pitch, tears shining in her own eyes, Alexia's feet stopped moving. Her gaze followed the women until it couldn't, and they disappeared into the tunnel.

If Lucy cried, something bad had likely happened. If she told Keira, it likely involved you. Alexia's heart was racing at the realization, and she managed to take a total of three rushed steps before a body pulled her shoulders back. Fighting the force slightly as she wriggled in what she knew was her best friend's grip, Alexia's worry soon turned into anger.

"¡Suélta me!" (Let me go), Alexia whispered through clenched teeth, struggling to free her arms of Mapi's grip and follow Lucy and Keira to wherever they had disappeared to.

"No", Mapi sighed, and suddenly appeared on Alexia's side, only letting go of the shoulder closest to her. Ingrid suddenly stepped towards Alexia's other side. It seemed the woman had appeared out of thin air, but your ex-girlfriend didn't have the capacity to wonder where she'd come from, or why the two were escorting her into the tunnel and towards the nearest office. Ingrid peaked through the door and sighed a snip of relief at the realization that the room was empty.

"¿Que pasa?", (What happened?) Alexia asked, her voice softer this time as she realized that something had most definitely happened. And it most definitely involved you.

"It's about Y/N", Ingrid started, leading Alexia to sit in the chair across from the desk before turning the chair around softly, crouching down in front of Alexia. The captain couldn't see the darkness in Ingrid's eyes, or the way her shoulders slumped, or the fact that this whole setup meant very, very bad news.

"Did she call you? Did you hear from her? What did she- what did she say?", Alexia asked, hope suddenly glooming in her. Maybe you had reached out to Ingrid, maybe Keira had reached out to Ingrid, maybe you wanted her back, maybe you'd allow her back into your life, maybe the two of you-

"No, Ale", Mapi sighed, a soft touching finding her shoulder gently. Alexia looked up at the woman who stood in front of her, and only then did she see the tears in her best friend's eyes. Mapi didn't cry often. She was like Lucy in that sense.

"Ale, she-"

Ingrid struggled to find the words to describe. Alexia struggled to find the air to breathe.

"She overdosed. She's in the hospital- it's-", before Ingrid could finish her sentence, Alexia swatted her hand away from her knee.

"No. No, no, no-", she breathed, suddenly the room closing in on her. The walls came flying closer and she could do nothing but allow Ingrid and Mapi to stare at her. Tears spilled from her eyes quicker than she could stop them, but in all honesty, even trying would've been useless. The woman sitting in front of Mapi and Ingrid wasn't the stern faced, dedicated and composed captain of Barcelona and Spain anymore, the woman in front of them was a crying, broken woman. She hid her face in her hands to shield herself at least a little bit, but it was no use.

You had overdosed. You took drugs?! Had this started before the breakup, had she done this to you? Had you done this on purpose? Had you been broken enough to want to-

Had she done this to you?

She thought back to the livestream just a few hours ago. It seemed like an eternity now. It was clear as day now - the way you had wobbled on stage, the way you had been so devoid of emotion, the way everything had just seemed off with you - you had been high. Since when were you doing drugs?! How had she missed this?

It took Ingrid's hand to reach her knee again for the woman to realize she couldn't breathe anymore.

"Ale, please- you have to-"

Alexia couldn't hear the rest of her words, because the sob that left her mouth was one loud enough to, it seemed to her, shake the whole stadium.

Overdosed. Overdosed. Overdosed.

The sobs kept wrecking her frame, even as Ingrid gripped her knee harder in an attempt to steady her captain.

"Alexia", Mapi pleaded, her words barely above a whisper. Had Alexia not been so encapsulated in her own thoughts, in her own pain, she might've realized how odd it was for Mapi to get, she might've realized how close she was to having a panic attack.

But she didn't. She couldn't hear Ingrid begging for her to take a breath, couldn't hear the soothing words the both of them kept repeating over and over again.

All she could hear was your stupid voice and all the stupid songs you used to sing for her. Would she ever hear that voice again?

It was a known phenomenon that the first thing you forgot about a deceased person was their voice. Alexia hadn't heard your voice in over two weeks, at least not in real life - would she ever hear it again? Would she forget it, if you died?

The thought gripped every cell of her body, squeezing and squeezing until the air dispersed from her lungs, until the bile rose on her throat, until she became so lightheaded she had to remove her hand from her face to hold onto Ingrid's woman and steady herself because of how close she felt to passing out.

It was memories of you that spun her head. It was your laugh that she couldn't seem to drown out anymore, it was the way you'd said "I'm leaving, I'm so sorry", it was that night you'd showed up at her flat, ready for the tour of the city she had promised you over Instagram messages, it was that first time you'd ended up in her bed and every time afterwards, it was every hug you had given her when the pressure had been too much, it was every phone call, every facetime, it was you. Everything was you. Every last bit of her thought about you.

If it hadn't been for Ingrid and Mapi, she might've stayed in that ugly and bare office forever. After all, why should she move? With everything she'd been told, she'd never move on anyway. Why would she go back to the city you had fallen in love with, why should she go back to the apartment you'd shared with her, why should she go back to the bed you'd spent so many nights in?

Because Mapi and Ingrid said so, and because Alexia was too exhausted to complain. It was Ingrid who walked her back to the changing room once Mapi had checked it was empty, it was Ingrid who'd guided her into the shower gently, setting out fresh clothes and everything else Alexia needed.

In the end, it was Ingrid who took her clothes off at the realization that her teammate wouldn't move, even if Alexia tried. She'd asked for permission, and Alexia had nodded absentmindedly, something that would've been unimaginable just hours ago. Alexia never let anyone see her in a vulnerable state of any kind, but she was too tired. Too exhausted. That wasn't what made her cry in the shower though.

It was the memories of you.

The way Ingrid took off her clothes was entirely different to the way you had. There was nothing loving (not in that way, at least), about it. Ingrid didn't kiss every inch of her exposed skin, Ingrid didn't giggle the way you did as she removed Alexia's shirt, Ingrid didn't peck Alexia's lips at every chance she got, but the fact that the woman removing Alexia's clothes wasn't you was enough to send silent tears down her cheeks.

The captain didn't even have enough energy to sob for you. The realization only multiplied the tears.

In the end, Alexia didn't know how she had made it back to Barcelona, back to Ingrid and Mapi's spare room, and, in the end, back into the bed you'd once laid in.

Perhaps it was the statement your team had issued mere days after the overdose, stating that you were okay physically, stating that you would begin rehab soon, stating that you would take some private time to deal with all of the past events.

Perhaps it was the fact that you disappeared off the face of the earth for a year. Not a single post, or story to your socials. Not a single song. Not a single show. Not a single message. It was foolish to say that she managed to forget about you, because - let's be honest, it was you she was thinking about every morning she woke up, every match that she would glance into the family section and not find you next to her mother, every medal she didn't get to wear as you made love to her. She could never forget about you. And she hoped that you wouldn't forget about her either.

Still, shock couldn't describe the emotion she felt as a hand tapped her shoulder gently as she stood at the FIFA's best awards, conversing gently with Lucy.

"Hey, strangers."

She heard the words before she could turn around to see you, but she hadn't forgotten your voice. She could never forget your voice.

"Hey, you", Lucy smiled with her teeth as she pulled your body into a hug, so tight that your eyes almost came out of their sockets. Alexia smiled softly as you frowned in Lucy's arms, chuckling at your expressions.

This was the last place she had expected you to be. It was the last place anyone had expected you to be minus Keira, Lucy and their families. All of them were here tonight, and it made Alexia a little anxious to know you'd been here throughout the whole ceremony and she hadn't even noticed.

When Lucy let you go, you looked at Alexia with a slightly unsure expression. You had known she'd be here, but as Keira was finally nominated for the award for the first time, and not just the best XI, you had promised her you'd be there, even if it meant seeing Alexia again.

In all honesty, seeing Alexia again was part of the reason you'd come here, though you'd never admit it. Reaching out to her would've been foolish after everything you'd put her through, clenching complete radio silence for over a year. This was a nice occasion - one where she wouldn't think you'd come just to see her, but could still converse with you (hopefully), without the attention being on the two of you.

Before you could think about mumbling an excuse to leave the two women at Alexia's lack of a reaction to your presence, the woman pulled you into a hug. A hug that was even tighter as Lucy's, which you hadn't thought to be possible. But you didn't fight Alexia's arms around you. You could never fight her touch, could never resist the familiar smell of her perfume and the way her hair covered your nose as you buried your face in the crane of her neck.

"Lo siento", you whispered into her, just enough for her to hear and everyone else to miss, though Lucy did smirk at seeing how tightly the two of you were embraced.

"Not here", Alexia mumbled back and pulled herself out of your arms, smiling softly. Though you were disappointed, you couldn't help the smile of your own. Not here meant somewhere else. You'd get to talk to Alexia again. You'd get to explain, get to apologize. It was what you needed, whether she forgave you or not.

The time came a few hours later at the after party. You had, at this point, escaped all of the photographers, but apparently someone had caught you on the livestream and your phone was blowing up as your manager texted you, asking if you were okay. You were sat at a table with Keira and her family, the woman's head laying on your shoulder softly.

"Cat's out the bag", you smiled slightly as you placed the device back onto the table, not missing how Keira lifted her head to look at you. Your best friend was slightly tipsy, and very tired at this point. The fact that the Barcelona federation had allowed them to stay at the after party had been celebrated before the actual party had even begun, while you had caught up with Lucy's brother, in one of the backrooms where Keira and the rest had gotten ready. By the point she had joined you again, with Aitana on her heels and the rest of the Barcelona women following shortly after, she had caught you in another bone crushing hug, whining about how happy she was you were there.

"Are you okay with it?", she asked softly, analyzing your facial expression as best as she could in her state. You took a sip of your water. It was actual water.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's gonna get even better."

Your album was scheduled to drop tomorrow. No promo, no announcements, no nothing. Just music. Just the most raw and honest music you'd ever written.

"Nervous?", Keira asked, just when Aitana came towards her again. You shook your head.

"¡Ven a bailar conmigo!", the woman shrieked, just as tipsy as Keira was, gripping her hands and pulling her up.

"Go", you smiled. "I'll be fine."

And fine, you were. You loved Keira's parents almost as much as you loved your own, and talking to them was easy, especially when all they could do was gloat about their daughter. However, there was another conversation on your mind. One that wouldn't be as easy. As if she had read your mind, a body appeared behind you, her hands laying softly on your shoulders. Alexia had always been touchy. She had argued that every Spaniard was this way, but when you'd asked whether it was just a Spanish thing and she was touchy with everyone, she had shut up about it quickly, accepting every teasing comment you made about her clinginess.

"Can I steal her for a second?", Alexia asked with her silly Spanish accent, the one that you loved so much. When you looked up at her, her green eyes shone a little.

"Of course, dear. Go on, we'll wait right here!", Keira's mother beamed at the two of you, but her quick words and accent were too much for Alexia to understand, so you nodded up at her instead, quickly lifting yourself from your seat.

Alexia's hand found yours quickly, not caring about all of the footballers, reporters and people in general who were eyeing the movement curiously, as she gently led you through the crowd and towards the hall you'd met Keira in earlier.

She pulled you into a corridor, the warmth of her hand transcending into your stomach as she nudged the second door open. There wasn't much in the room - a vanity, a clothing rack which held various suits and dresses, and an armchair.

Alexia glanced through the room quietly, and you knew she was scanning for a place for the two of you to sit on comfortably as you talked. You knew this because you wondered the same thing. The armchair was spacious, but it was made for one person only. The vanity had one seat, but one seat only.

This time, it was you who held onto her hand, gently pulling her to the floor with you. You lay on your back next to your ex-girlfriend in a similar position, glancing at the ceiling.

"Quiero mirarte." (I want to look at you)

Her voice was barely above a whisper but you heard it anyways, turning to your side to face Alexia, who once again mirrored your actions. With your head cradled on your arm, you glanced at her. Taking every feature of her in, recognizing every dimple, every freckle, the birthmark above her lips. She didn't look older, despite the year the two of you had spent apart.

"Lo siento, Alexia", you whispered.

She nodded. "You should be."

"I'm sorry for just- disappearing. I really am."

"Why didn't you just to tell me?", her voice sounded so fragile, so small, that you suck in a breath.

