#I'm trying to find a pattern I like to make a small purse with

[foolishcrafting]

I made a cross stitch pattern from this illuminated manuscript, here it is if anyone wants it!

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Circus

I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance

You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.

A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.

"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"

Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.

The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?

There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.

"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."

He ponders for a moment, before adding:

"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.

"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"

A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.

"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.

"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.

"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"

Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.

"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."

They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.

"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."

Pulcinella's Tent

The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.

You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.

"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"

Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.

"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."

The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.

"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.

"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."

He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:

"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.

"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.

You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.

"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."

Sandrone's Tent

You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.

"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."

He gestures for you to come closer.

"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."

He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.

"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."

You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.

"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."

"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.

Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.

"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."

Pantalone's Tent

You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.

"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"

He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.

"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"

With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.

You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."

He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.

"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"

The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.

"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."

He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.

"You know where to find me, love."

Il Capitano's Tent

You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.

A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.

"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."

"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.

"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."

You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.

Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.

"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.

This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.

The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.

"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."

Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.

"Outrageous! How dare you-!"

He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.

"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"

Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.

You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.

Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.

Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.

It's the Ringmaster.

"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.

The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.

"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.

A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.

"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."

Oh, God. What have you done?

Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?

[earlysunshines]

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just three seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.” 

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

— 

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.

[rottiens]

✮ tags. . a lot of sexual tension, suggestive, touch starved Wriothesley, gn reader. divider creds: cafekitsune.

"I don't have an attitude, what the hell are you talking about?" Wriothesley, clearly with an attitude, barks as he points at you with the index finger of his left hand, his right at his waist as if trying to make a point with body language.

His nose is wrinkled, threatening to growl at any moment just like a cornered animal. Seeing him so defensive makes you scoff letting out a small chuckle, still gazing at him.

You take a step forward invading your boss's personal space, the elevator shakes with the weight of both of you and you have to control your body so as not to pounce on him in search of stability.

You mimic his previous position, one hand on your hip, another raised in front of you both, your index finger pushing against the hardness of his chest.

"You. fucking. do." You pause between each word. "And you need to stop doing that with me, you know I'm doing a good job." You were, Wriothesley is just being a dick lately and that attitude is getting under your skin. You don't understand what his problem is now. "You don't have to be breathing down my neck all the time."

"Don't touch me." He grabs your wrist and quickly pulls it down to an area impossible for your field of vision to see, he doesn't let go right away which is strange to you, his gloved hand slides over your skin, in a strange mix of softness and hardness.

You check his face, the marks, the small wrinkles at the corner of his lips made by the time of so much pursing, barely visible wrinkle marks on his forehead, once more ….. From so much puckering and you realize that beyond being your boss, Wriothesley is an attractive man and it's just that the barrier you've built up to ignore that fact though more than that he's a tired man, an exhausted man and you can see it perfectly now.

Wriothesley smells like he's walked all over The Fort, yet it's not unpleasant at all. Underneath the slight smell of sweat is the scent of his manly soap and shampoo that blends into a peculiar fragrance with the sweat. You take a deep breath to control your emotions, you don't want to start a fight and you definitely don't want to give space to that new emotion blossoming inside you, on the contrary, you need to drown it with a bad attitude and get away from him as fast as you can.

"Can you let go of me now?" at the mention of his grip Wriothesley looks down to verify that he is certainly still holding you prisoner close to him. It's just that before he can respond or let go of your hand, the elevator moves abruptly announcing the arrival at the top floor which causes you to end up losing your stability and tumbling towards Wriothesley who grabs you firmly by the waist to keep you from falling at his feet.

His fingers cling to your body inevitably calling you more to him and only inches from his face, with his minty herbal breath brushing against your nose you realize what the problem is.

"You're pent up." You affirm and exhale, your breath brushing against his mouth. Wriothesley doesn't bother to affirm or deny it, the same impassive reaction remains on his face, then you add with a slight shake of your head. "How long since you fucked?" It's like a jab, perhaps too direct and bordering on the intimate for the kind of relationship you two have.

Wriothesley could fire you if he wanted to at that moment, you expect him to push your body off him but that never happens, instead you feel his hand slide down your waist and hug you closer to him. His erection blatantly rubs against you back and forth, his hips barely moving in a rhythm with no specific pattern, answering your question.

You exchange glances with his eyes and lips, the tip of his tongue brushes his upper lip and your own mouth feels dry, you find yourself thinking how much you would love to suck on his tongue, so pink, so thick. You find yourself getting hot imagining how it would feel in the middle of your thighs.

Suddenly the elevator doors open and the hot steam and bustle of the Fort squeezes between the unbearable silence and the heat that was created between the two of you.

"Come to my office for tea, my treat."

[hannsluvely]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one

chapter two | red. rain. rotten.

his pov;

She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?

The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."

"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."

"I can't afford anything else to eat."

My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"

"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."

"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."

"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"

"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."

The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.

When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."

"Are you a man of money?"

"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.

"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."

"What kind of pirate were you?"

"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"

"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."

I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.

Then I discovered her.

And my plans completely changed.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.

"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.

"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.

"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"

Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.

"The plank."

Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."

"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."

"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.

Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.

"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.

I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?

"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.

I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.

The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"

"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"

"Ha! What?"

"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.

"You make a good point there."

"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.

I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.

But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"

"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"

"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."

“Why not?”

“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”

What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?

“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.

“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.

I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.

‘Y/N,

It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.

I love you, kiddo.

Love, Dad’

I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”

“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”

“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”

“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”

“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”

“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.

I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.

“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”

“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.

“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.

I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.

On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.

I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.

"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."

"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.

"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."

"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."

"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."

"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"

"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."

"No need."

"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.

The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.

Y/N still had my coat.

[amorgansgal]

Practice Makes Perfect

So here we go! At long last, I've finished my fic and I loved writing this one so much! Just to ensure absolute clarity I'm kind of seeing the academy as a university, so everyone here is over the age of 20 and somehow I've pegged Gale as a complete slut evidently!

Gale x Fat Female Reader

CW: Sexual content, Oral sex

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ you desperately whisper to your friend, Nira, who is dragging you through the mahogany panelled library where absurdly high bookshelves tower above you both.

The library is quieter in the late afternoons and evenings, there are only a few students either absorbed in the small mountains of books that surround them or are busily writing out long essays, the familiar, comforting sound of turning pages and the scratch of pen against paper fills the large room. As you pass the candlesticks the wicks catch alight, now that the room is getting gloomier and the sky is darkening. The sun is sinking low in the sky, casting the last rays of golden light to be dispersed through the diamond patterned windows. The dark wooden floorboard underneath your feet glitters with the thrumming magic that spills from the books in the room and the stunning reds, golds and oranges of the last light of the day.

‘Don’t be such a wet blanket,’ Nira hisses in response. ‘Besides, I thought you were interested.’

‘I am,’ you insist, though a hot blush still creeps up your cheeks. ‘But I don’t want to be mocked or for him to judge me.’

‘He’s not going to judge you. From what I heard he quite likes…’ she hesitates, pursing her lips as though wanting to find the right way of putting it.

‘Fat women?’ you prompt.

She sighs. ‘I was going to say ladies with larger thighs, but sure, fat women.’

‘You promise me, he won’t laugh or-’

‘He’s not going to laugh and if he does I’ll fireball him right in his face.’

You bite back a laugh at the thought and Nira grins at you, then continues, ‘Besides, I’ve had the joy of experiencing Gale’s tongue and it’s well worth it. Honestly, I wish he was interested in properly dating someone, because I’d throw my hat in the ring, so many men act like the whole thing is disgusting. Oh but we’re expected to suck them off whenever, even if their dicks stink like piss!’

You smile, it’s been a complaint of Nira ever since she got to experience Gale’s tongue and you’ve heard all about his ability non-stop since. Most of the girls in your class have talked about it. You’re surprised they’re not jealous of one another or are trying to win him over, but he apparently doesn’t seem to care about entering a serious relationship and is just happy to oblige his classmates’ desires. You had your concerns though that he would not be interested in you. You’d always been on the larger size, your mother certainly didn’t help matters by pointedly making remarks about how most people associated female magic users with beautiful, ethereal waif like creatures. No one thought of dumpy little witches unless they were old and ugly. You did your best to shrug off comments like that but it still stung and you felt like you had to work twice as hard as your classmates just to be given any forethought or attention from either your peers or your teachers.

Gale, when you had occasion to work with him, was refreshingly respectful, kind and seemed to actually see you. You’d grown almost accustomed to any man’s gaze immediately drifting past you and onto your thinner friends. If it didn’t happen so often you might have even been angry about it, but you didn’t really see the point. So consequently your experience with men was rather limited. You’d been kissed, sure, but it was such a fumbling, innocent mess of a kiss you weren’t quite sure whether to count it. You’d touch yourself but you always felt a bit embarrassed about it and sometimes your own self-doubts would turn you off. So it was usually a rushed affair and didn’t quite leave you fully satisfied.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Nira says as you reach the end of the library where instead of desks and rigid back chairs there are soft, plush sofas nestled in alcoves and you see Gale look up at your approach. He gives you both a warm smile and you immediately feel that this whole thing is a horrible, terrible idea. Your feet slow and Nira is practically dragging you over. Your heart is thudding in your chest, the blood rushing in your ears, and it feels like your throat is about to close up. Gale is handsome. He has foppish brown hair that tickles the back of his neck. His eyes are a warm, deep brown. His easy going smile is inviting. And you feel all your weight, the soft plumpness of your belly, your thighs catching slightly on chairs and tables as you walk over. He is going to say no, he is going to look at you like you are disgusting and repulsive and how could you even think he would want to give you pleasure?

‘Good afternoon, Nira,’ he says and inclines his head in greeting. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Well, it’s not so much pleasure you owe me!’ Nira says with a grin and tosses her head at you. ‘You remember Y/N, right?’

‘Of course, I still am very resentful you soundly beat me in my alchemy test!’’ he says, though there’s no malice in the tone as his smile widens and his eyes glimmer with mischief. 

‘Well, she’s heard what you like to do.’

Gale laughs, and for a moment your heart seizes in terror. ‘Really? Am I getting that kind of reputation?’ he asks, though you can see he’s quite proud of such a reputation.

Nira rolls her eyes. ‘Oh come off it Gale, you’ve practically had every girl in the classroom that way and we all talk about it!’

His eyes flick back to you and a shiver runs down your spine. The pupils in his eyes have widened and you’re quite certain it has nothing to do with the gloom of the library. He wets his lips and you’re almost scared of the way he’s looking at you… he’s looking at you with desire and your silly heart doesn’t quite know what to make of it. But then he clears his throat and gives you another sweet, winning smile.

‘And I take it you’re interested in allowing me to practise? Because if you’re not and Nira has just dragged you here when you don’t like the idea, then please don’t be bullied into it. I’m very happy to have a chance to work on my technique, but I don’t like the idea of someone being less than enthusiastic,’ he says and his gaze is entirely focused on you, and you almost don’t want to look at him because it’s so startling being treated like an object of desire. But you manage to keep your head raised and your eyes fixed on him.

‘Yes, I do… I am interested,’ you say. ‘If you’re… um… interested in me, you don’t have to if it would prove distasteful.’