"Why did you not trust me? I could've-"

"Stop, Ale. Please, let me explain", you pleaded, taking another deep breath as she nodded softly.

"I should've told you, yes. But it wouldn't have done anything for either of us. I was under so much pressure with the tour and everything, and I just-", you paused for a second.

"It wouldn't have changed anything. I wouldn't have let you be there for me, I couldn't. I wasn't ready to be sober, Ale. I'm sad that it took an overdose to realize it, but the good thing is I realized it. And I'm sorry, for everything I put you through. I'm really sorry, please, forgive me."

You didn't think you would beg, but one look at Alexia was enough to completely spin her mind. You would've done everything for her to forgive you. Begging was one of the things on an endless list for her to say it was okay.

The next thing she said, however, had been completely unimaginable for you.

"Yo también lo siento." (I'm sorry too.)

What could she possibly be sorry for?

You had left her without an explanation, after years of loving her, after she had given you reason after reason to spend the rest of your life with her. Then you had almost killed yourself. Then you had completely vanished for a year. And she was apologizing?!

"No, Ale-"

"Sí. I'm sorry. I should've been there, should've realized, I should've reached out and-"

"No." This time, your words held more firmity and less shock. This time, she remained silent, her eyebrows furrowing.

"You couldn't have known, Alexia. I didn't let you be there. I didn't let you reach out. There was nothing you could've done. You did enough- every day for the past year I thought of you and how to make up for this- how to get you to forgive me."

"I have already forgiven you, amor."

You sucked in a breath at the nickname. Then-

"Come home with me."

You couldn't help the shocked laugh that escaped your lips, and you couldn't miss how it made her smile again- those dimples would be the death of you one day.

"You should ask me on a date first."

"Disparates, we didn't do that last time either", (Nonsense) she chuckled, reminding you of the first time you'd ended up in her bed, the first day you'd met her.

"I don't want to do it the way we did last time."

Alexia nodded.

"Okay. But you come home with me. Because I know that you wrote songs about this, and I want you to sing them for me", she smiled, reaching her hand out for you as she turned onto her back, softly pulling you towards her. Your head found her chest immediately as your breaths synchronized the way they always had. In all honesty, sometimes, during the past year, you'd wondered if your lungs worked at a similar pace the way they always had when you'd lay like this.

"I don't have a guitar at your place", you mumbled as Alexia began playing with your hair.

"Sí, you do. You forgot one. The one you bought me to learn", she whispered into her hand that was running through strands of your blonde.

"Did you?"

Your head shook as Alexia laughed, holding you even tighter.

"I tried, but I was- fallido", (unsuccessful) she breathed.

"La reina? Fallido? Increíble", (unbelievable) you answered, chuckling softly. You remembered the first day you'd tried Alexia to play the guitar like it was yesterday, and the awful combination of what you couldn't describe as chords that had echoed through the room and had left both of your expressions frowning.

You had bought her her own, mostly because you were scared she'd somehow break yours.

You would go back to Barcelona with Alexia tomorrow. You would go with her anywhere. You would do anything she asked you to.

"We should probably go back, Keira will be looking for me", you sighed, feeling more content than you had in a long time here, in this shabby room, laying in Alexia's arms with her hands in your hair.

"Sí."

You waited for her to get up, to push you away softly and take your hand in hers again.

"Five more minutes", she hummed. You couldn't resist Alexia. You could never resist Alexia.

notes: final paaaaart! what do you think? this was a pain to write tbh but i'm happy with the way it turned out! there'll be probably be some more blurbs about the two of them just because i rly like this "series"

also, thank you so so much for all of the support! genuinely incredible

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #womens football #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #barca x reader #barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #Spotify

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (24)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After Alys' words and her warning, she ran out of the fortress feeling her heart pounding fast, a cold sweat on the back of her neck − it occurred to her that every servant she passed could be someone who would end her and her husband's lives.

Do not return here.

Look after yourself.

Trust no one.

As she left the walls of Harrenhal she noticed Larys Strong standing at a safe distance from her dragoness, propping himself up on his staff, a smile on his face that was sure meant to seem heartfelt and comforting.

"Your Grace. I wanted to say a proper farewell to you and your husband." He said in a calm, gentle voice, which, however, only made her more uncomfortable. She looked over her shoulder as she heard someone's footsteps and was relieved to see the figure of her husband walking towards her through the gates of the stronghold.

For a moment she felt wonderfully relieved to see him, but then she noticed the expression on his face, how pale he was, his gaze blank, his lips tightened, his gaze directed towards the Lord of Harrenhal.

"− Aemond − I must −" She muttered, grabbing his arm, wanting to speak to him before they flew away, wanting to pass on to him what she had heard from Alys.

"− not now − we are leaving immediately − my Lord −" He said in a cold, matter-of-fact tone that sent shivers through her.

She knew something had happened, something that frightened and angered him, but she didn't know for what reason − his silhouette did not even stop at her words, his eyes did not even bestow a single glance on her.

He was afraid.

Had Alys warned him too?

Was that why he wanted to leave Harrenhal as soon as possible?

Somehow comforted by this thought, she nodded in front of Larys Strong, heading immediately towards Larax, who was watching them vigilantly from afar, anxious and tense. She climbed up onto her saddle and, not wanting to stay there a moment longer, had her head high into the sky.

It wasn't until the wind blew her hair tied up in a braid and she sunk between the clouds that she felt relieved, the grim silhouette of the walls and fortress of Harrenhal fading away until it finally disappeared completely into the distance over her shoulder.

She swallowed hard as she caught sight of the mighty figure of Vhagar soaring upwards in the distance, higher and higher, approaching them like a giant, dark, flying mountain.

As she flew over them Larax was much calmer than the first time, having been used to her scent and presence after travelling for hours the day before.

Even though she was about to see her mother for the first time in months, even though she was flying towards hope she felt terrified, her throat squeezed in anxiety, for some reason a cold sweat ran down the back of her neck.

I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown.

I saw red flooding everything around me.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of Helaena saying something similar to her then, after she wanted to take her own life.

From the mingled blood will emerge a dragon’s crown.

She wasn't sure what this words might have meant.

Who was this prophecy referring to? Was it about someone's birth, or perhaps someone's death? Her marriage to her uncle? Was something about to happen that would change everything?

It terrified her that so much depended on whether she could convince her mother that war might be avoided.

Their journey to the Eyrie was far shorter and more pleasant than the one from King's Landing to Harrenhal, the sun shining high above their heads. She, unlike her husband, who had to fly high over the peaks, could dash on Larax between the crevices of the mountains.

When she finally caught sight of her grandmother's ancestral stronghold in the distance she felt heat filling her chest, a premonition that what they were about to do would change everything.

She landed at the bottom of the valley among the fields, knowing that they both had a way to walk to the top anyway. Vhagar took a moment to take her place right next to Larax, her large paws hitting the ground, causing dust and ashes to rise all around them.

She moved towards her husband as soon as she saw him slip down the ropes from her back to the ground, ordering loudly for Vhagar to stay calmly in place.

"− uncle −"

"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said suddenly, looking at her at last, his gaze dark, grim, sharp, weary. She blinked quickly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, and shook her head in disbelief at what he was suggesting.

"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, moving behind him as soon as he began to walk ahead, towards the trail that led them up the hill to the fortress itself.

He avoided her gaze, for some reason he couldn't look her in the face.

Why?

"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He said in a tone from which she felt rage and discomfort − she stepped in front of him and smacked his chest with her palms to stop him. He actually stood in a half-step, looking at her with furrowed brows, furious, his jaw clenched.

"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with anger and disbelief that he dared to suggest that they would lie to her family and destroy everything they had managed to build up to that point.

What was happening to him?

She saw that he swallowed hard at her words, as if something in what she had said had made him snap, his face even paler than when they had flown away from Harrenhal.

"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He muttered wearily, as if he could barely get anything out of himself. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what she should answer him.

What if her prediction frightened him even more?

What if it makes him change his mind at the last moment, make him say they were returning to King's Landing immediately?

She thought, horrified, that she could reveal to him only part of the truth.

"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She mumbled, looking at him uncertainly; she saw that something had changed in his expression, his lips had pressed together in a thin line, his eyes had glazed over.

Wanting to soften her words and the tension that reigned between them she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, stroking them reassuringly with her palms, looking straight into his empty, dark eye.

That look frightened her, but she knew, she felt, that he needed her now − something in him was screaming that he was dying inside, but she didn't understand what was the cause of it.

"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She mumbled pleadingly, feeling for some reason tears under her eyelids, some strange conviction that he was distancing himself from her, when just at night his lips, his hands caressed her so wonderfully, so tenderly.

He looked at her as if hesitating, his lower lip trembling slightly, his nostrils twitching in uneven, accelerated breathing. His gaze softened as she took his face in her hands, his eyelids closed as her thumbs began to stroke his wind-cold cheeks.

"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −"

"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked lowly and his eye opened; she saw something unsettling in his gaze, some glint that told her he was distrustful again, that he was hesitant again.

Why?

How could he doubt her after all this time?

"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"

She asked in a trembling, breaking voice, angry and disappointed that although she had proved to him so many times the sincerity of her feelings, he still demanded more from her.

But what had he given her in return?

How had he proved that she could trust him?

Their nuptials had been an expression of his love and desire, but she had never heard from his lips what he himself had planned and whether he stood by the words of the letter he had written to her before he flew away to Storm's End.

She saw that his eyebrows arched in pain, his eyes turned red and glassy, his body tensed all over as if he was trying to fight what he felt because of her.

He looked at her as if some part of him was wishing he could see the shadow of a lie in her eyes, his face expressing the enormity of some kind of weariness and helplessness from which she felt her heart squeeze.

She drew in a loud breath as his large hand rose to the height of her face, as his fingers took the unruly strands of her hair from her face, his thumb running over her cheek down the side of her jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked in a whisper, exactly as she had then, that day − she knew he felt something intense at her words, she could see it in the way he took in a breath, in his gaze that grew soft and hot, in his lips that parted in some subconscious reflex, betraying his desire.

Their lips clung to each other as soon as he leaned in, his hum of satisfaction echoing in her throat as she threw her hands around his neck, his arms embracing her waist. She pulled away from him with a quiet, soft click, combing her fingers through his soft, long hair, feeling her lower abdomen squeeze as the words he'd also said that day burst involuntarily from his lips.

"One more time."

This time her kiss was more greedy and wet, her lips pressed into his, parted invitingly, the tips of their tongues licking each other lazily making them both breathless. She felt something warm against her cheek and only after a moment, again and again sinking into the softness of his lips did she realise it was his tears.

He was crying.

"I love you." He whispered between one kiss and the next, stroking her hair and back with his wide, rough hands. "I've always loved you."

Something in the way he said it, in his trembling, broken voice, in the depth with which those words left her throat, and the fact that he had referred to her confession just after their first nuptials made her let herself weep quietly as well.

She didn't believe she would ever hear it from his lips and she had come to terms with it.

That was just the way he was.

So how scared must he have been, what was happening in the depths of his heart that such a confession had left his mouth?

"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled pleadingly, holding his face in her hands. She heard something between a moan and a sigh leave his throat, his forehead pressed against hers.

He gave in.

"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He whispered in a helpless, low, trembling voice, and she felt his question and the way he said it deep in her heart, which clenched all over. Even so, she smiled, her fingertips running over his skin.

"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She said softly, warmly, her words like a sigh. She felt his fingers tighten on the material of her leather coat, his hot, uneven breath framing her face.

"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out before his lips clung to hers in a deep, hot, sticky kiss filled with so many feelings that she felt her voice get stuck in her throat.

He had made a decision, whatever it might be, and her heart hoped that he had decided to trust her and follow her.

Wherever she would lead him.

They moved ahead, heading towards the fortress they could see in the distance − she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he threw her a surprised look when he felt her small hand slip into his, tightening on his fingers.

He pressed his lips together as he looked at her, squeezing her fingers in his before he let her go, not wanting any guard to see it.

They walked the path to the top of the mountain side by side in silence, escorted by the eyes of the guards standing over their heads. Only when they reached the fortress gate itself did one of them, presumably their commander, address them.

"Who comes here and with what matter?"

"Prince Aemond and his wife are coming to meet Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanyra." Her husband replied coldly; it did not escape her or the man standing on the walls above them that he had not called her Queen.

Only when she looked into the distance did she see the silhouettes of two dragons, blood red and gold, shimmering in the sunlight.

They had arrived.

Her mother and her stepfather were indeed ready to listen to them.

After a while, the gates of the stronghold opened before them, and they were led inside; she had only been in the Eyrie once before, in the company of her mother, and even then the place had made a great impression on her.

Unlike the Red Keep, the Eyrie was a stronghold built of mountain stones, making the fortress inside seem much cooler and more spacious, the windows in the walls much smaller, created for defensive purposes so that archers could not take them as their target.

The Eyrie was a defensive stronghold almost impossible to conquer even with dragons − its lords could defend themselves in it for months, hiding from the flames deep in the underground of the mountain with larders filled with supplies.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the figure of a man she recognised with difficulty, and at the sight of whom her husband stopped, furious, refusing to take any further step towards him.

The grandson of Lord Rodrik Arryn, the father of her grandmother, Aemma, Ronnel Arryn, heir of the Eyrie appeared before them in an ornate blue tunic reaching his knees, despite the smile on his lips, a coldness shone from his eyes.

She thought with pain that she barely remembered him as a child. He was weepy and angry whenever he lost when they played, so she and her brothers had to let him win once in a while to calm him down.

As then, he had light, curly hair, although as a child he had been slightly plump now he had grown, clearly choosing an attire that best emphasised his muscles.

Her would-be betrothed.

She saw the way her cousin looked at her uncle, the corner of his mouth lifting in a mocking smirk when he finally glanced at his black eye patch.

"My Prince. My dear cousin. My aunt and her husband are already waiting for you." He said in a soft, low tone, pointing with his hand in the direction they were supposed to go. She nodded, smiling warmly, feeling the enormity of the awkwardness of this meeting – she heard her husband move behind her, tense, not taking his eyes off him.

Ronnel led them to one of the chambers, which was apparently used for council. When he opened the door the first thing that caught her eye was a huge circular table, behind which stretched an entrance to the balcony, the entire room shaped like an ellipse.

An involuntary sigh left her lips when she saw her mother, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, looking at her and only her, her father's crown of pure gold on her head.

"My child." Mumbled her mother, her Queen, walking towards her, and she immediately ran to meet her, falling into her arms. She tightened her fingers on her back, feeling her familiar, wonderful scent, the smell of home and safety, of everything that was so close to her, and that she had lost and thought she would never regain again.

Her mother let go of her and took her hands in hers, uncovering her wrists, her thumbs began to stroke and trail over her scars, evidence of what she was trying to do.

"My only daughter." She muttered with regret and pain as she looked at the pale lines on her skin, clearly imagining what she must have felt when she undertook this desperate act.

"I'm well, mother. My Queen." She muttered and bowed to her, reminding herself of who she was, stiffly not bowing to Aegon or using the titles he believed were due to him as King.

However, he never punished her for this.

She remembered then with a rapidly pounding heart about her husband and turned over her shoulder – her uncle and father looked at each other from afar, standing on either side of the room, Daemon grinning in a way that was disturbing to say the least.

He was mocking him, wanting to provoke him, she knew that.

"I would like to express my gratitude to you for being willing to listen to us. I know the suffering and humiliation all this has caused you. I pray every night that the gods will welcome my prematurely deceased sister into the heavens." She said in a voice trembling with emotion, her mother swallowed hard, lifting her chin high, wanting to maintain her dignity and not lose her temper. She nodded, showing her that she accepted her condolences and the apology in her heart.

"Let's sit down." She said calmly and took her seat at the table first, she sat on the other side, however neither Daemon nor her uncle moved from their places.

They both had their daggers and swords at their belts, ready for whatever the conversation might bring.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to remain solemn and calm, glancing at her half-brother then at her. She placed her hands in front of her on the table top, in an involuntary reflex playing with the ring on her middle finger that she had inherited from her mother.

"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." She confessed in a trembling voice filled with grief, fatigue and the humiliation she had carried on her shoulders since that ill-fated supper.

She glanced over her shoulder at her uncle-husband, who was looking at her expectantly. She swallowed loudly at the thought of him not even uttering a word.

He was letting her speak.

He had decided to trust her.

She turned back to her mother and drew in a loud breath, gathering her courage.

"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my husband about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She fell silent as she saw her Queen turn to Daemon, clearly shocked by something she had heard, her father looking at her with his lips clenched.

They knew something.

"Mother?" She muttered uncertainly. Rheanyra gave her a quick, uncertain look, her chest rising and falling in accelerated, heavy breathing.

"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said with certainty and thrill, as if something had suddenly become obvious to her.

"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" She heard her husband's angry, frustrated voice behind her. She turned to him, looking at him pleadingly, but his black gaze was fixed on his sister.

Rhaenyra drew in a breath and twisted restlessly in her seat, Daemon standing at her side shifted from foot to foot, frowning an eyebrow at the sound of his tone.

"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen."

"She is not my Queen." Her uncle hissed, looking at Daemon with a look as if completely overwhelmed by madness, her heart starting to pound like mad as her father's hand went to the hilt of his Dark Sister.

"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." She said quickly, her mother throwing her an anxious, chastising look, as if she were looking at a small child.

"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" She asked in an embittered, trembling voice. She swallowed hard, feeling she had to do it.

She had to force them to agree.

"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?" She asked drily, looking at her mother and then the father – their faces expressed shock and horror that she dared to say it out loud, her husband stirred behind her back, anxious.

"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth is, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."

"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon acknowledged you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, recognised you as his child in the eyes of the Kingdom." Her mother muttered with a voice full of disappointment, anger and regret from which her heart squeezed.

"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?"

She asked, tired and terrified at the turn this conversation had taken, the things that were leaving her lungs, but she realised at last that everything she had said was true.

"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.

However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."

Rhaenyra looked at her with her lips clenched, pale, tears of pain, grief and despair in her eyes, for here was her own daughter trying to say to her that she should give up her inheritance, something she was entitled to by all rights, something she had been preparing for all her life.

She glanced over her shoulder at Daemon, who was looking at her impassively, frustrated – she knew that gaze and she knew he was furious, but he did not speak, making it clear to her that the final decision was hers alone.

This was her crown.

Her throne.

And he, as always, stood faithfully by her side.

Her mother swallowed hard, turning towards her, fiddling with the fingers of her hands, clearly nervous.

"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.

Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."

She looked at her mother in disbelief feeling her heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down her back.

I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

She wanted her to be not her husband's queen, but another independent ruler at his side.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she turned over her shoulder to look at her husband's face – his healthy eye was open wide in shock, his figure all tense. She saw him swallow hard, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and then he nodded uncertainly and slowly.

He agreed.

She looked again at her mother, who was looking at her brother with her lips tightened – a quiet sigh of relief left her lips when she saw her Queen also nod.

"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same."

She said in a breaking voice, from which she felt a squeeze in her heart, a grief at the thought that her mother, her Queen, for her and her family's sake, had to give up what was rightfully hers, what she had dreamed of all her life.

In her eyes, it testified to her greatness, to her maturity, to her loyalty to the affairs of the Realm.

She would make a fine Queen, she thought with regret.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to calm herself, and straightened up in her seat.

"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my only daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly, glancing at her brother.

She wanted to respond already, knowing full well that her uncle had no intention of remaining in this place for a moment longer, however, he was the first to speak, startling her.

"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."

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[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Four ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Four Warnings: slight profanity Masterlist is here.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter Four]

You hadn’t been keeping track of the time. 

Say, a couple years ago, you never would’ve considered the possibility that you could end up in a room full of rubber ducks. In Hell. With Lucifer Morningstar. Or, what sort of situation could lead you into it.

But you supposed that life was full of surprises. 

You ran your finger along the side of the head of a random rubber duck you had decided to pick up. You heard a small gasp, and a hand shot out to snatch it out of your hands. 

“Careful,” Lucifer gasped. You stared at him blankly. 

“You don’t know what they can do…” he said sheepishly. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure.” 

He smiled at you. You crossed your legs, staring down at him in his chair from your perch on the table. “So, is this what you do with your highly important, influential, immortal existence? Create an army of rubber ducks?” You teased lightly. He tipped his head back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. 

“Maybe.”

You tilted your head, and your eyes drifted over to a painting on the wall. Standing up, you walked over, feeling golden eyes train into your back. You pointed at it, turning to face him. “Who are they?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard- he just stared at you as if you had threatened to strangle him. You furrowed your brows in concern. “What?”

 He cleared his throat. “Nothing. That’s my daughter and my… ex wife.”

“Oh,” you managed to utter, feeling a strange mix of regret and guilt burrowing it’s way into your chest. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-“

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “Ask away.”

“Are you sure?” The reply was a simple nod.

Curiosity killed the cat. You winced, trying to banish Sera’s voice from your head.

“Her name is Lilith, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

You shifted from foot to foot. “What’s your daughter's name?”

“Charlie- Charlotte.” 

You returned to where you originally were. “I take it she doesn’t live with you in this huge, erm, house?” 

Lucifer smiled wryly. “No, she… she’s off doing, uh…”

“You don’t know, do you?” You sighed. He shook his head. “It’s alright. Do you two not talk?” He shook his head, again. 

You dragged over a chair to sit next to him, and reached out for his hand. He didn’t shy away from your touch as you intertwined your fingers. The cold metal of a ring- you glanced down- his wedding ring, pressed against your skin. 

The air slowly filled with a thick silence, until he broke it.

“She left to chase whatever dreams she had a while after Lilith left.” His next words were bitter. “She just left- Lilith, I mean. Just disappeared.”

You glanced at him, and he laughed. “But whatever. It’s been years. She’s clearly not coming back. I’ll just have to move on.” 

“You’re clearly not trying,” you pointed out, tapping a finger against the thick gold band. He sighed, then looked up at you suddenly. 

“What?”

“I’ll take it off.”

“Seriously? I didn’t mean-“

“No, you’re right.” He stood up and went over to a drawer in the corner. You watched as he pulled the ring off his hand and dropped it in one of them, then locked it with a key sitting on the top. “Catch.”

You caught the key as it came flying through the air towards you. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Keep it. Or toss it, I don’t care.”

You buried it in the depths of your satchel. “Fine,” you muttered. You could see his pleased smile in your peripheral. 

♱♱♱

“Fuck! [name]!”

You yelped as you fell into a giant pile of rubber ducks. The smell of- well, rubber- attacked your senses, almost suffocating. You gasped, emerging in a flurry of rolling yellow ducks to see Lucifer standing over you, stifling his laughter. 

“Do you not have, like, places to keep these…” you gestured agitatedly at the colony of artificial creatures surrounding you. “Specimens?”

“They’re ducks.”

“I know they’re ducks.”

He grinned as he offered his hand towards you. 

A scream sounded out outside. Two black shapes zipped across the red sky, the scene framed by the window you were staring out of. It was behind Lucifer, framing his silhouette as he turned around to glance outside. The scream had dissolved and the shapes had disappeared. Lucifer glanced back at you.

You stared at him and gulped, frazzled.

“Are you sure your… friends aren’t looking for you?” You took his arm and he pulled you up. But didn’t let go. 

“I hope not.”

Lucifer stared at your face, intensely, as if he was trying to memorise it. You flushed and turned away. “Maybe it was a bad choice you made, seeing me.”

You laughed nervously. “It’ll be fine. Plus, you hardly left me with much of a choice.”

He smiled, and his eyes seemed to glitter in the dim light. “We all have choices, angel.”

It knocked the breath right out of you. 

You stared at him, then turned away again. “Sure, whatever.”

You heard his low chuckle behind your back as you walked away. 

♱♱♱

The pentagram would be closing soon. 

You grappled with the window, until Lucifer sighed and pushed you to the side, gently, opening it up for you. It swung open soundlessly as you clambered onto the windowsill, wings poised for flight. 

“Angel, wait.”

You stared at him as something closed around your wrist. You looked down. A bracelet. “Huh?”

He held up his own wrist. The bracelet on it was identical to yours. “First thing I’ve made since a rubber duck.”

“…a bracelet.”

He held his finger up to your lips to silence you. You flushed. “Not just any bracelet,” he said, the pride evident in his voice. “It’s for communication. And you’re the perfect person to help me test it out over long distances. You press the stone on the front, and mine will buzz and light up. Vice versa.” 

“We are worlds apart.” The sentence seemed to strike a strange feeling in you, one of melancholy. Lucifer, however, seemed unfazed.