That same wicked, mischievous gleam is back and he draws closer to you. ‘I am interested and I assure you, it never proves distasteful, quite the contrary in fact.’

‘Gods, should I just turn my back or are you going to wait until you’ve gone somewhere more private?’ Nira asks and you flush at her words, though Gale lets out another burst of laughter.

‘I would assume my room would be preferable,’ he says to you. ‘Though Lucia and I did make use of that corner over there,’ he gestures to a table tucked into a corner by a bookshelf and you inhale quickly, imagining your hands holding tightly onto the shelves, your butt on the table and Gale’s head between your thighs. You bite you lip and press your legs together, there is no denying the desire that courses through you at the thought of the risk that would be, the possibility of being caught, though you would find it mortifying. It’s better to not get ahead of yourself and you nod.

‘I would prefer the privacy of your room,’ you say, and Gale offers his hand to you. It takes you a moment for you to take it, but he gives your fingers a gentle squeeze and then puts the book he was holding back on the shelf. 

‘I assume we should go there now, unless you have prior plans,’ he says to you. Were it any other man you would have assumed he might be trying to put you off, but it sounds like he genuinely cares about whether or not you’re busy.

‘No, no, we can go there now,’ you say, then glance away because of how embarrassingly eager you sound.

‘Good,’ Gale says and takes hold of your hand more firmly. Nira catches your eye and smiles as he begins to walk by her.

‘Have fun!’ she says.

‘See you later, Nira,’ Gale says to her, you only manage a nod as you feel rather tongue tied.

***

Gale’s room is definitely cleaner than some of the guys’ rooms you had seen within the dormitory rooms of Blackstaff Academy. Oh, there’s robes tossed over chairs, the desk is littered with books, papers, quills, an open box of herbs and crystals and sublimates. But there’s no forgotten plates or dirty cups. Gale’s room actually smells quite good too, a faint hint of bergamot and cedar. He pulls out the chair in front of the desk and turns it around to face the bed, then gestures for you to sit in the chair. You sit down, nervously placing your hands in front of your belly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Gale closes the bedroom door, then sits down on the bed opposite you.

‘So, now that Nira isn’t around, you definitely want to do this? He asks.

You nod, your throat feels very dry and tight. Gale smiles at you softly. ‘Just want to check, as I say, don’t want to do this with anyone who has doubts. I’d like to ask you a few things first.’

You nod again and curse yourself for losing all sense of any wit or wisdom you once had in your brain! But Gale is relaxed and begins work on removing his boots. ‘First, easy one, do you want me to lock the door or just have it closed. I’m sure you know I have a tressym and she comes and goes as she pleases, and while she’s respectful and polite, I don’t put it past some of our classmates not to barge in!’

You think about it carefully, then say, ‘Lock the door please.’

He casts arcane lock on the door and then grins at you, you can’t help smiling back. ‘And you know knock, so you want to get out you’re free to go whenever you want,’ he says, the implication runs underneath, you’re in control, what you say goes, if you don’t like it you can go and there won’t be any hurt feelings. You feel rather touched he’s going to all this effort.

‘Next question, would you prefer to be partially clothed or entirely naked? When I do this I do quite enjoy touching my partner everywhere, but your comfort is more important than what I find enjoyable,’ Gale says.

You look away, you still feel self-conscious about your belly and you can’t imagine Gale would want to touch the soft, fleshy weight of it, let alone even see it! ‘I’ll keep my blouse on, if that’s alright,’ you mutter.

His two fingers catch under your chin and he lifts your head. ‘It’s fine by me, but it’s more important that it’s what you find alright, your comfort comes first. Now, biggest and hardest question,’ he says, smiling. ‘Can I kiss you or would you rather I didn’t and just work my magic between your legs?’

‘Yes,’ you whisper, your eyes are captured entirely by his and your voice sounds faint. ‘You can kiss me.’

His hand slips down your cheek, lightly resting against your neck, his fingers curve round your head and he pulls you forward. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you sweetly at first, tentative, gentle, as though he is worried you might flinch away, but nothing could be further from the truth. Your heart hammers in your chest and you feel like you might forget to breathe. Your hand hesitantly goes to his chest, you don’t want to push your luck, but he instead presses his free hand over yours and you can feel the warmth of him bleeding through his shirt. He lets out a groan and then pulls away from you, breathing hard and certainly wearing an expression of wanting to eat you up. 

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘If I’m not careful I’ll get carried away!’

You wonder what ‘carried away’ might entail, given what you’re about to do. But you don’t have much time to think about it, he helps you up from the chair and unties the laces of your skirt. He tugs it down over your hips and you watch him bite his lip when your thighs come into view, he’s utterly focused on your legs and his hand reaches out eagerly, but he seems to collect himself to not just grab a meaty handful. Gale gently strokes down your thigh and guides you to the bed, grabbing the pillows and putting them behind your back. He removes the slippers that had been on your feet, tossing them off into a corner of the room and seems to admire the stockings you wear, though they aren’t particularly sexy you think, just the fairly standard academy uniform ones. Once you’re comfortable, he returns to looking at your legs, he traces his fingers up from your ankles to just behind your knees, making you shiver. You still feel a bit embarrassed about Gale seeing you like this, of opening your legs so he can see all of you.

Gale catches your eye and smiles. He leans down and kisses you, that same sweet, soft kiss. ‘You alright?’ he whispers.

‘Mmhm,’ you manage, well at least you made a sound this time. Gale chuckles quietly.

‘You look so beautiful,’ he says, then trails kisses down your mouth, your jaw and neck, nipping at your ear and making you gasp as the hot little jolt of pleasure soars through you. You decide to ignore that him saying you’re beautiful is probably both something he says to all the girls who come to him for this and also definitely a lie in your case.

He scoots down the bed and slowly pulls apart your legs, his stare is so intense you have to close your eyes. His fingers skim up your legs, his nails stroke down your thighs, until they reach the crease between them and your mound. 

‘Hmm pretty,’ he says, and he pulls his right hand away for a moment. You open your eyes to see him with his thumb in his mouth that he pulls out with a pop and then he places it against your clit and circles it. The sensation makes you gasp and arch up, though you still cover your belly with your arm. Gale lets out another tight groan and suddenly lies down between your legs, his fingers still play with your clit, feather-light touches sliding down to your entrance and teasing it, then going back up making you bite your lip hard to not let out a sound.

‘You can make as much noise as you like, in fact I’d rather you do,’ he says, then brings one of your thighs over his shoulder. Your eyes flicker open as he presses kisses against it. He nips at the sensitive skin, a playful, teasing bite. ‘It tells me if I’m doing a good job.’

He keeps kissing down your thigh and suddenly he’s at the apex, his hungry dark eyes watching you intently, you can feel his breath on your nether regions, your belly feels tight and it’s all you can do to both stay on the bed exactly where you are or beg him to relieve you of the growing ache and need for something. He gives you one quick, delicious smile and then buries himself between your thighs. You don’t know what to expect, but his warm tongue darting out, circling your clit and then more firmly suckling it makes you feel like a hot jolt of electricity zapped through your body. The pleasure is mind melting and Gale is all to happy to apparently drown in you, his mouth and lips and tongue… You forget yourself, forget all your shame, the hatred of your body, the disgust you feel with yourself, and surrender yourself utterly to pleasure. 

He’s good, too good. He seems to cotton on quickly to what you like, how best to draw out every bit of pleasure, everything that makes your toes curl, that tighten the muscles in your thighs, that makes you instinctively grasp a handful of his brown hair between your hands and he keeps bringing you to the peak of pleasure over and over, until you see stars in your eyes and feel so lost to it all, so desperate you wind up babbling and pleading for him to let you cum.

‘Please Gale, please, please, don’t stop, please don’t stop. I need it, I need it so badly!’

You feel his laughter vibrate through his body, but finally, mercifully, he acquiesces and you are undone by pleasure, it roars through your body like a furnace, his tongue still maddeningly teasing your clit and you are left almost sobbing on the bed, uncaring of the warm gush between your legs, the air not filling your lungs enough, the world feels dizzy and spectacular and glorious. His head pops up and you can’t help the laugh you let slip at his slightly dazed, but altogether thoroughly pleased expression. 

‘You need to taste yourself,’ he insists, and he kisses you again fiercely, his tongue sliding into your mouth and you do. It’s not a bad taste to your surprise, musky and a little tart, but intoxicating and sweet. Once he’s satisfied he raises his head, though he’s still lying on top of you, he rests his forehead against yours and sighs contentedly. His chin and small beard is soaked through. ‘How was that?’ he asks.

It takes you a moment to clear your throat and find your voice, but more because you’ve been done in, not because you are flustered. ‘Good, very, very good. Thank you.’

‘No, thank you,’ he says, and you let out a breath of laughter that he’s still ever the gentleman. He gets to his feet, grabs an empty basin and a cloth, and comes back to your side. He fills the bowl with warm water using a prestidigitation spell and starts work cleaning you up, tenderly washing you down, though you almost feel a little disappointed you couldn’t keep the slick between your thighs. There’s already a delightful prickling sensation from where his beard rubbed against your legs.

He helps you to your feet, then picks up your skirt, giving it a little shake to remove any dust and holding it open for you to step in. ‘I can manage to dress myself,’ you say.

‘I know, didn’t doubt that, Miss beats-me-soundly-at-alchemy,’ he teases. ‘But I like doing this.’

He brings over your shoes and insists on helping you with those too, having you sit back down on the bed as he puts them on your feet. You have a feeling it might just be because he gets to touch your legs once more.

‘You have the best legs,’ he murmurs. 

You let out a snort of laughter. ‘Given how many you’ve apparently seen, I doubt that!’

But he vehemently shakes his head. ‘I mean it, the best legs in the whole school. If you ever wish for another time I’d be happy to oblige, but I’d quite like it if you sat on my face.’

‘Gale, I’d squish you or break your nose!’ you say.

His eyes gleam at the thought. ‘Well worth the risk!’ He gets to his feet, then offers you a hand and after helping you up, he turns your hand over and presses a kiss to the knuckles. ‘Please come back any time.’

You shiver with delight at the thought, but simply nod and leave the room.

***

Of course Nira wants all the juicy, sordid details and you spend the better part of the evening quietly whispering and giggling in your dormitory room as you recount it. She does seem surprised though when you mention that Gale had asked if he could kiss you.

‘Really? He didn’t ask to kiss me,’ she muses, then gives a shrug. ‘Maybe that’s just something new he does, though I swear Jacanthe was just before you and she didn’t talk about him kissing her. I’ll have to ask her at breakfast.’

It’s an odd, trivial notion you’re sure, but you can’t help the pleased little smile at the thought that maybe, just maybe he had solely wanted to kiss you. But you dismiss it, Gale could have any women at the academy and you know better than to get swept away with the idea that maybe his feelings ran deeper for you than anyone else!

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Twenty-Two

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,055

Themes; isekai, slowburn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Rating; swearing and mature themes

Notes; Hey guys! A little late on the update, but I finally got around to finishing 22! I'd say half of 23 is gonna be Foreseer Zayne and then we're onto Lightseeker Xavier (I know the Zayne chapters have went on for a long while, but I haven't written much for Zayne so...This is for the Zayne Biased <3). I'm sorry I can't rush and have them back to the current timeline just yet, but I'll try to keep it short and sweet.