You knew that, deep down, you’d give in anyways. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

♱♱♱

The morning light filtered through the window and onto your bed as you emptied out your satchel. Your notebook and pen dropped onto the covers soundlessly. The apple bounced off the corner of the frame, rolling across your rug. 

As you leaned down to pick it up, you heard something else clatter onto the floor.

You turned and stared at the ground where it lay, next to your foot.

The key, glinting in the pale light.

You kicked it under your bed. It spun away into the shadows with a final flash.

You sighed, shoulders relaxing, and sat onto the bed, leaning over your arm, staring at the bracelet. The stone in the middle was flat, in the shape of an apple, and a 

metal snake coiled around the band of the bracelet. Pretty. 

You pressed the stone. Buzz.

It lit up as you touched it. A few seconds ticked by. 

Buzz. 

You flinched as it lit up and vibrated, by itself too, then let out a deep breath. He was on the other side. It worked. 

Knock knock knock. 

You stiffened.

The knocking started up again, more relentless this time. You scrambled forward, quickly picking your way across your living room and opening the door.

“Lute?”

She smiled thinly, crossing her arms and glaring at you. The look on her face made your heart sink down to your shoes and dribble out in a puddle onto the floor. You gulped.

“[name],” she said coldly. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

Taglist: @boredlime, @ica1, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter, @lucky-flowey,@kitty-kei, @thornwolfy235, @w31rd3rg1rl, @marxo5, @lvstyangel, @brainz00, @lukerycyja-reblogs, @dickmastersworld,@everlastprime259-blog, @rain-doll401-blog, @bakugounuggets, @ren-ren23, @mjhehe09,@angelicwillows

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[pucksandpower]

Gilded Cage

Charles Leclerc x heiress!Reader

Summary: when a girl who craves for freedom meets a boy who knows what it feels like to race at the speed of light

Warnings: overprotective (but loving) father

The first time you tried to escape, you were seven.

“Y/N, let go of the bird!” The nanny’s frantic voice echoed as your small fingers clutched the delicate cage, trying to unlatch it.

“I just want to see it fly!” You cried, tears streaming down your face, looking at the trapped canary. Its golden feathers seemed dulled, its tiny beak opened in a silent plea for freedom.

The cage slipped from your grasp, crashing onto the pristine marble floors. The sound was deafening in the otherwise quiet mansion. Your nanny rushed forward but not before the canary took off, its wings catching the sun, radiating a blinding brightness.

You watched, mesmerized, as the bird soared above, circling once before disappearing into the vast blue sky.

“It’s gone …” your nanny muttered, distraught at the loss of such a valuable creature.

But you, young and innocent, whispered with a smile of pure joy, “It’s free.”

From that day on, you knew one thing for certain: no amount of gold or jewels could substitute for the glitter of freedom.

***

“Again!”

The shout echoes through the cavernous halls of your palatial home. Somewhere outside, the splashing of the water from the elaborate marble fountain merges with the faint humming of gardeners trimming the intricate mazes. The walls, lined with gold-trimmed tapestries and priceless paintings, feel more like prison bars than luxuries.

"Again!"

Your fingers, stiff and aching, try to mimic the piano instructor’s exact movements. Every wrong note feels like a physical blow, another reminder that you are trapped in a world of perfection and expectations.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” you whisper but it came out stronger, more defiant than you intended.

Madame Lucille, your instructor, raises an eyebrow, unaccustomed to your resistance. “Your father wishes you to be well-versed in the classics,” she reminds you with a patronizing tone.

A voice, deep and commanding, interrupts the tension, “Let her be, Lucille.”

Your father stands at the doorway, his expensive suit impeccably tailored, matching the stern look on his face.

“But Sir, she—”

“I said, let her be.”

Madame Lucille gives you one last disapproving glare before hurriedly packing her things. Your father watches her go then turnes to you with softer eyes. “I just want the best for you,” he murmurs, walking over to sit beside you on the grand piano bench.

You take a deep breath, “I know, Papa. But I want to breathe, to live. Not just exist inside these walls.”

He sighs, looking tired. “The world out there isn’t a nice one. There are those who would want to harm you, to use you.”

“I would risk it,” you admit quietly, “For a taste of real life. For a moment outside this golden cage.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re my everything. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

The weight of his love and the prison of his protection bears down on you. “One day, whether you like it or not, I’ll have to face the world. And when that day comes, I want to be ready.”

He leans back, looking up at the ornate chandelier. “What if that day was sooner than you thought?”

Confusion marrs your features. “What do you mean?”

He smiles cryptically, “There’s a Formula 1 race across the country next week. I sponsor Ferrari. Thought you might like to come with me, see something different for a change.”

You blink, taking a moment to process. “A ... race?”

He nods, “Yes. It’s not freedom but it’s a start.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a glimmer of understanding. “Okay,” you whisper, “Let’s start there.”

***

“The roar of the engines, the energy of the crowd ... there’s quite nothing like it,” your father begins, his usually stern voice tinted with boyish enthusiasm. You find yourself watching him, intrigued by this rare display of passion.

Sitting across the opulent dining table, which was rarely used to host anyone but the two of you, you play with your food, pushing it around the plate. “Cars going in circles? I don’t see the appeal.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his vintage wine. “Oh, it’s much more than that. The strategy, the risk, the sheer speed ... it’s ballet at 300 kilometers per hour.”

You raise an eyebrow, interest piqued despite yourself. “Ballet? Really?”

He nods with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious now?”

You hesitate. “I mean, maybe a little? But why the sudden interest in taking me? I’ve never even seen you watch a race.”

He leans forward, his gaze intense, searching yours. “I sponsor Ferrari and have an open invite to every race. Now that one will be hosted nearby, I thought maybe it’s time you see a bit more of the world. Not just through the glass windows.”

You blink in surprise. This was unexpected. “A public event? With crowds and other people?”

He nods slowly. “With crowds and other people.”

You weigh the options in your mind, the yearning for freedom battling with the anxiety of exposure. “And you think I’m ready for this?”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours. “I think we’re ready for this. It will be an unforgettable experience, I promise.”

You look into his eyes and realize that this is as much a leap for him as it is for you. Taking a deep breath, you reply, “Alright, Papa. Let’s go watch some ballet.”

***

“The red ... it’s everywhere.” You can’t help but blurt out, momentarily overwhelmed.

Your father chuckles beside you. “Well, it is Ferrari. Red is their signature.”

You gaze down, the red soles of your Louboutins now seem almost camouflaged against the vibrant Ferrari decor. “Feels like I’m stepping into another world.”

“Just stay close,” your father advises, his protective instincts rearing up again.

Promising him with a nod, you’re soon lost in the kaleidoscope of sounds and colors. The hustle of engineers, the chatter of excited fans, the roar of engines being worked on.

Suddenly, a man clad in a racing suit accidentally bumps into you, causing your drink to splatter.

“Mon dieu! I am so sorry!” He exclaims, eyes wide.

You find yourself staring not at the stained dress but into the most expressive eyes you’ve ever seen. “It’s ... it’s okay,” you stutter, taken aback by the unexpected jolt of electricity at the brief contact.

He looks genuinely apologetic. “Let me make it up to you? Another drink, perhaps?”

You laugh, “Only if you promise not to spill it.”

He grins, the smile reaching his eyes. “Deal. I’m Charles, by the way.”

Hesitating for a split second, you reply, “Y/N.”

He raises an eyebrow, “No last name?”

You smirk, “Not today.”

Charles chuckles, intrigued. “Alright, Y/N-with-no-last-name, let’s get you that drink.”

You follow him, weaving through the crowd. Every now and then, someone stops Charles to shake his hand or pat him on the back, throwing in a “Good luck, Charles!” or “Can’t wait to see you on the track!” He greets everyone with a genuine smile and a word of thanks. It’s clear just how loved he is here.

However, you remain a mystery to him. He sneaks curious glances your way, the playful teasing evident in his eyes. “So are you a big Ferrari fan or just here because you look particularly fetching in red?”

You laugh, the sound more carefree than you’ve felt in ages. “Let’s just say I’m here to explore something ... different.”

Charles nods, handing you a fresh glass from the bar. The bubbling champagne mirrors the effervescence you feel inside. “Different can be good,” he muses, taking a sip from his own plastic water bottle. “Sometimes it’s the unexpected moments that change everything.”

The weight of his gaze, the intensity of the moment, makes your heart race. “Tell me, Charles,” you begin, leaning in slightly, “What was the unexpected moment that changed everything for you?”

He looks taken aback, clearly not expecting such a question. He takes a thoughtful pause, “Every time I get behind the wheel. Each race is a new story, an unexpected twist waiting to happen.”

You nod, appreciating his sincerity. “It’s brave, you know. Facing the unexpected at such high speeds.”

He smiles warmly. “It’s not bravery, it’s passion. When you love something deeply, risks become challenges instead of threats.”

Your fingers toy with the stem of your glass, his words resonating with your own yearning for freedom. “I envy that,” you admit softly.

Charles tilts his head, studying you. “Why?”

You search for the right words. “I’ve lived in a world of certainty for so long. Every step planned, every move calculated. It’s ... suffocating.”

Charles reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Then maybe it’s time to take a risk, Y/N-with-no-last-name. Even just a small one.”

You smile, the promise of the unknown beckoning. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time.”

***

“Do you trust me?” Charles’ eyes search yours, intense under the paddock lights.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden question. “We just met.”

He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That’s not an answer.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you reply, “I might. What are you proposing?”

His gaze drifts momentarily to the track. “After qualifying … how about a drive? Not here,” he adds, seeing your hesitation, “Away from all this. The city at night, the open road. Just two people and the world.”

You tilt your head, contemplating the offer. A spark of excitement ignites within you. “A midnight drive with a stranger? Sounds reckless.”

He chuckles, leaning in closer. The scent of leather and adrenaline wraps around you. “Life’s best moments usually are.”

As his name is called by his press officer, Charles straightens up. “I have to go. But think about it, Y/N-with-no-last-name. The invitation stands.”

Before you can respond, he jots down something on a piece of paper and hands it to you. An address. “Meet me here if you’re in. Midnight.”

You watch him stride confidently towards his garage, the weight of the decision pressing on you. Risk, freedom, the open road — its all you’ve always yearned for.

Hours later, as Charles places his car on pole, you find yourself gripping that piece of paper. The thought of the city lights and the wind through your hair is too alluring to resist.

You whisper to yourself, “Midnight it is.”

***

The ornate curtains rustle as you inch your way onto the balcony of your suite. The sheer drop below sends a thrilling chill down your spine. You’ve never snuck out before but the thought of the night ahead and Charles’ invitation propels you forward. You hitch up your dress, carefully lowering yourself onto the ledge below. The soft grass cushions your landing and you take a moment to steady your racing heart.

“You’re even crazier than I am,” a familiar voice observes from the shadows.

You whirl around, finding Charles leaning against his car, an impressed grin on his face. “I had to make a discreet exit,” you explain, cheeks warming.

He chuckles, pushing away from the car and walking over to you. “Glad you made it. Ready for our adventure?”

You nod, the proximity of him, the thrill of the night, everything heightening your senses. “More than ever.”

The car roars to life as you both settle in. The city lights blur past, the nocturnal beauty of the world unfolding around you. The road beckons, the possibilities endless.

Charles casts a sidelong glance at you, a playful smirk on his lips. “Ever driven with no speed limit?”

You laugh, “Not in my daily commute.”

He grins, “There’s a first time for everything.”

The car accelerates, the wind whipping through your hair, the night alive with potential. The city skyline fades, replaced by an open stretch of road, illuminated only by the car’s headlights and the soft glow of the moon.

Charles’ voice breaks the comfortable silence. “There’s something freeing about the night. The world sleeps, and for a few hours, you can pretend you’re the only ones alive.”

You glance over, sensing the depth of emotion behind his words. “Is this why you race? For that freedom?”

He nods, his profile bathed in moonlight. “And more. Every time I’m behind the wheel, it’s a battle against my doubts, the world, and myself.”

You understand, the weight of your own gilded cage pressing on you. “I’ve been trapped for so long. But tonight, with you, I feel … alive.”

He reaches over, entwining his fingers with yours. “Then let’s live. For tonight, let’s forget the world.”

***

“Why are those men watching us?” Charles’ voice is low, almost a whisper, as he subtly gestures towards two figures in dark suits, positioned at opposite sides of the bar you found yourselves at.

You follow his gaze discreetly, feeling a familiar dread settling in. Security. Your father’s men. “They’re ... they’re just protective, that’s all.”

Charles narrows his eyes, piecing things together. “Protective? Y/N, who are you really?”

A pang of guilt washes over you. You had hoped for more time before this moment, more stolen moments under the veil of anonymity. “It’s complicated,” you admit, hesitating.

He leans forward, his intense eyes searching yours. “Try me.”

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “My life ... it’s not what it seems. I live in a gilded cage. A cage built by my father’s wealth and influence. A beautiful cage, yes, but a cage nonetheless.”

He processes this, watching as one of the security approaches your table, handing you a phone. “Your father wishes to speak with you,” the man says tersely.

Charles’ gaze sharpens, suspicion evident. “Your father?”

You nod, taking the phone with a sigh. “Hello, Papa.”

“Y/N,” your father’s voice is a mix of relief and sternness, “I’ve been so worried. You just disappeared.”

“I needed some time,” you explain, glancing apologetically at Charles who is watching the exchange closely.

“You should come back now.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” you argue gently, “I need to live my life.”

A heavy silence follows. “Just ... be safe,” he finally murmurs.

Hanging up, you face Charles, the weight of the world pressing on you. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”

Charles leans back, his expression unreadable. “So, the mysterious Y/N-with-no-last-name turns out to be the daughter of …?”

You sigh, “A very wealthy and overprotective man.”

He processes this, the playful teasing from before replaced by deep contemplation. “You know, secrets have a way of catching up with us. But,” he adds with a hint of a smile, “I’m interested in who you are, not your family name.”

You smile, relief washing over you. “Then let’s leave the secrets for another day.”

***

The morning sun paints the Ferrari garage in a wash of golden hues, every glinting reflection a dance of radiant red. Charles stands out despite wearing the same color as he eagerly waves you over to show off the helmet in his hands.

“It’s beautiful.” Your fingers trace the lines of the design, the light catching on its glossy finish.

Charles spins the helmet so you can see every detail. “Not just the design. It’s the weight, the feel. When I put this on, I’m stepping into another world. Everything else fades away. Just the track, the car, and me.”

You smile, fascinated by his passion. But as your gaze slides over the helmet, you freeze. There, emblazoned on the side, is the unmistakable logo of Y/L/N Industries. You try to hide your surprise but Charles catches your reaction. “You recognize the logo?”

Swallowing hard, you nod. “It’s … everywhere, isn’t it?”

Charles, not picking up on your unease, grins. “Oh yes. They’re our main sponsors this season. Y/L/N Industries is massive.”

Your heart thuds. Every mention, every hint, makes the looming truth harder to avoid. “They seem ... impressive.”

You avoid his gaze, watching the mechanics prepare the cars for the race. Each Ferrari, shining in the morning sun, proudly displays the same Y/L/N Industries logo. There’s no escaping it.

Noticing your distraction, Charles follows your gaze. “I’ve always found it fascinating. How brands link up with teams. How they can become synonymous with each other over the years. Like what we had with Marlboro and now Y/L/N Industries. It’s ... an alliance.”

You chuckle, trying to deflect. “An expensive alliance.”

He laughs, “Very true. But Y/L/N Industries is more than just a name on our cars. I met the owner once, at a sponsorship event. Very ... protective of his interests.”

You gulp, feeling cornered. “Is that so?”

Charles nods, oblivious to your discomfort. “Yes. Has a daughter too, I’ve heard. But she’s kept away from the limelight. Must be hard, living under such a powerful shadow.”

Your voice is barely a whisper, “You have no idea.”

He looks at you, sensing the weight behind your words. “Y/N?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally admit, “My last name ... it’s Y/L/N.”

He stares, processing the revelation. The playful driver you spent the past days with is replaced by someone more cautious, more guarded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look down, fighting back tears. “I wanted to be just Y/N, not a Y/L/N. I wanted freedom, even if just for a few days.”

Charles reaches out, lifting your chin gently. “You're still Y/N to me. But secrets ... they complicate things.”

You nod, regret clear in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles, though it’s not quite as bright as usual. “Let’s focus on today. The race. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

***

You’re startled from your thoughts when the doors to your room burst open, the journal in which you’ve been scribbling memories of your secret meetings with Charles slipping from your fingers.

Your father stands there, a mixture of anger and desperation etching his features. In his hand, he holds a photograph — one of you and Charles lost in conversation in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

“Explain this,” he demands, voice shaking.

You swallow hard, the weight of your secret outings pressing down on you. “Papa, I—”

He cuts you off, waving the photograph. “Weeks, Y/N! Weeks you’ve been sneaking around, meeting him. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Your voice trembles, “I just want something for myself, something real.”

He looks torn, battling between his desire to protect you and understanding your need for freedom. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you hesitate, taking a deep breath, “I want to be just Y/N for once, not Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t you see? That’s exactly why I protect you! The world will never see just Y/N. They will always see a Y/L/N and they will always want something from you.”

“You can’t keep doing this!” The words burst out of you before you can stop them, the pent-up frustration, fear, and yearning for freedom all culminating in this very moment.

Your father stands at the opposite end of the lavish living room, the city skyline a muted backdrop behind him. His eyes, usually so authoritative, are wide with surprise and concern. “I am only looking out for you.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “Looking out for me or controlling me?”

He flinches as if you physically struck him. “I want to keep you safe.”

Safe. The word hangs heavily between you, a reminder of the invisible chains binding you. “At what cost, Papa? My happiness? My freedom?”

He sighs, running a hand through his graying hair. “It’s not that simple.”

You pace the room, your emotions spilling over. “Do you even realize? Every choice, every decision has been made for me. Who I meet, where I go, even what I feel. I am suffocating!”

He looks pained. “I never meant to—”

“But you did!” You interject, tears streaming down your face. “Every time you made a choice for me, you took away a piece of my life.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the unspoken words and regrets creating an impenetrable barrier.

Finally, your father speaks, his voice soft and filled with sorrow. “I lost your mother. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”

Your heart aches, understanding and resentment warring within. “I’m not Mama. I need to live, make mistakes, find love. I need to be free.”

He closes his eyes tightly, the weight of your words pressing down on him. “I just ... I love you so much.”

You walk over, taking his hands in yours, feeling the roughness of age and experience. “And I love you. But love isn’t about possession. It’s about understanding, trust, and letting go.”

Tears brim his eyes, the facade of the powerful businessman crumbling. “You will always be my little girl. I would give up every dollar — everything — if it meant keeping you safe. I’m scared that one day I won’t be able to protect you.”

You squeeze his hands. “We have to face our fears. Together.”

***

“He knows. Papa knows about us.” Your voice wavers as you meet in your secret hideaway, a small bakery tucked away from prying eyes.

Charles’ face pales, his fingers gripping the table edge. “How did he react?”

You draw in a shuddering breath, recalling the confrontation. “Not well. He feels... betrayed. I think I got through to him eventually but you never know with him. One second he’s smiling at a business rival and the next he’s snatching away their company in a hostile takeover.”

Charles’ eyes darken with concern. “I don’t want you caught in the crossfire between me and Y/L/N Industries.”

You shake your head, reaching out to touch his hand. “This isn’t about sponsorships or racing. This is about us. He’s just overprotective.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “This complicates things. Your father’s influence runs deep, even in the racing world.”

Tears sting your eyes. “So what? Are you saying we should …?”

“No,” Charles interjects firmly, squeezing your hand. “I’m saying we need to be careful. I won’t let anything harm you.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “My father would never hurt me … at least not physically. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”

He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I do have a penchant for driving really fast cars. Comes with a touch of danger.”

You’re not amused. “This is serious. Papa can be ... vindictive.”

Charles looks deep into your eyes. “Then we face this together. Secrets have kept us apart but now, truth will keep us together.”

You lean in, your foreheads touching. “Promise?”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a kiss. “Promise.”

***

A reporter leans forward, her voice crackling with excitement. “Charles, you just secured a stunning victory for Ferrari in a race that almost everyone thought was Red Bull’s to lose. How does it feel to come out on top?”

Charles grins, his eyes alive with a fire that burns brighter than ever. “Honestly, it’s hard to describe. We’ve been pushing ourselves, refining the car, and today, everything just clicked. The team’s effort, the car’s performance, it all paid off.”

The crowd cheers, their elation echoing through the broadcast. The reporter presses on, “You dedicated this win to someone special. Care to tell us who?”

Charles’ gaze softens, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “There’s someone who has shown me a world beyond the track. Someone who made me realize that the freedom I feel whenever I get behind the wheel is even more precious than I always thought. This win is for her.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, the identity of this mysterious someone a topic of speculation. The reporter smiles, clearly eager for more details. “And can you give us a hint? Is she here today?”

Charles chuckles, his dimples popping through. “Let’s just say she’s closer than you might think.”

Later, as the celebrations continue, you find yourself in a secluded corner of the motorhome, away from the clamor of the team and fans. Charles walks over, that same victorious smile on his lips. “Did you hear?”

You nod, heart still racing. “You dedicated the win to me.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. “Of course. You’ve given me one more reason to keep pushing, keep racing. It’s not just about the cars. It’s about the freedom, the moments we steal away from the world.”

Tears well up in your eyes and you kiss him passionately, pouring all your emotions into that single moment. The crowd may not know the truth behind his dedication yet but you do. And that’s all that matters.

***

“Charles seems ... different than the others,” your father begins, his gaze distant as he looks out from the penthouse balcony.

You step closer, the night air cool against your skin. “Different how?”

He sighs, turning to face you, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He looks at you how I used to look at your mother.”

You smile, “I never expected you to notice.”

He chuckles softly. “Just because I’m protective doesn’t mean I’m blind. I’ve watched people all my life. It’s how I built everything,” he gestures towards the sprawling city below, the twinkling lights of his corporate empire.

The weight of the moment settles between you, the years of misunderstandings and unspoken words pressing down. “Papa, I know you’re scared. Scared of the world out there, of what it might do. But I can’t be trapped forever.”

His expression softens, pain evident. “I have seen so much, faced so many betrayals. The world is rarely kind.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I understand. But holding on too tight will only push me away.”

He closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “It’s just ... hard. Watching you grow, wanting to spread your wings. I wish I could shield you from everything.”

You smile gently. “But then I wouldn’t truly be living. Charles, he’s shown me a world beyond these walls. A world that’s unpredictable, thrilling, and real.”

Your father nods slowly. “I saw that. The way he stood by you, the way he spoke of you. He … he loves you.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, the night’s chill deepening. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Someone who sees me, not my last name, not a walking dollar sign.”

He steps closer, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “I’m trying. It’s not easy, letting go. But I trust you. I just need time.”

You nod, resting your head against his chest. “I know. Just promise me one thing.”

He tilts your chin up, looking into your eyes. “Anything.”

You smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “Trust him too. Give Charles a chance.”

He sighs, the walls he built over the years slowly crumbling. “For you, I’ll try.”

***

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” your father says, breaking the tense silence that envelops the extravagant dining room.

Charles, sitting straight-backed and visibly anxious, clears his throat. “Sir, I assure you, my intentions with Y/N are—”

Genuine laughter interrupts him. You glance in shock at your father, who chuckles, “Relax, Charles. I’ve watched you on the track. You face challenges head-on. That’s a quality I admire.”

Charles exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. Y/N means the world to me.”

Your father studies Charles, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see that. And I have seen the change in Y/N since she met you.”

You bite your lip, waiting for what he might say next. “Papa, I—”

He raises a hand, silencing you. “I’ve spent my life building walls around you, trying to protect you from the world. But maybe ... maybe it’s time to let you fly.”

Your heart leaps in your chest. “Papa …”

He smiles at you, warmth shining in his eyes. “You’re my daughter. All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness. If Charles is the one who brings that joy, then I give you both my blessing.”

Tears glisten in your eyes as you stand, moving to embrace your father. “Thank you.”

Charles stands too, extending a hand towards your father. “Thank you, sir. I promise to take cherish and take care of her.”

Your father grasps Charles’ hand for a moment longer than expected, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Charles,” he begins, a twinkle of mischief evident, “just remember … if you ever hurt my daughter, they will never find your body.”