I'm also working on a few things for Divisa! So I'll probably be up late tonight, unfortunately for me.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

The moon masks the sun, and only a golden ring remains. A beam of light strikes the Creatio protocore. Light reflects off of it, forming chaos and patterns of disorder, which is brought into the hands of the Foreseer.

Ancient symbols gradually appear as he pieces together a puzzle. Astra’s will has presented itself, and the Foreseer’s indifferent facade reveals a hint of indignation as he too is imprisoned by the prophecy. Astra has spoken.

Those who defy fate are sinners and shall be punished by Him.

When you finally open your eyes, you find yourself lying on the floor of your room. Moonlight cascades onto the empty bed. You only recall being overwhelmed by a strange feeling at dawn…Were you unconscious for the whole day?

You look in the mirror and realize…the marks have already reached your neck. Your clothes will no longer be able to hide them now.

If you take the Creatio protocore…will the Foreseer still be Zayne? And if he isn’t the Foreseer, he’s doomed to be trapped in the Tower forever. Doesn’t that make him a prisoner? You don’t want to hurt Zayne, but…You can’t die like this.

What if you told Zayne the true extent of your illness..?

You enter the library and ice appears in front of you, forming an arc. “Good morning, Jas…Is the Foreseer here?”

The phantasm sways from left to right.

“So he isn’t… You and the Foreseer dislike lies. Would he ever forgive someone who has lied to him?”

Jas sways in an agitated manner.

“Of course..” You say with a sigh, “He won’t forgive me then.”

Jas hears sorrow in your voice, and a platform of ice appears under your feet, lifting you up. More ice appears, shimmering and glittering.

It’s trying to comfort you.

You can’t help the sad smile that ghosts across your lips nor the tears that mist your eyes. “Thank you, Jas.”

You sit on the ice, traveling between the endless rows of shelves. Has Zayne read all of the books here?

“I wonder what the Foreseer does when he’s upset. Then again, he might just scowl regardless of his mood.”

As you mumble to yourself, it suddenly begins to snow. You’re in awe, watching snow descend like flower petals dancing in the wind. A few snowflakes fall onto your hand. They sparkle like crystals and do not melt.

“What are they?” You murmur, running your thumb across the snow in your palm.

“Were you not the one asking about what I do when I’m upset?” You hear a calm voice from below. You sit on the floating platform as Zayne stands at the door, looking up at you. 

“So it is possible. Was the prophecy not to your liking?”

“It matters not. Only a true envoy of the king can deliver it.” You stay silent at that, pursing your lips.

It seems he still hasn’t let that go…

”You are mocking me again. You aren’t upset then.” Zayne lifts a finger and the ice carries you down to him. He looks you in the eye.

“And you? What do you do?”

“I…” You think of the flowers you planted in the past as they sway in the breeze. “I dance.”

“I thought humans only dance when they are happy.” 

“Not all of them. The more upset I am, the more I try to move around.” 

You hear Zayne audibly sigh before he glances at you, then holds out his hand. “May I?”

 “...Are you requesting a dance? Here?” A small laugh of disbelief slips from your lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“We will both feel better if we dance under the snow.”

You hesitantly look at Zayne. His expression is reminiscent of a merciless blizzard as per usual.

“Would you prefer we do something else?” 

“We can dance.” The warmth of Zayne’s hand spreads from your fingers to the rest of your body. In the Tower’s library, you waltz. Snowflakes gently flutter about, and you step on the jasmine-shaped ice. 

Everything has led to this precious moment. You gaze into each other’s eyes, your hands touching, your steps synchronized.

“You’ve lived here by yourself since the beginning so…who taught you how to dance? This can’t be your first time.” You question and Zayne looks away for a moment, “Perhaps my body still remembers the motions from the past.”

“...Are you referring to your other lives?” Your tone was softer than usual, almost matching the slight change in tone that the Foreseer also carried.

 “The Foreseer cannot truly die, so your description isn’t right.” Zayne looks at you, but it feels like he’s gazing into a time long gone.

“What is it like to remember things from another era?” This was a question you could get behind.

Especially since you were currently remembering things from a time forgotten. 

“It is no different than being in a never-ending snowstorm.” You watch Zayne, the lonesome air surrounding him. Though you are in the same room, moving to the same rhythm, he is a dreamer whose dream may soon come to an end.

However, you felt the same way. This dream of yours was bound to end soon and you’d find yourself in yet another one soon after.

You squeeze his hand. “If the snowfall is eternal, find someone to dance with you. At the very least, the two of you will be happy.” Zayne’s gaze sweeps across you like a feather brushing across your cheek.

“You don’t seem to be upset anymore.” His voice was barely above a whisper and you cheekily reply, “Our dance would be better with some music.”

Following the rhythm of your steps, you start to hum. Your voice echoes within the library.

“You…always hum this melody when watering the jasmine.” He notes, avoiding your gaze. “So you’ve noticed…”

“Will you sing for me?”

“To the afterglow cries cosmic demise. Our world in deceptive amber paradise.

In these sands of time. My frozen bouquet awaits.

With your gaze so full of wonder, I hold four jasmines asunder. His secrets revealed.

Hark the bard, ‘O legends unfold. This distant tale they sing to you. Unspoken desires, sincere and true.

A jasmine in time’s embrace. A fragrant aria, a moment’s grace.”

○o。.

.。o○

Zayne…couldn’t recall the first time the jasmine appeared. Ever since he took upon the mantle of Foreseer, the Tower of Thorns had always been home to the jasmine that never bloomed.

It is like a riddle waiting to be solved, or maybe it’s a metaphor for his fragmented memories. The jasmine’s existence is an unremovable thorn— a reminder of his past, or his failure to remember who he is.

Zayne dreams the same dream. It is one he has dreamt of many, many times. He kisses the jasmine bud, and then his entire being sinks into darkness.

“Zayne. Zayne.”

Yet he hears her, her voice cutting through the shadows.

Why does her voice sound as if it’s from the jasmine itself and from the distant past?

Zayne waits for the darkness to swallow him once more, yet when he opens his eyes, the jasmine he kissed in his dreams has turned into the face of a girl. 

A girl he knows all too well.

○o。.

.。o○

“Zayne…Zayne?”

You frantically knock on Zayne’s door, time passing by ever so slowly before he finally opens it. He appears to have just woken up, his eyes hazy with sleep.

“I thought you were normally awake at this hour?” You question, one hand on your hip.

Though, Zayne doesn’t respond. Instead, he only looks at you…as if you were a stranger.

“Ah…Nevermind. Follow me!” Brimming with excitement, you grab his sleeve and you’re surprised he lets himself be dragged out of his bedchamber.

You’re trying to keep your pace slow since Zayne had just woken up, but you were too excited. You bring him to the top of the Tower.

In the joyous glow of the sun, the jasmine’s trembling petals unfurl one after another.

“Zayne, look! The jasmine has bloomed!” You quickly turn to face him, wanting to see his expression﹘curious about his reaction. His eyes hold a burning spark as he looks at you.

“I…What?” You let out a nervous laugh as you rub the back of your neck. “Haven’t you been looking forward to this?”

However, Zayne is still silent. He lowers his gaze, suppressing the light in his eyes. It seems he’s looking at the jasmine and…you.

“...At last.”

“So? Am I not a skilled gardener?” 

“You were late.”

“Huh?” You shake your head with a small smile on your lips. “When not a single blade of grass grows here but a strange jasmine, you don’t need a gardener.”

“Hence why it only bloomed in your presence.” 

Zayne was…being strangely nice today. He also appeared to be much happier than before. You wonder what he dreamt about that would make him feel less cold than before.

“...Don’t shower me with praise. Now you’re making it sound like this was bound to happen.” You clear your throat and step closer to the jasmine, fingertips brushing against the soft, fragile petals.

Deep in thought, Zayne continued to stare at you. “Have…I offended you again?” You tilt your head to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His gaze shifts to your hand still holding his sleeve.

Huh…You must’ve forgotten to let go.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was too excited.” As you let go, Zayne grabs your hand.

“This is not a mere coincidence.”

“...What?” You’re not exactly sure what to make of Zayne’s words. You gaze drifting down to your hand encased in Zayne’s much larger one.

“You are not the first to step foot in the Tower of Thorns. No one has been able to make the jasmine bloom. Only you have succeeded.”

Something…about his voice makes your heart beat more quickly. An unfamiliar emotion spreads through your chest.

“What is it? You’re not acting like your usual self…” He’s acting slightly like Doctor Zayne– your Zayne.

“You’re right.” Zayne hesitates to continue, an indescribable emotion flooding his eyes.

“Allow me to take you to another place.”

“To where? You said I could leave once the jasmine blooms, did you not?”

Ouch, it feels a bit rude to bring up leaving right as an unemotional man starts acting emotional but…Sure, let’s go with that.

“Do you want to leave now?”

No.

“I…”

Do you?

Do you want to steal the Creatio Protocore, make Zayne lose his power, and leave him imprisoned in the Tower forevermore?

No…You don’t want him to be “perpetually frozen” anymore. But…you’ll die, won’t you? Without the Creatio Protocore…

☆ミ

You never expected Zayne to take you to the field of jasmines in Philos: Floral Inquiry. Under the warm sunlight, you walk amongst the seemingly never-ending sea of flowers.

“Zayne?” You question as you walk side by side and he turns to face you. The expression on his face is familiar yet unfamiliar. It’s unfamiliar because of how different the Foreseer and you are— the distance between you a chasm.

But…The current him reminds you of that wraith and of your Zayne.

You don’t understand…Is the person in front of you real or an illusion?

“Why did you bring me here, Zayne?” You were at a loss. You weren’t sure how this dream was going to end, feeling like it’s been going on for forever at this point.

You really thought it would be wrapped up by now…but surely all of the angst and sadness is done, right?

Zayne’s eyes shimmer like a lake on a midsummer’s day. “I wish to confirm something.”

His words give you little to interpret so, instead, you repeat to him, “...What is there to confirm?”

He suddenly cups your cheek, seemingly losing himself in your eyes. His gaze shines bright. Your heart begins racing, violently thundering in your chest.

What…is he doing?

“That…I won’t lose you again.”

…Huh?

…Again?

Then, a suffocating indigo is all you see. The blinding light consumes your vision while your heart feels like it’s being crushed. Your hand clutches at your chest and you catch a glimpse of Zayne’s panicked expression before you faint.

The Cryoriais.

That damned icy disease. 

I barely did any proofreading so if there's any misspellings or skipped words, I apologize 😭 i just wanted to get this chapter out bc i felt bad for missing Friday. Anyways! I'm leaving to go type up a few more chapters. <3

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog , @shypotatoes013-blog

[moodymisty]

hello! I love your darksiders content! I was wondering if you could write some spicy or suggestive fic with War?

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3]

Author’s Note: I'm glad you like my stuff! I really love Darksiders and I'm always glad to try my hand at writing for the series. There's some crazy good writers in here, so I try my best. I hope you enjoy this as well! I had a small snippet of an idea jotted down for awhile, and your request gave me some ideas and the drive to finish it.