Charles gulps, eyes widening, then realizes the playful tone your father has adopted. He chuckles, nodding, “Duly noted, sir.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Papa, you are impossible.”

Your father grins, the atmosphere significantly lighter. “Just making sure he understands.”

Charles playfully raises his hands in surrender. “Message received loud and clear.”

***

The pitter-patter of little feet echoes through the grand halls, accompanied by peals of laughter. The once silent mansion is now alive with the exuberance of youth. Every corner and every room tells tales of play and joy, of childhood memories being crafted.

“Slow down, my darlings!” You call out in amusement as you chase the energetic duo.

Charles laughs as one of your kids hides behind him, tiny hands clutching his leg. “You can’t hide here forever!” He teases.

From the doorway, your father watches, his eyes glassy. The stoic businessman, the guardian of a vast empire, is rendered soft and vulnerable by the presence of his grandchildren.

“Grandpa!” The children cheer, running to him, their arms outstretched.

He bends down, scooping them into a gentle embrace. “I have a surprise for you,” he whispers, producing a small cage with a golden canary inside from behind his back. Its wings barely beat, eyes darting around to mirror its trapped spirit.

The children’s eyes widen in wonder. “Why is it in a cage, Grandpa?”

Your father looks up, meeting your gaze, the weight of the past reflected in his eyes. “It looked sad at the market, just like someone I once knew. But we’re going to set it free.”

Together, the family moves to the balcony. Your father opens the cage door, and the canary, after a hesitant moment, takes flight, its song a melody of freedom and hope.

As you watch the bird disappear into the horizon, your father breaks the silence. “Sometimes, we cage the things we love, thinking it’s for the best. But true love is about letting go, letting them spread their wings.”

You lean into Charles, his arm wrapping around you, the children nestled between you both. “Thank you, Papa,” you whisper. “For letting us learn the true meaning of freedom.”

Your father smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It took me a while but I finally understand. Love, life, freedom — they’re all interconnected. We just have to find our sky.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

DP x DC AU idea:

Regent!Jazz

Having been ecto-contaminated since conception, Jazz is the most Liminal being in the world, which has her develop a proto-core. As in, death has about 30% claim on Jazz and every year it grows stronger the longer she lives above the portal.

Can Jazz walk through walls, disappear and fly? Sorta, occasionally, and no. It depends on how much Ecto she has in her system, otherwise she’s just got her inherent strength.

Jazz inherited the Fenton Law Loophole tendency.

She swaps out her psychology books for books on Realms Law, spends a week locked in her room with them in fact. It concerns Danny and co., because what is Jazz up to?

Jazz claims regency thanks to three factors:

1: Danny unconsciously views her as a third parent thanks to her raising him in a neglected household. She got him to fourteen before she looked away for a minute, ok?

2: Danny is a minor in both human and ghost culture, therefore he’s baby and needs time to grow up without bearing kingly responsibilities, right?

3: As mentioned before, Jazz is the most Liminal being in the modern age, with a slowly developing proto-core. This allows her to be able to not only survive the Infinite Realms on a long-term basis, but able to step up as Regent at all.

————

Sam and Tucker, while Liminal too (thanks to them getting flooded with it with Danny’s death) still have a ways to go in terms of contamination- give it a few more years in Amity Park and they’ll start to show more symptoms of death-claimed, though they’ll never be able to surpass Jazz. Not even Jack and Maddie Fenton could ever say that, considering they wear Hazmat suits daily that has limited exposure, but were also adults when first contaminated- the ecto would take a lot longer to bond to adult molecules than that of a just-conceived child.

Maybe Jazz even leeched off some of Maddie’s contamination in the womb? Whose to say.

Where does DC come in?

Perhaps the vivisection route? It’s a tried and true method of getting Danny to Gotham, but I raise you- Jazz essentially “kidnaps” Danny, taking him away from his haunt once she is Regent.

Gotham is a city drenched, drowning, in tragedy and therefore natural ectoplasm for a powerful Liminal and Halfa to survive on.

Lady Gotham welcomes the two eagerly into her city and directs Jazz to the soon-to-form Lazarus pit- corrupted ectoplasm, but nothing Danny can’t filter out with time, it’ll heal him and whatever happened to his core after being ripped away from his haunt.

It does cause a rift to form between the two, but Jazz is firm in staying in Gotham. Right on the edge of Crime Alley to be specific.

Here we can slide in Vigilante!Jazz, who is pissed off at the world and needs to work out some excess energy. Enhanced bone density means that Jazz doesn’t have to worry about screwing up her knees with a few ‘superhero landings’.

Liminalality means that she can sense the weird guy in the Red Hood whose territory she keeps crossing into while beating the crap out of some criminals and escorting the night workers home.

Revenant!Jason…

….possible Anger Management/Hardcover pairing?

[Im thinking about continuing this, but idk. I do have like a page written out with Regent!Jazz]

Masterlist

#dp x dc #jazz fenton #jason todd #danny phantom #dp x dc au #I want an anger management ship so badly

[anti-the-glitch-bitch]

To be or not to be (a blackmailer) part 3

Duke thinks of how ironic it is that he named his ability the ghost sense when he never believed in ghosts. He understood the confusion when people found out about it for the first time. For the record, Duke has seen some absolutely crazy things, but he has never seen a ghost. He knows Justice League Dark has a ghost informant that was made by magic or something like that, but he doesn't know if that actually counts as a ghost.

Imagine Duke's surprise when he was walking around the shopping district of Gotham, and he sees this bright light in the vague shape of a person also walking around. Well, he wouldn't call it walking. It was more like floating. Anyway, it seemed to go from store to store where it would disappear for a few minutes inside the store and then come out again a little bit later. Whatever the thing was filled Duke with intrigue and, just like the rest of the Batfam, he had to investigate this phenomenon.

That was harder done than said. At times the vague shape would look exactly like some guy who looked kinda familiar but also not really, and then other times, it was so bright he had a hard time looking at it. It also seemed to get faster the more he followed it. A few times, when the thing looked more person like it seemed to stare directly at him with a cocked head, and then it would take off and disappear for a few minutes. It was really, really weird.

After a good couple of hours, Duke finally lost the weird thing in a crowded grocery store, where it disappeared through a wall and never reappeared. Confounded, Duke immediately called for a family meeting because if ghosts were real and his ghost sense wasn't just a made-up name, then he wanted to know so he could freak out later.

Bruce immediately called up Constantine (it took several calls to the weird magic guy and a call to Zatanna before the guy actually answered the phone), who started cussing worse than any sailor and told Bruce that he'd be there in a few hours to take a look around. Chaos erupted at that news, and the clan gathered around Duke, bombarding him with a million questions that he didn't have answers for.

Duke did, in fact, freak out later that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny just wanted to check out the stores in the nicer parts of Gotham without having to worry about being mugged or some crazy villain popping up where he was, so of course, he went there invisible and intangible. Imagine his surprise when he caught some guy following him around. At first, Danny thought it was just a coincidence. It wasn't until he came out of the third store that he noticed the guy staring at him with shock and confusion.

He did a few experiments and visited a few more stores before being absolutely certain that he was being stalked. It would have been pretty unnerving if Danny had been honest with himself. He didn't need any of the Bats catching wind of him here. He's dead, which is a medical condition, but Batman may not see it like that and consider him meta.

Everyone knows how Batman feels about metas.

The guy followed Danny for hours until he just couldn't take it anymore. He went into the busiest store he could find, which just so happened to be a grocery store. The creep, of course, followed him in, but Danny lost him by walking out the back wall of the store and flying off.

He was quite upset that he couldn't buy anything while he was out. He'd just have to wait for another day off to actually go shopping, not that he could afford much in this part of town. Still, it was coming up on Tim and his 4-month anniversary, and Danny wanted to get him something special. Maybe his boss will let him leave work early tomorrow?

#dp x dc crossover #tim drake wayne x danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #Constantine is done with everyones shit #Bruce hates magic and wishes he didn't have to talk to Constantine ever again #Duke is freaking out cause what if his power has evolved to now pick up ghosts #He doesn't want to see ghosts

[camilaxmartin]

I’m so glad there is another Lute lover 😭 literally she makes me feral. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for Lute w a super feminine gf (in personality and fashion sense)! If not that’s totally cool and you can ignore this ask!!! Have a great day! :) 💜

her princess

navigation // rules // masterlist

summary: headcanons about lute being in relationship with a high feminine girl and everything that comes with it:)

warnings: soft!lute, a bit suggestive part at the end, adam being a dick in one scene

notes: finally getting to the requests! yay! anyway, LOVED WRITING THIS ONE AS I AM PERSONALLY A VERY FEMININE GIRLIE SKDHDDJ

requests: open!!

★ | let’s start with the fact that you’re literally the purest and most beautiful angel lute has ever seen in her life and in whole heaven. the first time you two meet she literally can’t take her eyes off of you, explaining to herself that she’s just simply admiring how confident you are while being so… girly and the literal opposite of what she has thought her whole life being confident means.

★ | it was nothing special, the first time you two met, just a simple, accidental meeting on the promenade of heaven, lute walking home off-duty when she spots you. if she hadn’t have this much of self control she’d just stop in her tracks and stare at you, but thankfully her mind didn’t let her. she notices the way you’re dressed and how amazingly beautiful your wings present themselves with this whole look and she’s literally speechless. not that she’d utter a word to you if she wasn’t.

★ | it’s obvious you notice her as well, how could you not? an angel like her just walking around the promenade, cmon now, who wouldn’t notice her? you smile softly to her and just turn away, walking your own path, making that dress of yours flatter perfectly. lute’s eyes haven’t left your presence till you literally disappeared from her field of view. and she could’ve sworn her body didn’t have any reaction to you, yet her wings came right in to disobey her. they puffed up ever so slightly, making lute feel the heat going through her back. and since then, you haven’t left her thoughts alone, messing up with her daily schedule and everything she’s known.

★ | adam has picked up on her strange behaviour almost immediately and looked at her suspiciously:

“what’s up your ass this morning, danger-tits?” he asked looking at her with his eyebrows raised. she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“nothing, just…” she stopped mid sentence and huffed. “nothing” she added and flew off, getting ready for her training.

★ | the next time she saw you, she was walking home as well but this time spotted you sitting at the ‘gods-caffe’ eating a donut with sprinkles. she stopped and just simply observed you through the huge window on the wall of the caffe, definitely forgetting about a fact that you can, indeed, see her too. just when you finished your last bite of that donut you instinctively turned your head to the side and noticed her, literally starring at you. at first you were a bit confused but that expression almost immediately turned into a soft smile, as you started to get up from your seat. that action seemed to pull lute out of her state as she immediately started walking away and even flew up just to not let you catch her.

★ | and that simple interaction if you can even call it that, caused another wave of questions from adam to fall over her the next morning:

“okay, you’re quite out of this world, what’s on your mind huh?” he asked smiling like he knew exactly what was going on and put his hands on his hips. lute rolled her eyes and groaned flying away once again, to join the other exterminators in their sparring.

★ | as she finally thought she got over that mystical angel girl that seemed to corrupt her mind, as she was flying around heaven with adam, he bumped into you causing a lot of chaos:

“watch where you’re flying, asshole!” he yelled not even looking at who he’s bumped into. when lute turned her head and noticed you, her eyes immediately went wide and she felt the lump in her throat forming, looking at your another dress fitting you just so perfectly, the colour matching your eyes.

“oh, sorry” you said stroking your cheek where adam’s mask has hit you few second ago. he rolled his eyes and immediately flew off, flying even higher up the clouds. your eyes finally noticed the girl who seemed to be staring at you for a moment now. you smiled to her softly and waved.

“hi” you said with remaining smile, your dress floating in the motion of your wings keeping you in air. lute was immediately pulled out of her thoughts and stared at you even more intensely now.

“uh- hi” she said looking away and her eyes stared following adam who was now waiting above the two of you with confusion forming on his mask.

“i saw you in front of that caffe, and wanted to talk to you but you disappeared” you said with a soft chuckle and lute swore it was the softest sound she’s heard in her life. and then she noticed you were waiting for her response.

“oh yeah- i was just passing by” she shrugged simply, trying to erase the fact that she was literally starring at you that day. “you…” she cleared her throat and looked up at adam again. “i have to go” she said quickly and flew off, joining adam high up. you just followed her with your eyes and with a small frown but decided not to chase them not wanting to get into another conversation with that dude.