I wrote this mostly from War's pov, since i thought it would be cute. I hope this is suggestive enough ;3

Relationships: War/Fem!Reader

Warnings: A lil' lewd but not full NSFW however still 18+ only, Bathing in a lake, War is a buzzkill and human is a silly thing, first kiss, nudity

"Oh wow, that lake is beautiful."

War usually pays no mind to the scenery around him, but once you mention it, he does take a quick glance off to the side.

You're right; The view is beautiful. The light is shining off the water, which is reflecting the trees in an almost perfect one to one thanks to the pristine nature of the water.

War simply grunts in understanding of you, and agreement.

After that War picks up the pace again, continuing his walk forward. The metal of his armor moves and plates clinks against each other, as well as the soft noises of the leather beneath it all stretching and shifting. He has a destination in mind, and isn't content to meander the entire time.

So he's quite intent to keep moving, up until he realizes that there is a noticeable lack of a smaller, quieter set of human footsteps behind him.

When he does realize he turns almost frighteningly quick for someone of his stature on one heel, a hand flexing and instantly raising to waist height in preparation of grabbing Chaoseater; Before your body enters his vision. You're still just taking a gander at that lake you'd mention moments ago, looking through a sparse gap in the trees.

Safe and sound. He'd had a split second vision of you being gone in his moment of laxness, and he's silently relived it was nothing but nonsense his battle trained brain had conjured up.

War relaxes as much as he can relax, his brow raising ever so slightly; But his lips stay in the usual firm set position as he watches you. Looking at him you purse your lips, leaning slightly in the direction of the crystal clear lake. You take one step towards it to the side, the weight of your pack shifting off center making you nearly stumble.

"Maybe... I can take a dip?"

War looks down at you, almost confused by your wording for a moment, before it suddenly clicks.

"No."

He watches closely at the way your shoulders drop and eyes get wider, backing up in the direction of the lake anyways.

"Come on, please? I feel awful and I know I smell disgusting. I want to be in somewhat acceptable shape before we see anyone else..."

You grumble something under your breath about how he's lucky to have armor keeping his skin clean, though his glare convinces you to purse your lips on that matter.

Most of the time it isn't as if he's smelled particularly peachy keen either, it's just that War cares far less about those sorts of things. Why bother cleaning his armor, if he's going to just re-dirty it the next time he gets into a fight.

Though War has been coming to an understanding over time that Humans do work a bit different than Nephilim, and that it extends to more than just odd speech patterns.

And if it'll make you happy... Then he can live with it.

War continues to stare you down in that typical way he does, one you've been growing used to.

"I'll just be a minute. Promise."

War still finds it a bit odd that you use sealing words like promise and swear on your heart so readily, especially with a Horsemen, but you haven't broken any yet. Part of him wonders if that is a common thing with humans, or just you.

Nodding, the white strands of his hair brush over his cheeks, as you put your bag on the ground.

War however doesn't move beyond him turning his body to face away from you, giving you a clear view of Chaoseater lodged firmly on his back. His arms are firmly planted at his sides, his feet perfectly even with his shoulders.

"Uh..." You stop with a loose grip on the waistband of your pants- not having dedicated to taking them off yet, and once you speak up, War turns back slightly to look at you.

He hears the questioning tone in your voice, hands hovering in front of your stomach as you clearly wait for him to depart so you can fully undress.

War, suddenly realizing even more so the embarrassment of the entire situation, uncharacteristically stutters for just a moment when he speaks.

"I will stay here until you are finished. You will, be at your most vulnerable." He turns away fully once again, implying that he won't look, as he isn't sure he can say much more about the situation without getting red enough in the face that you'll notice.

Perhaps his elder brothers had the right idea when the both began donning masks...

War leaves no further room to combat the issue, and he figures you've accepted this outcome as well; As you don't reply, and he hears your footsteps move away from him more towards the shoreline. There's a rustling of clothes and a grunt of effort as you lean over- to take off your footwear, War guesses.

Then there's another sound; The metal clinking of your belt as you undo it, and the rustle of thicker fabric as you take off your pants. There can't possibly be much more you have to take off, unless you have more hidden layers underneath your clothing that aren't quite visible. You don't wear armor like him, so it's not as if you have to spend an eternity unbuckling piece after piece of plate-

"Ugh, there."

War catches a color fling into the corner of his vision, and daring to glance down, he sees the fabric of your shirt land right by his right boot, his neck quickly tightening as he goes nearly ramrod straight.

By the time his shoulders lower just a tiny bit, he hears the sound of water softly splashing as you step into the lake. It keeps going until you still, and the water only makes noise when you occasionally move or scoop some into your palms.

For the sake of his sanity he hopes that you'll make this quick, as he's not fond of having you out of sight; Something he hasn't really realized about himself until recently.

He knows you aren't entirely defenseless, but this realm isn't meant for humans, and many of it's denizens far out match you in size alone.

"Want to join me?" He suddenly hears you joke, shaking him from his thoughts. He can't think of any sort of response to give you, and so he simply stays silent, unable to make his tongue move.

Having gotten silence in response, War can hear you mumble under your breath:

"Like a statue..."

He's threatened people for speaking like that to him, even less, but you always are able to get away with it. Sometimes he hates how much leeway he gives you, but it's not as if he's made any effort to stop doing so. If anything, he's only given you more as you've spent more time together.

"Woah-!"

At the sound of your yell which quickly gets cut off War turns around and notices you're nearly gone, only the top of your head visible along with one of your hands reaching upward above the water.

Without thinking he rushes in after you, treading full speed into the lake and grabbing you to pull you up. He reaches for the first part of you he can grab, circling his large arm right around your middle to haul you to him. The other is reaching for Chaoseater, holding it outward in preparation to fight whatever had grabbed at you.

It doesn't seem it was anything at all however, as other than shaking your head to get the water out of your eyes, you don't seem at all concerned.

"Ack, thanks, but I just fell."

The was a sudden drop off into much deeper water that you hadn't been anticipating, and it quickly forced you to go from standing to suddenly attempting to tread water. War however had thankfully had saved you from taking in a breath full of water, but also had put himself into yet another predicament.

Your bare skin now presses against his armor and tattered cowl, while your hands grab at the seams of his pauldrons. His gauntlet covered hands cover a good portion of your waist, holding you as if you weigh nothing at all. Then again, most things to War feeling like they weigh nothing at all.

While given how close you are War he can't see anything below your collarbone, it's more so the implication that has both of you stumbling. You're completely bare, water beads spread all over your shoulders, as your hair sticks to your face.

He's frozen, as are you, but neither of you attempt to move away quite yet; And for a moment, his eyes drift down to your lips. Water droplets are still falling down your face, wrapping over your lips and dripping down your chin.

He watches the way your eyes glance away from his for a moment before looking back, and War swears your face is closer than it just was before. Your arms are now wrapped around his neck, water dripping off them and into his armor between the seams and soaking into the fabric of his cowl. He doesn't know quite when you did it, in his rare moment of distraction.

Your breath brushes over his skin for just a moment before you press your lips to his, feeling the way he suddenly and quite enthusiastically presses back.

Your arms tighten around him, while he sheathes his sword safely onto his back before that hand comes to join his other. You're so much smaller than him he has no need to use it, but even if he can't feel you much with his gauntlets in the way, it's still an unconscious desire.

His lips are surprisingly soft against yours, and almost feel hot; Feeling as he lets out just the softest groan into your mouth. You can feel some shorter strands of his hair brushing against your face, large hands pulling you almost impossibly closer. His armor feels cold even after dunking in the warm water, but it is an odd feeling; Metal armor plates on bare skin.

When you pull your lips away from his they do so with a soft pop, before you look at him with a smallish smile.

"Do you, mind sitting me down? So I can get dressed?"

War, quite quickly, realizes you're still technically in the buff, and sets you down and turns faster than you'd thought possible. He trudges through the water in his heavy armor, making it to the shore even faster than you.

And not once does he look, returning to his spot from before like an ever present sentry.

Shaking off more of the water so you can keep your clothes dry, you pull them on with the much more comfortable feeling of being clean.

Well worth the time spent in your opinion. Now you can walk around without the fear of spelling like death itself, or feeling like you're covered in an ever-present coat of grime. It's quick work to put on your top, but it takes a bit longer to put on your pants and shoes, stumbling around to do so.

"Are you finished?" War suddenly speaks, hearing the rustle of your pack as you pick it up.

"Yep. Nice and clean now. Ready to go?"

War grunts, and quickly begins moving. He's considering summoning Ruin to speed this up, though he doesn't dislike walking like this with you. He enjoys the company, something in his many long years he never thought he'd say.

"You know," Your voice fades off, though it's obvious you're going to continue. "Next time you should join me."

War nearly chokes on his own breath, before he decides to quickly summon Ruin; Who canters into scene and disrupts you before you could speak anymore on the matter.

And before War's mind could wander any further off.

[moss-bride]

Koi boi (Lawrence x fem!reader) Chapt:4

Dead dove do not eat.

How do deers mate?

The female doe enters estrus. The male buck enters rut. His horns shed blood lining while her hormones course through her body and shed tissue. Both lose themselves to a dance

She mulls over that weird fact while juggling the decision of her clothes trying for a look that isn't too showy. What will Lawrence wear? She generally saw him as an unkempt man. He will be choosing comfort over looks, she's sure, sweats and a thrown on sweatshirt with a red patterned shirt. Hair tied in the same loose ponytail. That's his usual outfit worn day in and day out.

Now that she thinks about it, does he even change? It doesn't seem it since the clothing that hang on him is always wrinkled.

Even though Lawrence isn't exactly fashionable she intends to impress him.

She chooses a decently short skirt with warm leggings and a long sleeve blouse. Going with something that looks pretty second and keeps warm first. She fights the sleepiness in her eyes and finishes her makeup. (lip balm and eyeliner for now,)

 The final touch prior she leaves is perfume. Unlike her clothes, this one is important, a scent can serve as a signature or introduction before she can even say a word. Lawrence is constantly checking out gardening books, it would make sense to single out a flowery or earthy smell. 

(she tucks thoughts of grass, horns and decay away for now.) 

After much debate she chooses warm Magnolia. She rubs small doses into her neck and wrists, heading out into the dark night. 

The hour he chose for them to meetup is oddly late. The streets are empty and free of human milling. Stores are closed, the windows on business buildings are dark. An hour before the bars close and past the time a usual person would be awake.

She's been to The Jackalope once in the past. A kind colleague had invited her out with the rest of the female employees sometime ago. The whole evening was awkward and she never got reinvited but she appreciated the sentiment.

She walks around the corner and makes it there in record time. Nothing changed around the place except the obvious fact that there's far less people. An employee is in the far right, wiping down the bar table, winding down after what must have been a busy night.

She spots the shiny blond hair in the corner, waiting for her. He hasn't ordered drinks yet. She takes a deep breath, gathering her courage, clutches her purse and heads his way. When Lawrence sees her he goes still

Doesn't break contact until she reaches the table.

Wearing his usual clothes as she predicted.

"Lawrence. I'm really happy you asked me out."

She could say 'No one's ever made an effort to know more about me. I feel that there is a chance we might mean something if we play our cards right. I hope -' but that would be idiotic thing to do. Worse, he might find it creepy.

 She sits across from him and he nervously flits his eyes from place to place. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"I wasn't." he assures her. They order drinks. He gets a beer and she does the same, politely sips after his cue. Ignoring the awful taste in her mouth.