★ | and after that incident adam was even more sure what was happening. he started annoying lute all day long about that girl she suddenly lost her ability to speak around and that it’s unknown for her to do so. he started joking about how the girl was literally looking like a doll and that was when lute had had enough of him and decided to take a day off, just to gather her thoughts and, let’s be real here, get a break from this dipshit

★ | on her day off, she decided to simply fly around heaven to let her mind wander and finally get rest. after a lot, and i mean, a lot, of thinking and wondering she’s come to conclusion that it’s immaculate that you’re able to be confident as an angel looking that… feminine. which made her mind spiral even deeper making all of her thoughts just about you, about how you look, about your voice and how soft it is and how outrageously sweet your lips must taste… wait-

★ | she’d probably spend her whole day off just on that when she noticed you sitting on a cloud close to when she was actually flying. she took a deep breath and decided to approach you. she flew up to the cloud immediately and just floated right next to you. your head turned immediately and the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen creeped onto your face.

“hi” she said with more confidence this time her wings immediately opening more and puffing up a bit. you obviously noticed that and chuckled, the sound making lute’s wings puff up even more.

“hi” you responded and moved a bit so she could sit down next to you. and she did.

★ | i’d say your attraction to her grew rather quickly same as hers to you. she was still amazed by your delicate personality and the way you dressed and how you managed to pull it off so… effortlessly. and believe me, it added a lot to her liking to you.

★ | after that accidental meeting on that cloud, lute decided to ask you out to that caffe she saw you in, not even realising it sounded like a date and not just a normal meet-up, but the smile on your face assured her that you didn’t mind it being an actual date.

★ | when you two met up for that date, lute was surprised to find out that you had some kind of a sweet tooth and couldn’t imagine a coffee without something sweet to eat with it. she let you pick whatever you wanted and whichever coffee you wanted and smiled seeing you picked out the sweetest one they offered while also ordering a slice of strawberry-chocolate cake with it. she ordered an expresso for herself without anything to eat.

“i see you like sweet things” she chuckled sitting down at one of the tables against huge windows. you giggled taking a sip.

“what can i say? i guess i like to sweeten up my life as much as i can” you chuckled taking a bite from your cake. “in any matter” you added with a small smirk.

she raised her eyebrow at you not fully understanding. “what do you mean?” she asked taking a sip from her cup.

“i choose sweet people to sweeten up my life as well as the sweetest treats i can find” you laughed and lute’s eyes went wide as she looked away from you with a chuckle trying to hide her embarrassment from that little teasingly compliment of yours.

★ | lute was delighted to find out you loved flowers. the first time she’s ever been in your apartment, she noticed straight away how many plants you had and that you always had some kind of flowers on your coffee table in the saloon. she smiled to herself knowing exactly how to surprise you next time.

“hi!” she yelled flying up to your window one day and waking you up. you yawned and walked over to the window opening it and looking at her surprised.

“lute?” you asked surprised, looking at the girl floating behind your window wearing a wide grin.

lute’s smile widened even more as she took out flowers from behind her back and handed them to you. “just a little treat for you” she said more nervously now but still trying to keep her voice calm. your eyes widened and a smile immediately creeped up to your face.

“my god, thank you!” you said taking the flowers and moving away from the window so she can enter your bedroom. you immediately put the flowers onto your desk and walked back to lute locking her in a hug she definitely wasn’t prepared for. “best morning ever” you whispered with a giggle at which she chuckled nervously.

you leaned away a bit when you felt her wings flatter a bit and she looked away awkwardly, feeling her cheeks starting to burn. you chuckled and decided there won’t be a better occasion than this. softly your hands grabbed her cheeks and you moved your lips to hers, connecting them in a soft and quick kiss just showing your gratefulness. lute didn’t kiss you back, but not because she didn’t want to, but because she was too stunned to do so. when you leaned away with a chuckle she immediately moved her face to yours, locking your lips in another kiss, less soft and definitely less stunned.

★ | something she’d need to get used to is how many little stuff you own. lute isn’t really the one to be nostalgic and sentimental about a lot of stuff, but when she saw your collection of random things that just bring joy or any other feeling to you, that you decided to keep, her brain told her she doesn’t own anything sentimental.

★ | when you started spending even more time together and lute stayed the night with you, she was surprised but very pleasant to get to know about your love for baths and everything that comes with it. she couldn’t believe her eyes the first time she saw how many bath salts and bombs you had not really expecting you to have so many in so many different colours and shapes. she looked through them curious and picked up a heart-shaped, black one smelling it, her eyes going immediately wide when the scent hit her nose.

“you like it?” you asked with a giggle running a bath for yourself, standing next to her.

“it smells marvellous” she said smelling it once again. you just giggled at her reaction and started to take off all your rings to prepare for the bath.

“you can use it if you want” you said nonchalantly with a smile watching her face turn up into a smile.

“really?” she asked looking at you with literal glimpses in her eyes at what you giggled once again.

“of course” you responded with a smile.

★ | speaking of which, lute was surprised to see your collection of rings. of course she noticed those that you were wearing daily but she didn’t expect you to have a full box of different rings and necklaces. she looked through them fascinated and even put on some of them when she was sure you couldn’t see her. she looked down on her hands and smiled enjoying how they looked on her fingers, making them longer and slimmer. when you came into the room her wings immediately went out hiding her while she tried to desperately take off the rings so you wouldn’t notice she tried them on. you slowly walked over to her with a curious smile, moving one of her wings out of your way and noticing how she tried to put all of them in their places. you chuckled softly.

“you can wear them if you want” you said walking away from her and going to the mirror to brush your hair. lute smiled sheepishly at you and picked out one ring putting it on her finger admiring it once again.

“i didn’t know you liked jewellery so much” she said still being focused on her hand. you chuckled softly and shrugged.

“what can i say? i like to have many options” you smiled looking at her through the mirror. “you can keep it” you added looking at the ring she chose.

“definitely not” she said laughing nervously and taking it off. you rolled your eyes playfully, walking over to her and putting the ring on her finger once again, softly looking into her eyes.

“keep it. please.” you said with a smile and lute couldn’t help but look away trying not to blush, as her wings puffed up without her consent.

★ | the same night she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw your collection of stuffed animals. she smiled uncontrollably seeing how deeply you talked about every and each of them and couldn’t wait for you birthday to come so she could surprise you with another one of them. or to be fair, she just couldn’t wait to surprise you with it any day, not looking at the occasion.

★ | lute also didn’t expect your pyjamas to be as soft as they actually were. when the two of you got into your bed, lute wearing some old t-shirt with shorts and felt your silk matching set of pyjama on her skin she literally looked down at you with pure surprise in her eyes which you softly laughed at.

“you like my pyjamas?” you asked and she nodded her head, cuddling you tightly, pressing her skin onto yours her wings puffing up uncontrollably.

★ | deeper in the relationship lute would need to get used to a lot of things with you. for example your mood swings. of course she was a bit moody herself but the first time she saw how easily your mood could be changed just because of a small thing she needed a moment to understand it. she loved your personality and everything that came with it so it didn’t really change much, and just the thought of getting to know more of your sides made her heart flutter which she hated herself for, not being used to having that much feelings for someone.

★ | the first time you offered doing a spy night with her she was a bit sceptical but your puppy eyes made her change her mind very quickly. and just like that she ended up with a black care mask on her face, cucumber on her eyes and some kind of pink mask on her lips.

★ | when you asked her if you could paint her nails she didn’t have anything against it, until you said you wanted to paint them pink. she squinted her face and sighed but agreed, telling you she’d wash it off in the morning when she’d leave.

“pink really suits you” you said painting her toe nails and giggling. lute rolled her eyes but smiled looking down at her pink nails both on her toes and hands.

“sure” she said teasingly and laughed as this time you rolled your eyes.

“really, it brings out your lips” you said and she looked away feeling her blush.

“shut up” she said as her wings puffed up a bit, and her eyes stayed on your ceiling. you chuckled.

★ | safe to say, she didn’t wipe it off in the morning no matter how badly she complained before that she’d do it.

(a bit suggestive!!)

★ | another thing lute was surprised but also delighted to find out was the collection of lingerie and matching sets you owned. she didn’t mean to find them at first, but when you told her she could pick out something from your wardrobe to change into she just… happened to find them and beside the huge blush that covered her face she also couldn’t stop her mind from wandering and imagining you in all of those sets in many, and i mean many, different situations.

you walked back into your room noticing lute was just starting at something in your closet, so you softly sneaked up to her peeking at what she was looking and chuckled softly.

“enjoying my collection?” you asked with a giggle feeling your blush coming out. lute immediately looked back at you with a dumb smile and a nod of her head.

“yeah, very” she said looking away from you and her eyes uncontrollably going back to the underwear and then slowly to your body. you giggled seeing her eyes.

“wait for the day you see me in them” you smiled and kissed her forehead leaving a lip stain there.

“can’t wait” she chuckled and looked at you, grabbing your waist softly and pulling you in for a deep kiss, her wings puffing up immediately, when her lips only touched yours.

@lizbizbae <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #lute #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lute fluff

[bloodynereid]

Hi can I please request a Jordan x reader . Reader has power that glitch & saves Jordan. Reader hey I am lucky that I didn’t get stuck in between a wall.

Thank you.

Flying Grand Pianos - headcanons

pairing: jordan li x gn! reader

tw: cursing, mentions of uncontrolled powers, cate and sam went to prison (i'm sorry okay! they're my pookies but for this fic to work i had to do something), uh nothing much ig? unless u have a phobia of falling pianos... then maybe don't read this??

description: your powers come in handy in the weirdest situations.

a/n: hiii hopefully u enjoy this! i literally did not mean to make this as insane as it ended up being but hey i'm sick and running on like too little sleep, i hope it's still entertaining tho cause i had sm fun writing this lol. i tried to integrate everything you said into headcanons cause it felt more apt ? ig... anyways requests are open & lmk ur thoughts <3

It was your final year at God U, somehow you had actually made it through the insanity that happened during junior year. You had even come out of the whole situation with a whole new group of friends… even if Cate and Sam sort of had to be locked away because of all the shit they did.

Thank whoever had decided to call the FBI because you had no idea how the entire situation might have turned out if Homelander showed up instead.

So life had turned back to normal towards the end of junior year, mostly because Vought was able to keep most of the situation quiet. Now you were only a step away from becoming an actual superhero… which was a strange situation to think about.

Your powers weren’t all that noteworthy but were insanely useful in battle and to get out of awkward conversations… especially since you were able to mostly control them.

You had the ability to glitch, which essentially meant you could manipulate the fabric of reality around you and mess with it (always with a limit of course, you weren’t an all-powerful magician). You mostly used it for teleportation or to mess with people, something that was always sooo worth it.

You also were kind of insanely good at dealing with actual glitches in computers, which made absolutely no sense but it did help adding to your skill set for your major.

There was probably one specific time where your powers worked in your favor in the best way possible. Over the past few years you sort of developed a tiny little miniscule (HUGE) crush on Jordan Li and now that you were actually able to call them your friend that tiny little crush grew into something way bigger.

What you weren’t aware of was that Jordan felt the same way, they always viewed you as this pretty incredible supe but never really had the chance to talk to you… until the whole The Woods situation. After that it almost made it harder for them to just ask you out on your date… because you had created such a tentative but strong friendship - something that Jordan hadn’t had since Luke. Something that they weren’t sure they would be able to walk away from again.

It was a few months into your senior year when the incident happened. It wasn’t something crazy like Homelander suddenly massacring the school instead it was an incident that belonged in the halls of a supe school… one of the new freshmen had somehow conjured up a piano in the middle of the damn sky and was unable to make it disappear.

The one problem with this piano was that it was falling... and falling really fucking fast.

You had been drinking one of your favorite drinks from Jitter Bean when you were surprised (and very concerned) to see a piano making its way towards Jordan - a very distracted Jordan who was talking, or rather yelling into their phone.

It barely took you a second to make the decision before you dropped your drink and glitched in Jordan’s direction - thank whatever all powerful force was out there for actually having it work because a moment later you reappeared next to Jordan and grabbed their arm before glitching again.

Suddenly you were standing in your room and Jordan was looking at you like an insane person before a loud crash and a whole bunch of yelling was heard outside the window.