He gulps it down halfway, as nervous as she is. Yet they let the silence settle between them. They aren't talkative people and that's what makes her like Lawrence. Others would try to start a forced conversation but he's perfectly fine with the quiet in the beginning.

She tilts in to covertly sniff him. There is that familiar smell emanating from him. Overripe fruit and…decay. She never thought she could stand such a scent but maybe it's the person that makes it tolerable.

Staring at the amber surface of her drink, the light inside the bar bounced off the ice cube to give her a warped expression. She drums her finger on the table. "Is beer your go-to drink?"

He shakes his head. "I don't drink much."

"That shows a good amount of restraint." alcohol can be such a chore to avoid.

She takes a sip as he thinks. Lawrence invited her here for a reason, an intrinsic want to act on the desire to know. It's been taunting him and growing since he started to stalk her. For years he held off, swimming beyond her vision as the whispers and loneliness grew. ( After finding her, He didn't know what to do with a kindred soul. Still has no idea.)

Since asking her to the bar, he was a ball of nerves. This is his first time willingly spent in someone's company.…what questions does he ask? What does he do with his hands except ball them on his lap? He's sweating bullets under his clothes, looking anywhere but her eager eyes. The kindness in them burns because-

He's not a good person.

 And if he continues on with this she'll find that out. Part of him imagines a world where he shows her all his perversions and she doesn't turn him away. (she understood the river, can't she understand him too.) His brain knows this is naive. What sane person would want to talk to him if they knew the skeletons in his closet?

Earlier he spent the day switching between clutching his toilet bowl puking until all that was left was bile and smoking half his storage. Neighbors had sent a complaint to the apartment office because of the smell. Bitter burnt leaves and overwhelming rot. 'A skunk orgy' a neighbor muttered as he walked past today. 

 Poppy milk ridden dreams and nicotine hazed truths that for a singular moment are less daunting.  Not that it helps. The high never lasts and he's thrust back into reality. Choking through the hazy smoke to find that it's time to leave. Throwing on what he could find and marching out the door.

Currently, he feels it's too hot in here. He can't breathe-

He takes a couple of breaths to calm the nerves jumping under skin. Slow draws of life that he counts until hitting triple digits, then he calms.

 He begs his mouth to come up with something to say. But she doesn't mind his voicelessness. Her serenity eases the worst of his worry

Sensing this inner turmoil in her 'date', She begins her next question to alleviate the pressure. A statement. "So, you are a big reader." Of course he is, why else would he be in the library practically everyday?! She could bang her head against the table with how ridiculous this is.

"I like reading. Fiction and nonfiction. But especially florilegia books, they exist as a curated collection of botanical art." While he talks she keeps her expression tentative and encouraging. Gets the feeling that he's not used to talking so much. "It's an escape. A moment where I can stop being." 

She can relate to that. "Florilegia are kind of the same as bestiary books, right? Does that mean you garden?"

He enjoys this question better than the others, visibly perking up. He must be a plant person. "I do. Vines, and shrubs mostly." She wonders the number of plants he takes care of. The location of his garden can be saved for their (hopeful) next date.

Lost in the daydream she almost misses him adding on a whisper. "I like how they need me." 

When you are needed you exist to complete a function for necessity sake. She could fit that role. "Being needed can be a wonderful feeling. Makes you feel less alone." 

He flushes, seems happy that she understands.

Then he says a strange thing. "They are helpless and can't live without me, it's nice…"

She chooses to ignore that heavy statement in favor of naive delusions

Two borderline strangers, heavily sedated by anxiety and wrapped up in their own world to an almost egotistical degree, attempting to reach across the line of understanding and knowing. He's able to let go of the haunting thought of things going bad to just be there. In this empty bar with her while She leans her chin on her palm, swirling the drink in her hand. Nodding in agreement.

 "Yeah. I mean. In my opinion, Not being needed is the closest thing I ever felt to being dead."

His head snaps up and there is an edge of a glare. Too late, she realizes she said some kind of a trigger word. "Death isn't like that at all!"

His voice is surprisingly deep, gone is the forced wispy tone. She sits up straight and glances at the bartender, who's too distracted in the back to hear. Thank the Lord.

His pink face displays a new energy. She winces, apologizes." I shouldn't have brought it up." startled by his sudden exclamation she tries to smooth over the mishap. Not expecting the turn in their conversation at all.

 But he seems oddly defensive of a topic others speak on with derision and fear. "You've experienced it..."

He stutters and falls silent. Confessing. "I did." the information breaks her heart. 

She reaches across the table and holds his sweaty palm. "I have too." shaking her head she tries to gather composure by freely admitting a personal detail. She doesn't care about her death experience. "That shouldn't be a topic for a first date.," she tries to quickly move on.

It's on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she saw. He recalls that she was an infant when she died and from that, has strange images of unmoving water. He can't reveal that he knows yet.

He notices the bandages on her finger. Thickly layered but the red soaks in a bit. 

"You had an accident." She was in her restroom when it happened. 

"Oh yeah… I was clumsy and slammed it against a drawer." She lies extra prettily while shifting the hand way. She'll take what really happened to the grave because there is a high chance if she told the truth he'd pity her or look at her with disgust, either way it's a goodbye to a second date.

Lawrence is focused on another side of it. Why underwear? He wants to ask. Can you give me these bandages too? Said underwear he shoved under his pillow. Folded so the blood patch is visible and he can reach to snake it in his palm. It's faded into pink from the amounts of times his tongue brushed and sucked it 

He's gazing at the wraps with a need he hopes isn't apparent. She's too sweet.  Drawing him in to be consumed by her flame. Helpless bug that he is. 

They don't talk much, however, the air between them is one of acceptance. His anxious mind is able to think. His body doesn't need to be stopped from shaking with uncertainty. "What do you do for a living?"

He curtly responds "Warehouse. And you?" But he already knows what she does. 

She answers brightly. The job is boring and the men around her joke too often about her going home with them. Suggestive looks they give her make her gag. Lawrence wouldn't do such a thing. He's a gentle soul. She wanted his eyes on her and she got her wish, his cool gaze hardly leaves her face as she talks, 

Lined with stress and gray skin.

Instead of testosterone driven frenzy Lawrence is pensive, would never hurt a fly. Maybe it would be more accurate to call him Ferdinand in that sense. Her docile man.  "How old are you?" she asks and eagerly observes his pink lips move.

 She was right about being in his late twenties, not that it matters, she imagines she'd still be interested if he was batting a hundred. She gives him her own age and he doesn't seem to care.

'Stag' means an adult male deer. A male deer has antlers for defense and to compete with other stags for the claims of a Doe (female deer)

I'll be your Doe. Whatever you need, I'll be. She dazedly thinks as they walk side by side with each other, out the door and into the world.

His hands are in his jacket and so are hers. They should be hand holding, romance movies say that's how a night should end, but she doesn't want to push him. Lawrence might spring away. Stags are demanding things and she needs to make the necessary adjustments to have his company. She swears she won't take what isn't offered 

Yet when they arrive at her building doors she can't help but turn to him. A novel expectation that he will initiate a romantic gesture. 

"Thank you Lawrence. I had a good time."

His gaze darts. Reluctant to leave her but unsure in showing it. His fingernails bit half moons into his sweaty palm.

She goes up one step so they are the same and cups his face. At first he freezes, ready to pull back. His skin is a bit oily under her thumb, she rubs soothing circles on his cheekbones. Her deer doesn't flee. 

The moment she's been waiting for, she inches close and lays a single peck on his lips and lingers, though chaste. Taste of a misplaced sun. Smelling of things rot and sour.

Fur hyde, salt water. She closes her eyes and enjoys the still lips that part in a surprised intake. If you told her she's kissing porcelain instead of a man she would believe you. They are chapped and cold yet she loves the brief peck. It's all she dares to take right now.

"Lawrence…" She puffs his name against his frozen cheek and he shivers.

 Her touch and breath burns into his rotten core.

She's silent as he backs off, leaving her at the doorway to her building. Her final smile is soft. Dreamy. Not a goodbye but a confession. "You're wonderful."

He could be mistaken but she's looking at him in a hopeful way, as if he brought her the world. A sight too beautiful to be a lie. He desires so desperately for it to be true. For her face to be one of those rare few in the world that don't use a pretty facade to lie.

Is he as useless as a moth in this situation? 

Helplessly drawn to the first sight of distant light on the horizon with the lack of hindsight that once reached he'll be burnt to a crisp in the graze of fire. He hates it. 

His throat seizes in confusion. 'You think you can control me?!' He wants to shake her. 'I'm not giving you anything!'

Wants to frighten her for inspiring these emotions in his chest and in the same vein, sink into the hook of understanding.

Lawrence licks his lips, faintly tasting magnolias in hot may. White/green Buds bursting in full bloom. Her enthralling scent.

He decided......

Take her thread! (kidnap)

His plants will bloom and fruit but stay in the confines of a pot. They don't move or utter words of disagreement. He does what he wants without judgment or derision from them. She would go well with his other flowers.Can't stand the thought of her existing without him, leaving him on the steps to continue her life

Leave it for now (+2 more chapters of stalking before kidnapping)

What if her trustworthiness is a lie? A trap set by her because she sensed the things that are wrong with him and is closing the trap door so she can laugh and scoff with the rest of humanity

Sound the alarm and tell everyone he is not normal. It makes him angry. He can't stand the attention

If there ever was such a thing as a baseline for his fractured mind, it is slipping in running currents. He's called to a stall. Yearning to watch her for moments more. The same way one watches a thrown pebbled sink into water.

[loopspoop]

………

He woke only a few hours later. It felt like he couldn't breathe and he was choking. Like there was an entire frozen car sitting right on top of him. He didn't know what to do.

He curled up and stuck his hand under the cushion. Feeling that the things he stole were still there brought him comfort.

He tried to focus on that comfort more than the fear of not breathing, hoping that it would go away altogether if he gave it enough time. Not that he had much luck in that area in the last few days, or maybe even ever.

Soon, he fell asleep once more.

………

It was morning, and none of the boys had stirred. Fujiko figured they needed the sleep, especially Lupin. There was almost something silly about them all sleeping on the floor and couch the way they were, like children at a slumber party.

She chuckled to herself and then went into the bathroom to freshen up. She needed to go find some better medicine for Lupin, and she knew that it could take some convincing to get the ones they would need.

After only thirty minutes, she departed the bathroom to prepare to leave, but was shocked to find Zenigata almost directly in front of the door.

“OH, sorry. I didn't realize you were awake,” Zenigata said as he turned to walk back into the living room.

She noticed his shoes were on, “Are you going somewhere?”

“If I don't check in with my men, they'll come here to check on me. I don't know what I'm going to tell them, but I have to tell them something.”

Suspicion filled Fujiko's mind, followed by several scenarios of how to get out of this town.

Zenigata saw the look on her face and recognized it easily, “I'm not going to tell them you all are here. Not like this. That's not justice, that's cruel,” he took a closer look at her, “Are YOU going somewhere?”

She passed him to pick her purse up from the counter, “I'm going to get Lupin some medicine.”

“That's good.”

“Let them know I'll be back soon,” she walked out the door.

Zenigata heard her motorcycle leave the driveway moments later, feeling quite annoyed that she had left him to be a messenger, having to wake someone or wait for someone to wake up. He had no idea how long that would take, and he needed to go report sooner than later.

He went to pick up his trenchcoat. It was lighter than it had been last night. Much lighter. He looked around to make sure nothing had slipped out, and saw nothing. But in his scan of the room he noticed small movements from the couch. It was a subtle rhythmic pattern near Lupin's face. He was hitting himself again, but seemingly trying to keep it unnoticeable.

Without saying a word, he walked over to the couch, reached under the blanket and grabbed Lupin's wrist with just enough force to keep it away from its target.

Staying where he was, and continuing to hold onto Lupin, he kicked at Jigen's foot to wake him up. He heard annoyed sounds coming from Lupin.

He kicked Jigen's foot again, this time successfully waking him up. Lupin was beginning to struggle more to get his hand free.

Jigen sat up, “What?!”

“Did you take the Walther out of my coat?”

Lupin paused in his struggle.

“Wha … Wal … What'd ya mean?” Jigen was still trying to catch up to being awake.

“Lupin's Walther. Did you take it?”

“What? No. Wait? Did you have it?”

“One of the guards shot it out of his hand and gave it to me. I was going to use it as bait. It's missing.”

Jigen stood up and stretched, “Why would I take it, Pops?”

“I'm not sure. But we need to find it.”

……..

They both knew where it was, but they needed to physically find it. No one else had a reason to take it other than Lupin. And even then there wasn't any particular reason for Lupin to take it that either of them knew of. Unless he recognized it.

While they searched around the room, Jigen woke up Goemon and told him what was up. They still hadn't found it and they had searched most of the room except for where Lupin was. But none of them were sure how to approach him, they wanted to avoid any more episodes, and it was especially dangerous if he had a gun, but they also needed to know where it went.

The three of them went into the far corner of the room to figure out their next steps. Zenigata suggested for Goemon and him to keep Lupin calm, while Jigen would check for where the gun had gone. All of them were nervous as to how it could turn out, easily going wrong, but it seemed like the best plan that they had for now.

Goemon and Zenigata went over to the couch and attempted to coax Lupin to get up, mostly with the promises of breakfast. He was unresponsive, instead turning away from them and into the couch once more, and they both wished Fujiko was there to help, or that they had at least known how she had gotten him to cooperate earlier. Though Zenigata was glad to see that Lupin was no longer on his side where he could readily hit his injury. That was at least one less thing to worry about.

When their coaxing didn't work, they resorted to simply lifting him off the couch themselves. He fought, but only weakly, grabbing onto the cushions, particularly the one on the far left where his head had been.

Jigen noticed, and so went to investigate. As he went to lift it, so he could see underneath, he noticed several medium sized spots and smears of blood, mostly on the arm of the couch. Ignoring it for the time being, he lifted the cushion and found all of the items that Lupin had stolen. The keys, the gun, and the wallet. He hadn't even noticed that keys were missing, and he gave a silent ‘thank you’ that Lupin hadn't decided to book it while they were all unconscious.

He took the car keys and Walther and tucked them into his pockets. While he trusted Zenigata well enough to keep a truce, it felt wrong for him to be the one to hold Lupin's gun while he was recovering. He was sure Pops would understand. He took the wallet out as well, though noted that it wasn't a wallet but instead Zenigata's ICPO badge.

Jigen tossed the badge back to Zenigata, who barely managed to catch it while still holding on to Lupin. He looked at it confused, though Jigen was unable to tell if it was because he couldn't tell why Lupin took it, or if he hadn't even noticed it missing in the first place.

………

Lupin’s like a crow. Find all those shiny things and hide them for later

[letstalktea]

Content: Grand Duke!Wyll x afab!Tav, post game, established relationship, fluff and smut

Word count: 950

The cool sheets of the bed – a bed so grand you could hardly believe that you'd been sleeping on the ground nightly not all that long ago – ran softly over your naked body. Once upon a time, you would have shivered beneath such chilly covers and cradled yourself for more warmth, but these days there was a greater source of warmth beside you.

You shifted under the covers, moving closer to the body beside you and laying your head against his bare chest. Wyll's chest rose and fell with even breaths as he slept, dreaming things you would never know but things that were entirely his own, just as you now dreamt of things of your own these days.

The scarring across his abdomen ran deep; blade marks, puncture wounds, the distinct pattern of claws. As you ran your fingers over each one, they burned around the edges. Once upon a time, after you both finally had time to sit and relax after the world finished falling apart, you had asked him for some of the stories. Each one was a hero's tale in and of itself and thinking about that made you swoon for him. He was more than The Blade of Frontiers these days, but that didn't mean it was any less a part of him than the day you had met.

You kissed his cheek gently, grateful to share a bed with a man like him.

His lips pursed and eyes creased before opening in small slits to stare at you.

You smiled, something between being cheeky and embarrassed at being caught. "Hello."

"Good morning," Wyll said before realizing that it was still pitch dark. "Or, whatever time it may be."

"Yes, whatever time it is." You kissed his cheek again before moving to his lips and wrapping your hand in his. "You know, I find it unfair how good you look even when you're asleep."

"I apologize for my good fortune."

"An apology isn't enough." With a mischievous smile on your face, you sat up in bed and rolled over to sit on top of him. "If you want forgiveness, you'll have to earn it."

"How could I deny such a request?" he asked as he wove his fingers in between yours and craned his neck so he could stare up at and admire you.

Your back arched as you leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, a light giggle falling from your upturned lips. "My hero."

You leaned your weight against his palms to give yourself the leverage to raise your hips above his. His dick stood proudly beneath your wanting hole, waiting for you to take the initiative and welcome him in.

Slowly, you lowered your hips until the lips of your pussy were kissing the tip of his cock. Then you sunk further until you could feel the delicious stretch of his girth and how it made you bite your own lips to keep from moaning too loudly. It had been far too long since you last felt him in this way.

He squeezed your fingers between his own while his good eye continued to stare at your face. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you hummed. "I'm just adjusting. You're not small enough to go unnoticed, you know."

"I'll decide to take that as a compliment."

"How noble of you. You serve your position well." He was, after all, now his father's successor. You dropped your voice low enough that it sounded like a whispered breath. "If you would allow me to do the same."

You closed your eyes, trying to drown in the pleasure of him. Making love to Wyll was soft and passionate, a fever contained only to you and him and the bed.

Still bracing against him, you raised your hips and began to slowly roll along the length of his cock. Every time he bottomed out inside of you made you want to sing. His powerful gaze left you burning up inside and your legs weak. A part of you wanted to reach out and grab those horns of his just to see if leaning forward against them would give you a better angle to ride him, but the fierceness – the utter tenderness – with which he gripped your hands in his own would not allow it.

In the midst of your passions, he spoke up. "I've been wondering," he bent at the waist, sitting up and causing you to stumble backward slightly in his lap, "if it's time to make an heir."

You gripped tighter onto his hands to steady yourself and braced your feet onto bed behind him to keep your balance. You desperately tried not to think of how he shifted inside of you or how it felt like he had somehow grown even more when he mentioned an heir.

The words he spoke hung heavy in the air while you processed what he'd just said and the meaning behind it. Once you did, however, you could feel your expression soften. "You scoundrel."

"Alas," he smiled with a jovial tone in his voice, "even I have my moments. No man is without his weaknesses."

"Oh? I make you weak?"

"As well as give me strength." He pulled your hand close and laid a kiss against your knuckles. "I could ask for no better partner."

"Nor could I." With burning cheeks, you leaned forward as best as you could to rest against his shoulder. "Go slowly. This position can be… strenuous," was the world you settled on, "and I wouldn't want to have to stop before we have a chance."

He pulsed inside of you. "I shall do my best." Even if it would be difficult to restrain himself with a partner like you.

[originaltyphoonkryptonite]

Chapter 5: Shopping With Artemis Is Never A Good Idea

Zella pov

It's been a few days since the incident with Brandon. Artemis wanted to take me shopping since she heard about what happened. She made Wally work at the store under Gus' watch. She then took me to the mall saying I need a 'girl's day out'. I didn't see the point since I already have the wedding dress. Gus was waiting for the big day so he already had it ordered and in my size too. Grandpas are Grandpas I suppose. My watch was fixed after the Luthor thing but Bruce, Dick, and Damian all refused to let me have it. Instead Lucius has it to study it to make one that won't hurt me when I use it.

We made it to the mall and just start walking around. She soon spots a store and we head in. That was the pattern for a bit.

"I know exactly where we should go next.", Artemis says with a smirk as we exited a store.

"Where?", I asked slightly scared of that smirk.

"You'll see.", she says taking my arm and dragging me through the mall.

~Tiny Time-skip~

"Why?", I ask in fear as I look at the store in front of us.

"Because it is something any girl needs with her honeymoon coming up soon.", she replies with an evil like smirk.

She starts to drag me into the the store of embarrassment.

She has me sitting in a chair as she looks through the racks. Once she finds something she makes a small pile. Once she seemed satisfied by it, she takes the pile, puts it in my arms and pushes me into the changing room.

"Why do I have to do this?", I asked through the curtain while staring at the....things she wanted me to try on.

"Because your honeymoon is coming up."

"...", I didn't say anything out of embarrassment.

"Besides.....I'm pretty sure you barely have any nice ones left."

"I have none."

"Wow. You and Dick must have been going at it."

"We haven't gotten to that step yet..."

She was silent and that scared me. Suddenly she bursts through the curtain with more of those things but in the color blue. She places them down next to me and starts looking through them. Once she found what she was looking for she turned around and faced me.

"We need to change that.", she says with a smirk as she holds up one that barely even looked put together. It just looked like pieces of blue lace.

"Wait what?!"

~Time-Skip~

"I can't believe that she talked me into this.", I think to myself as I took a shower. She had bought a few of those items from Victoria's Secret. How she got a set in the exact shade of Dick's eye color I'll never know.

"My wedding is 3 months away."

I sigh as I turned the water off and step out of the shower. I dry myself off and and start to get ready for a date I had with Dick tonight. My hair was brushed and I only put on lip-gloss.  The dress I was wearing hide the undergarments but still flattered my figure. The set I was wearing was one that Arty said 'There's no way he'll be able to resist.'. The simple but elegant dress I was wearing was a nice shade of blue. I must admit, blue is starting to become my favorite color.

I was putting on the finale touches which were my heels, when I heard the door being knocked on. I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder. I open the door and there is Dick. He smiles when he sees me. He was wearing a jacket that went well with his dress shirt and black pants. He was also wearing black shoes. He skipped the tie this time.

"Ready to go?", he asks as she offers an arm.

"Just let me lock up.", I said as I close the door.

We head to a fancy restaurant and wait to be seated. The hostess soon lead us to our table in the back. I smiled as he helped me sit and he walked to his seat. The waiter soon walked up to us and took our orders.

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

Dick pov

The meal was going well and she seemed to be enjoying herself. Once we were done I quickly snag the bill because I know she would offer to pay for it. Not to mention she payed for the last time we went out even though it was just at the diner.

I walk her out like a gentleman and we started our way home. About a few feet from home, a group of three men decided it would be a good idea to target us. They force us into an alley and Zell quickly hid into my side. I made sure I was shielding her.