Jordan shot a confused look before darting over to the window, only to find that a huge grand piano now stood (well not really it was sort of everywhere) where they had just been standing a moment ago.

You shot them a sheepish smile as they turned around to look at you with a dropped jaw.

“I actually can’t believe that worked, I’m lucky I didn’t accidentally get us stuck between a wall.”

lol i have no idea what this is but i like it anyways.

#gen v #gen v fanfic #gen v amazon #gen v spoilers #andre anderson #jordan li #marie moreau #luke riordan #golden boy #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #gen v tv #maria writes #the boys series #the boys amazon #jordan li x reader #jordan x reader #gen v x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x y/n

[babydollmarauders]

OVERWHELMED — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: in which Lovie gets overstimulated and overwhelmed and Jack swoops in to help.

notes: this is totally not me projecting at all— nope- definitely not

it was something i wasn’t prepared for about motherhood— i’ve always been sensitive to loud noises, getting overstimulated and irrationally upset after a while.

i was fine in situations where i expected it; concerts, hockey games, the like. but when i was in the comfort of my own home or in a place that i wasn’t expecting it, it quickly became too much.

and when these situations happened, i became irritable and acquired a touch aversion. needing some quiet time to myself in order to recover.

when i became a mom, i was able to power through it. the newborn and infant years being an easy feat, as my daughter was a relatively quiet baby.

but with the toddler years has come the screaming, even when happy. Eleanor’s once quiet demeanor disappeared, replaced by excited squeals and happy yelling.

she would be playing and just randomly start screaming in excitement or get frustrated and scream out of annoyance and distress.

i was understanding. she couldn’t fully talk yet to express herself and for the most part, i could breathe through it and be fine. but there were those few times where it became too much.

like now.

El’s excited screams bounce off the apartment walls as she runs around the hallways with her tiny red target cart, full of her favorite toys. baby dolls and magnetic building blocks piled in the cart, running into door-jambs and furniture and clinking together.

i take deep breaths, my head pounding in ache as i sit on the couch. i love my daughter. so much. but this is entirely too much.

my husband stands in the kitchen, laughing as our toddler crashes her cart against the back of the couch, making the entire sofa jolt before she screams in excitement once again.

i flinch, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep inhale. i reopen my eyes just in time to see my two-old run around the side of the couch, slipping and falling onto her butt.

she lets out a shriek in frustration, tears springing to her eyes as she rises back to her feet, abandoning her play shopping cart in favor of fast walking over to me on the couch.

climbing up the couch cushions, her cries get louder with the close proximity, making my breath hitch.

“mommy!” she whines. her little hands grip my shoulder as she steps into my lap, plopping herself down and looking up at me.

i instinctively lock up, my back straightening and my hands flying up towards my shoulders in attempt to get away.

it makes me feel like a horrible mother. i can’t even power through the touch of my own child when i’m overstimulated like this.

El’s cries get louder as she reaches up to touch my cheeks.

“mommy! boo boo!” my heart aches in my chest and i’m near tears, myself. i hate seeing my baby upset but i can’t bring myself to do much. i bring my hand down, rubbing her back but even that makes my skin crawl in discomfort.

“it’s okay, El-Bell.” i attempt to comfort her, but my voice is near-robotic, just running through the motions.

my tears finally spill over and i send a desperate glance to my husband, who is already stepping over to us.

he gives me sympathetic eyes, quickly scooping up the toddler from my lap, which only makes her more upset.

“mommy!” she cries out, reaching around her father to make grabby hands at me, my heart shattering even further.

“hey.” Jack coos, turning around so that El’s back is facing me. “it’s okay, lovely. daddy’s got you.”

his eyes lock with mine and he gives me a quick and affirmative nod, letting me know that he’s got this, and i take that moment to rise from the couch, sneaking off towards our bedroom.

“you wanna watch a movie, baby? you wanna watch Ariel?” i hear him ask, resulting in the halting of El’s cries. i assume she’s nodding, as not a moment later i hear the familiar ‘thum thum’ of the disney+ app being opened on the tv.

i quietly creak our bedroom door shut, leaving it open just a crack before moving to lay on the bed, burrowing myself in the blankets. my head just barely peeks out of the comforter, providing me with fresh air.

sobs wrack my body, lightly shaking the bed. i cover my mouth with my hand, muffling my cries so that my toddler doesn’t hear them out in the living room, but it only serves to make me cry harder.

it’s moments like these where i wonder if i’m failing my child. because i sure feel like a failure. what kind of mother am i? to get so overwhelmed by my own child, that i can’t even stand being touched by her?

it feels like hours until my sobs finally subside, but in reality i know it’s only been maybe half an hour.

now i lay in the bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling and overthinking everything.

is El going to hate me for this one day?

have i let her down?

is Jack going to hate me for this?

will he get tired of the fact that i can’t handle our daughters loud noises and leave me?

my thoughts are interrupted by the dip of the bed beside me. i look over to see Jack laying a napping Eleanor next to me on the mattress before he lays down on the other side of her.

he looks at me with an expression full of worry, pity overtaking his face.

i turn on my side, facing my husband and our daughter, and he does the same.

“how are you feeling?” he questions softly, not wanting to wake our sleeping toddler.

“better.” i tell him, gazing down at El and running the back of my hand across her chubby cheek.

i love her so much.

“i feel like i’ve failed her.” i confess. “like i’ve failed you both.”

Jack is quick to squash those feelings, leaning over the toddler to press a sweet kiss to my lips.

“stop doing that.” he pleads. “stop reducing yourself down to your bad moments. i love you. El loves you.

“so you have a few times where it all becomes too much- i may not be able to understand it fully, but i do understand that it’s out of your control. you love El, i know you do, i see it every day. if it were up to you, i know you would never have these moments. but they do happen, and that’s okay. El may not understand it yet, but she will one day, and she still loves you regardless.”

his words make tears prick my eyes once more and i break our eye contact to gaze back down at our daughter.

“you are more than these moments, Lovie. and i will do whatever i can to help when they do happen.” he tells me, smiling softly.

“when i’m home.” he adds, making me let out a watery giggle.

“i love you.” i express, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“i love you more.”

“thank you for being so understanding. and for swooping in to help.” i smile, raising a hand to cup his cheek, trailing my thumb softly over his cheekbone.

“thank you for being the most amazing wife and the best mother to our beautiful baby girl. thank you for giving me the best gift i’ve ever received.”

“your ‘#1 dad’ hat?” i joke, making him throw his head back in laughter.

“our daughter, Lovie!” he clarifies through chuckles. “although, i do love that hat.”

#el!hughes au #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

[specialagentlokitty]

Arthur x reader - our secret

Can you do Arthur with Merlin’s sister who also has magic and uses it to save him and he keeps her secret because he cares about her.🙃🙂 - @faithm120601 💜

Running through the hallways, you were cursing your brother out for making you do this.

You didn’t want to be a part of anything, but he made a good point of Arthur probably had no idea about the intruders, and that somebody had to warn him but it was too last.

Since Merlin could keep them back a little and use his magic without Arthur being there, he then left telling the prince of Camelot to you.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” Leon asked.

“Intruders at the front! Merlin trying to hold them off!” You called.

“What?!”

“Go! I’ll tell Prince Arthur!”

Leon nodded his head and ran in the direction you had just come from while you carried on your route.

You were close, just a few more hallways and you were be there.

Running around the final one, you stopped to take a few breaths, walking over to the doors where there were supposed to be guards.

But there were none and that put you on edge as you approached the large doors.

You could hear the signs of struggling, and you peaked through the gap in the door.

You could see anything, but you could tell there was a fight going on inside, so, cautiously you opened the door a bit more so you could slip in.

Arthur was in there, pinned to the wall, struggling to hold back the sword that was against his neck.

You didn’t know what to do, and in your panic of not wanting to let him die, you raised your hands, eyes turning gold as you whispered something under your breath.

You threw your hand to the side, and the attacker went flying on the floor.

Quickly you lowered your hand and hid yourself behind a cabinet.

“Who’s there?” Arthur called.

He looked around, but couldn’t see anybody.

He couldn’t search the room, he needed to deal with the attacker.

After a few moments you stood up.

“Sire, there’s been intruders, Sir Leon has been told and he has gone to my brother who is at the front of the castle with them.” You said.

Arthur looked at you, then the unconscious man on the floor.

“I think the warning came a bit too late.” He snapped slightly.

“I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could.”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, who else has been told?”

“King Uther, as well as the other guards.” You explained.

Arthur slowly nodded his head, narrowing his eyes at you a little bit.

He carried on binding the man so he couldn’t break free, and began to slowly move around the room.

You watched him carefully, making sure that he was okay.

Seeing movement behind him you looked at it.

“Arthur behind you!”

He wasn’t going to be able to turn around quick enough, you saw that.

So, you did the one thing you’re good at.

Using your magic, you used it to throw a book at the man, and you quickly put your hands behind your back.

“You have magic?!” Arthur hissed.

You said nothing.

He marched over to you, standing right in front of you, sword still clutched tightly in his hands.

“Please don’t tell my brother… or Gaius…” you whispered.

He furrowed his brows.

“They don’t know?”

You sighed, looking at him, shaking your head a little bit.

“No, I knew what would happen to me if anybody found out, I never wanted to bring them into that. They know nothing of it.”

Arthur looked a little confused.

“You know what will happen to you but still you chose to use magic in front of me? Why?”

You gave Arthur a little smile.

“Because you’re the prince, it may not be my duty to protect you, but you were in danger. I would do it over again, between you dying to some intruders, and me being executed for using magic, I guess the choice is as simple as any.”

“You were the one behind the defence last week, aren’t you? Bandits suddenly disappear, what did you do with them?”

“I am, but they didn’t get hurt. I simply trapped them in a different part of the valley to you is all. Then scared them away.”

Arthur slowly nodded his head.

“Why will you not run away?”

“What’s the use? You already know, I knew what my fate would be when I made that choice sire, why run?”

He looked at you and you smiled at him.

“Please Sire, Merlin and Gaius may be confused, but don’t tell them. Tell them I left, I had to go home, I’ll write a note, it’ll be easier on them.”

Arthur sighed softly, nodding his head.

“Of course, I’m sorry it has to come to this.” He said quietly.

You smiled slightly.

“It’s okay.”

You both turned to the door as it was opened, and Uther came rushing in with some guards.

You bowed your head in respect, stepping away from the Prince.

You listened to them as they talk, but stayed lost in your own mind at the same time, not really taking the words in.

You were trying to think of what would happen to your brother, your best friend, you just wanted at least for him to be okay.

“You did this?”

You snapped out of your head, turning to the king, nodding your head.

“Yes sire, I did.”

He looked at you, walking closer.

“You brought down a fully grown man? How?”

You went to speak, but Arthur beat you too it.

“She threw the book! She has a good throw from what I saw.”

Uther turned to his son.

“Threw a book?”

Arthur quickly picked up the book you had used your magic on, and set it down on the cabinet.

“I see.”

Uther turned to you.

“In that case, thank you. I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn’t of come.”

“You needn’t thank me. I would do the same again if I had to.”

Uther smiled a little.

“That’s reassuring to hear, I will have these two taken out and guards placed at the door, more this time. Find somebody to clean this up.”

“I will do it Sire, I’m here already.”

He nodded and left, and you began to clear up the mess that had been made in the room.

After a few minutes when you were sure everybody was gone, you glanced up at Arthur who was just about to leave the room.

You decided not to bring it up there, so you waited.

Maybe he was still going to tell his father, but over the next few days nothing happened.

You found the Prince stood near some shelves, so you walked over, pretending to clean them.

“Sire?”

“Yes?”

Arthur turned to look at you.

“Why haven’t you told anybody?”

“Why would I?”

You glanced at him before turning away.

“You saved my life, I owe you that much to do the same to you at least. But you need to promise me no more.” He whispered.

You slowly shook your head.

“I can’t make that promise, I would do it again if I had to.”

“Then you risk being exposed, please, no more (Y/N)…”

You sighed, turning your attention to him.

“Okay…”

He smiled, looking around before he stepped closer.

“Thank you..”

With that, he brushed his hand against yours as he left with a little smile on his face, and you smiled as well, know at least for now everything was going to be okay.

But who knew what the future would bring

#bbc Merlin #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin x you #bbc Merlin imagine #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon x reader #Arthur pendragon x you