"It doesn't have to be like this fellas.", I said with a forced smile.

"Maybe if you hand over your wallet and the girl, we might let you past.", the leader says.

"I don't think so.", I said pulling her into my side.

Turns out there were one more man and he grabs Zell. She tries to squirm out of his grip but he wouldn't budge. I quickly punch the guy and he let's her go. He is down for the count.

The leader started to pull a gun but didn't get too far. Nighthound pounced from a shadow and pinned him down. He was in between his normal size and his large size. He opens his mouth to show off his fangs and let drool drop on the guy's face. The other men freeze then start to run and Zella used her shadows to grab them and bring them back. Nighthound let the leader go to go into a shadow and I tie them up and then called the police to come pick them up.

We use a shadow to travel to Zell's apartment. She turns around to get some water and that is when I noticed something. Her dress was ripped in the back and well.....my mind went blank. Last thing I heard clearly was Cippia going towards a shadow and slipping through.

[yourmidnightlover]

niagara falls pt.2

TW: smut, titty sucking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, and a bit of discussion about feelings and mushy gushy stuff

Summary - spencer uses this time to partially make up for his words to you, and you discuss your future with him.

WC - 3,838

you don’t rly need to read pt 1 to understand this... just know spencer’s making up for some things he said to you before you ran away to travel for a while.

masterlist

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

"you're still wearing my sweater," spencer said as he met your collarbone with his antics, pushing it slightly off your shoulder so he had more room to work.

"i uhh- i am wea-wearing your sweater," you huffed out, your hand trailing back to his neck so you could pull him to your lips.

you both moved with a fervent you weren't aware you had until now. his hands moved from your waist to your jaw, tracing every inch of your body to commit it to memory.

"it looks better on you," he said against your lips, his hands moving down your back to your thighs, lifting them so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

"spencer!" you giggled at his sudden eagerness as he walked the two of you over to the bed, gently laying you down.

you started to remove the sweater yourself, only for spencer to stop you with his hands covering yours at the hem of his shirt.

"let me... please," he said before you nodded. he slowly drug the fabric up and off your torso, you leaned up so you could throw it over your head. "i've wanted to see you like this for as long as i can remember," he hummed before connected your lips once again, his hands finding your now bare waist underneath him, admiring how the white lace contrasted with your skin.

"please, spencer," you begged as your hips began to buck up, looking for any source of friction.

"i'm taking my time, princess," he moved a strand of hair out of your face softly. "let me worship you like you deserve," he whispered, wanting to take this moment as slow as he could as to make sure it's real.

he began kissing down your neck again, sucking on your collarbone to surely leave any marks he could. his mouth trailed down your body, meeting the tops of your breasts. he reached his arms around you to make contact with the clasp, looking into your eyes for approval.

"is this what you want?"

"yes. i-i want this... so much," you announced, allowing him to unclasp your bra and connect his lips with your breast.

he kissed the top slowly, going all around one of them while his hand began gently massaging the other. his tongue traced your nipple before his lips wrapped around it, sucking lightly. your hands found his hair and shoulder as he kept up this pattern with alternating between each breast, massaging and kissing and sucking.

the room began to fill with your moans and angelic noises, spencer found himself wishing he would live in this beautiful moment forever. you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a moan from him this time, the vibrations carrying through to your chest.

"oh my god, spence," you praised. "i-it feels so good," you began to feel the pit of pleasure building in your stomach, much to your surprise.

you had heard about women who could orgasm from nipple stimulation, but you had never had a partner who was even willing to try. now you were rather curious...

"d-don't stop. please, please, please don't stop!" you begged as his free hand began massaging the breast his lips were working on.

your back arched off the bed, your hands pulled spencer impossibly close to your body, wanting to feel every inch of him against you. you felt spencer smiling against your breast but you didn't even care, the wave of pleasure rushing over you and hitting you like a cyclone.

"spencer! yes! fuuckk!" you yelled, still coming down from your high as spencer lead you through it.

"wow, y/n," spencer awed as he made his way back up your body. "i didn't know you'd be able to do that," he said with a smug grin on his face.

"i didn't either," you huffed out. "i mean, i've never really tried, but i had no idea."

"i'm glad i'm the one that figured it out with you then," he relished. "i'm going to be entirely focused on you... and your pleasure today," spencer admitted.

"why?" you were baffled at the admission.

you had been with two other guys sexually, and you could say that neither of them had ever been so... generous as to let you be the focus of attention. let alone give you more than one orgasm.

"did you seriously just ask me why?" he questioned. "let's just think of this as the beginning of my apology," he smirked, looking into your eyes with both lust and endearment.

"am i one lucky lady or what?" you giggled, a small grin plastered on your face caused by the man in front of you. "but what if i want to... help you out?"

"oh believe me..." he chuckled. "you're more than helping me out by just laying there... looking how you look," he smiled, eyeing your body up and down.

"okayyy," you rolled your eyes. "whatever you say, genius."

"good. because that's how this is going to work right now," he said, his personality switching to that of a dominant one.

his hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants. you lifted your hips to help him take them off. when he noticed your choice of white lace underwear, he found himself wishing he hadn't taken your bra off.

"fuck, y/n," he sighed out, absolutely smitten with everything about you. "it's like you're trying to kill me." he announced before making his lips attach to your torso, trailing down.

you didn't know what he was doing at first. to you, he was just kissing your stomach. but then you realized that he was trailing down to your heat, you got nervous.

"y-you don't have to uhm... do that," you said, leaning up on your forearms to see him more clearly.

"you mean..." he placed his hands on your lace clad hips, you nodded. "princess, i've dreamt of how you'd taste on my tongue. i'm not missing out on that now," he practically demanded.

if you truly didn't want to do that, you knew spencer would stop. you just didn't want him to do something he didn't want.

"oh, uhm... okay," you agreed, rather eager of how this would feel for you.

"has nobody ever eaten you out before?" he questioned. you pursed your lips together and bit your bottom one before shaking your head no. "the guys you've been with must be absolutely insane. are you okay if i do that?" you nodded your head yes. "words, princess," he moved his hand to cup your face. "i need words."

"yes. yes it's okay if you... eatmeout," you blushed at the admission.

"thank god," he laughed before slowly pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them off the bed.

he spread your bent legs so he could place himself between them, his arms wrapped around your thighs and meeting back around your heat, spreading your pussy lips.

"fuuck... your pussy's so fucking pretty," he said, a finger trailing up your soaking slit. "and wet," he smirked.

your head leaned back as your body was still propped up on your forearms, a small moan leaving your mouth from the little contact he's made.

when your head tilted back up, he made eye contact with you as his tongue made a flat swipe up your pussy, collecting some of your juices.

"mmmm," you moaned, already enjoying the feeling of his tongue on your body.

"i could say the same, princess," he smiled widely. "you taste better than any meal i've had in ages," he admitted a with a grin before focusing on you again.

he pushed his tongue into your hole gently, tasting the inside of you, going in and out in a pattern before moving his tongue further up. he flicked it over your clit, over and over and over, your moans vibrating out into the room only spurring him on even more.

your hand found his hair, pushing him closer to your heat, your hips moving in a way to get more friction. he wrapped his lips around your clit before gently sucking it between his teeth, his tongue still moving back and forth over it.

"yes! just like that! yes!!" you exclaimed, your hand still pushing him closer to you.

he moved one of his hands from around your thighs and slowly entered a finger to your heat, sending your head flying back in pleasure.

"fuck!"

he began pushing his finger in and out of your pussy, curling them once they entered about two inches, adding another after he felt you were ready.

"right there! right fucking there, spencer! yes!" you cried out, tugging gently on his curls, a moan rippling through his body right onto your clit. "i'm so close! i'm so fucking close! please don't stop! please..." you trailed off as he became more aggressive in his actions.

he began pumping his fingers in and out at an impossible pace, still curling them at that soft rigid spot inside you. his tongue began flicking even quicker, sending you right over the edge into a pit of euphoria, your pussy clenching around his long fingers.

"spencer fucking reid! yes!!" you threw your head back as his eyes never left your face. "oh my god..." you said as he worked you through your orgasm.

you leaned up completely, looking at him in complete awe from how the man just made you feel. you placed your hands on both sides of his face, crashing his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on him as your tongues met.

when he pulled back, he wiped his chin from your juices and sucked them off of his fingers, never breaking eye contact from you.

"yea they were really missing out on that," spencer said with a wide grin.

"i think i've been missing out. and i'm also very aware about how... naked i am and how clothed you are," you raised your eyebrows suggestively. spencer just stared at you. "please, babes?" you asked with puppy dog eyes and pursed lips. spencer's heart welled at the nickname.

"since you asked so nicely," he said, connecting you lips once more as your arms went to his chest, beginning to unbutton hit shirt one by one. when you got halfway down, you felt his breath hitch, he was nervous.

"spencer... what is it?" you pulled back slowly, looking into his eyes. he began to close himself off, not looking you in the eyes. "you're feeling insecure," you stated, your hands finding his face again to meet his eyes with yours. "you, spencer walter reid, are the most attractive man i've probably ever laid eyes on. your eyes, your lips," you kissed him. "your hair," you ran a hand through his locks. "and your body," you traced his torso with your hands feather lightly.

"i'm just... not as muscular as your past boyfriends. i don't... i don't look like other guys you've been with," he sighed, looking back at his hands in his lap.

"spencer. you just made me orgasm twice in the past what? twenty minutes?" you baffled. "my past boyfriends have had trouble making me do that even once. you... are unbelievable," you complimented, ending it with a deep kiss. "besides, even if you were the ugliest guy on earth, i'd still love you and be attracted to you because you're you."

"thank you, y/n. i love you, too," he kissed the tip of your nose. "now... back to you," he said, placing a hand on the small of your back to lay you down, him hovering over you.

"such a gentleman," you said, finishing undoing his buttons as he shrugged the shirt off. "absolutely beautiful, spence."

it's not like you haven't seen his body before. you've been best friends for as long as you could remember and have seen him in nothing but a towel before. then again, you haven't seen him like that in this kind of setting before.

and spencer knows you don't care about that. he knows that you'd never judge him from his looks or his body, but he wants to be good enough for you, which is a major contradiction to the fact that he believes that nobody will ever deserve you.

he began fervently kissing you again, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that couldn't ever be satiated. your hands traced the stubble on his face as his were propped at your head to keep him from falling over. you moved one of your hands to begin undoing the button on his pants eagerly, a chuckle emitting from him.

once you got it undone, he helped you pull both his pants and underwear down, leaving his bare erection against your thigh.

"oh," you said with a sly grin, a hand reaching down to begin stroking his length, a low moan leaving his mouth as your lips found his.

you quickly rolled the two of you over to put yourself on top. you straddled his hips on all fours, trailing kisses down his cheek, jaw, neck, torso, making your way to his rock hard cock.

you took his length in your hands, eyeing the noticeable length to it. he was perfect. he was long, but not too long to where it would kill you to take him, and thick, but not so thick that he would stretch you beyond belief.

you placed a gentle kiss to the tip which was already leaking with precum. you found the most prominent vein in his member before tracing it with your tongue, being sure to use light touches.

spencer was already squirming in the bed, in disbelief from the wonders your mouth could do already. lowly sighs and moans were leaving his mouth periodic with your movements.

you slowly lowered your mouth on his cock, paying special attention to the tip as you got further down. you moved your mouth up and down at a slow pace, keeping your eyes on spencer and how beautiful he looked with his slower breaths.

eventually, he couldn't stand just being inside your mouth. he wanted to be even closer to you. inside of you. he took hold of your jaw and pulled you back up his body, taking your lips in his.

"you're fucking amazing," spencer sighed into your mouth, taking note of the smile he felt against his own lips.

"yea?" he nodded as he smashed your lips together again before flipping the two of you over. you grabbed his hard cock and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you want this?" spencer asked with care, stroking the hair on the side of your face.

"yes. yes i want it," you nodded eagerly.

spencer slowly entered his member into you, taking pleasure from the way your face contorted in pleasure. he took his time to fully sheath himself into you, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his length.

you moved one hand to his shoulder and the other to the back of his head as your mouth formed in the shape of an 'o'.

"oh my god, spencer," your fingernails dug into the skin on his back as your other hand tugged on his hair harshly.

"fuck... you're tight, princess," he said as he began to slowly move out of you, only leaving the tip in before thrusting back inside, leading a moan from your mouth.

"i-i..." you trialed off, unable to speak from the pleasure you were feeling. "i... ohh,"" you mumbled.

"does it feel good? yea?" he asked you, one of his hands grasping your breast and massaging it gently. you couldn't say anything, you were speechless. you laid there with your mouth ajar as his thrusts continued at a leisurely pace. "can you not say anything? does my dick render you speechless, princess?" he teased.

"uh... huh," you squeaked as his mouth latched onto your nipple, his pace steadily increasing. "s-spen... ohhhh," you awed, feeling the pit in your stomach welling up again.

"fuck you feel so good," he mumbled on your breast as his hand began to gently and quickly circle your clit.

so many things were going on at once; the clitoral stimulation, the penetration, the nipple stimulation. you felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure rising up inside of you.

before you knew it, you were falling over the waterfall of pure ecstasy, taking spencer over the water with you.

spencer continued his thrusts a few more times, relishing in the way your pussy clenched around his member. you felt the spread of his own excitement cover your walls, a sensation you never want to forget as long as you lived.

"fuck..." spencer breathed out.

"mmhmm," you agreed, still unable to form a sentence from the pleasure you just experienced.

spencer slowly pulled out of you, trying his best not to hurt your still sensitive body. you held onto his torso, not wanting to separate your body from his.

"i'm going to carry you to the bathroom to clean you up. okay, princess?" spencer asked kindly, wiping your hairline that had a sheen of sweat built up.

"mmkay," you mumbled, wrapping your legs around him so he could pick you up koala style.

he set you down on the closed toilet, being sure to grab a clean washcloth and get it damp with warm water. he bent down on the floor in front of you, allowing your hands to grasp his shoulders for more stability.

he ran the washcloth over the trail of liquid running down your legs, being sure to use a gently touch once he got closer to your core. he ran the cloth over it softly, noticing the way your fingers dug into his back from the touch, the low hiss that exited through your nose.

"sorry, y/n/n. we just need to make sure you're all clean," he apologized, pulling back to look into your tired eyes. "uhm, you should probably use the restroom in order to avoid getting a uti," spencer informed you.

"never change, spencer reid. never change," you giggled, taking a deep breath in order to help your breathing. "and you're very right about those uti's. i should really go pee now," you looked into his eyes, him still not moving. "which means privacy, spence," you giggled, once again, noticing the smile that appeared onto his face.

"right," he laughed, patting your knee before standing back up and exiting the bathroom.

you did your business, and washed your hands before exiting the bathroom with a smile. you walked out of the bathroom, finding spencer in nothing but his boxers, sitting on the bed. you walked over to the bed and sat on spencer's lap, your knees bent and placed on the bed, straddling his legs.

spencer's arms hugged your torso, his eyes tried to avoid your still naked state. your hands went around his body, underneath his arms and bringing him into a tight hug.

"i'm sorry i ran away, spence. i should've talked to you about how that made me feel," you whispered into his ear.

"no, you shouldn't be sorry. i'm sorry. i knew about you past and i still said those thing to you," spencer sighed as his arms grip slightly tightened on you. "you drank because of me, y/n. i-i can't ever tell you how sorry i am for that."

"i know you're sorry, spence. i know," you breathed in his scent, relishing in the smell of sex and fresh laundry that remained on him. "maybe we could go to niagara falls together tomorrow?" you leaned back to look him in the eyes, taking note of his smile. "y'know, since we originally wanted to go to these places together anyway?"

"i uhm," spencer laughed, "i would love to, y/n."

"yaayyy!" you squealed, connecting your lips together passionately, managing to knock spencer over, him now laying on the bed. "i'm excited!!"

"me too. i can't wait," he smiled, moving a strand of your hair out of your face.

spencer still couldn't believe you loved him. he couldn't believe how lucky he was. you were perfect in every way, shape, and form.

the way you knew that after a tough case, he wouldn't want to talk about it. you would just hold him, and let him fall asleep on his chest.

the way you laughed at his terrible jokes, even if you didn't fully understand it. you tried your best to make him feel normal, and you succeeded in making him feel normal.

the way you listened to his rambling when he found something fascinating. you would always go up to him after the rest of the team shushed him, and asked him to continue what he was saying.

and your beauty was unprecedented to him. your bone structure that looked magnificent in every kind of light, every curve on your body - even the ones you were insecure about, the squinting of your eye when you laugh... everything.

"you okay, smartypants?" you asked, rolling off of his body and laying beside him. you propped your arm up so your head could rest in your hand as you looked at spencer.

"yea, i'm all good," the brown haired man said, turning to face you on his side. he draped his hand over your waist, bringing your body closer to his. "i'm just glad i'm here with you."

"i'm glad you're here too," you smiled, hugging him in return. "can we go to sleep now? i'm too tired to do anything right now," you giggled.

it was now dark outside, your hotel room window being able to display the darkness in a way that made it look like a beautiful painting. it was full of bright stars of different hues, pink, gold, and white, the moon shone into the window, perfectly illuminating the sculptures of the buildings outside the room.

"of course we can. anything you want, bubs," he grinned brightly. "i have one request to make," he began with a sly smile.

"you wanna lay on my chest?" you chuckled as he nodded eagerly. you opened your arms for him to lay on you. "come here, ya big baby."

spencer snuggled up into your arms, your bare chest acting like the best pillows in the world in his mind. you ran your hands through his hair as he nuzzled further into your embrace.

"do you think it'll be like this when we get back home?" spencer asked with a sense of yearning.

"umm, i don't know," and you didn't know. you didn't know if this is what life would be like with him. you didn't know if you were even ready for a life with him. "it could be, i suppose," you shrugged.

spencer picked up on the nerves the question brought you. the way your breath picked up and your heart rate sped slightly.

"i-is this what you want? u-us, i mean?" he wearily asked, afraid of what your answer might be.

"i've loved you for a long time, spence," you took a deep breath. "i just wish we didn't have to worry about the bureau or about the team and what they'd think."

"so let's not care what they think. we love each other... shouldn't that be enough?"

"it is enough. i promise," you kissed the top of his forehead. "i do want us."

"good," spencer smiled against your body. "goodnight, y/n. i love you."

"i love you."

[qyrhan]

D'Tan x Reader

(Snowed In Shuttlecraft)

Part One

Frantic alarms blasted on virtually every system available to you, your ears ringing from the blaring klaxon of the ship going into Red-alert. The bulkheads surrounding you reverberated as you were assaulted by wave after wave of plasma beam fire.

“Shields are holding,” you reported aloud, noting one of your would-be assassin’s port nacelle billowing a thick, black smog.

“Barely,” your passenger mused as he hurriedly redirected auxiliary power to the shuttle's battered shields, “another blow like that and we might not survive long enough to get off-world.”

You bit back the urge to send a look his way; giving glares to a diplomat wasn't exactly praise-worthy behavior, especially not to this particular one.

Blasts to the starboard side jostled the entire shuttle, which deterred you from inputting commands as quickly as you wanted. “We’re not gaining any ground.” You growled out through gritted teeth. “I'm switching to attack pattern beta. If I can just–”

Sparks flew, and the world spun out in a whirlwind as the small Tiercel-class began to plummet to the rocky surface below. Static filled the viewscreen far too long for your comfort before you could compensate for the atmospheric interference.

“Why did it have to be T’Varo warbirds,” you sneered to yourself, “they could've played fair this once, but no, no they had to use T’Varo warbirds.” You braced as you felt the shuttlecraft fight your every attempt at correcting course, frustration and stress building as you received yet another proximity alert.

“Look’s like they've brought new friends,” you remarked stiffly, “I hope they don't get disappointed when they realize we're not dead.”

D’Tan gave you a fleeting glance, his expression taut while he moved to try and fix the viewscreen. Perhaps cynicism wasn't the best attitude to have in this situation. “We’re going to have to make due with long-range sensors for now,” he huffed, “we’re flying blind.”

“Wonderful.” You growled out as you were alerted to a volley of plasma fire headed your way. At this point, the holographic diagram from D’Tan’s continued sensor sweep, and your quick responses to his warnings, were the only things keeping you both alive.

“They're trying to corner us.” D’Tan pointed out.

“Is there any way we can cloak at this distance?”

“No, Captain. We aren't far enough for a successful cloak; we would be defenseless.”

You furrowed your brows, your expression knit into a look of irritation. You were fighting a losing battle and you knew it. If you couldn't find a place to duck into immediately, the only traces left of you and your shuttle would be burning debris on a P-class moon.

“Captain,” the proconsul turned towards you, “I'm picking up a cave formation on the surface below. Long-range sensors indicate it's large enough for a shuttle this size.”

“Why do I feel like there's bad news you haven't gotten to yet?”

You saw him shrink back a bit before he answered. “Well, there is also an ion storm forming in that same area. Which means we can either deal with the immediate threat of the Tal’Shiar pursuing us, or we head into an ion storm that is potentially just as deadly.”

Neither of those options were appealing to you in the slightest, but they were the only options you had at your disposal. Communication with your ship was cut off long before the skirmish you had gotten into began, so sending a distress signal would be impossible, especially through the moon’s dense atmosphere. On the other hand, any attempt to retaliate against your attackers would no doubt end up in your untimely deaths.

You were cornered.

“You always seem to get me into the most exciting situations, captain. It’s a shame we’ll have to miss the summit.” D’Tan quipped. A small smile was on his face, though you assumed that was forced, given your current position.

You pursed your lips. Was he joking right now? He was– unfortunately–correct. You did seemingly get him into the most dangerous circumstances possible. Thinking about how many times he almost got killed due to merely being near you made you grimace despite yourself.

“We’ll have to deal with the cave for now.” You remarked while piloting the craft through extensive, threatening gray clouds. “I highly doubt they'll follow us, and the interference from the density of ions alone will block their sensors.”

“While that is true, it will also block our any attempt to scan the near vicinity,” D’Tan warned. “They can't see us, we can't see them.”

You nodded, knowing full well that you could be going into something you might not come back out of. “Entering the lower atmosphere now. I'm getting heavy resistance from the helm, but we’ll be passing into the cave shortly.”

“I’ll start with repairs then,” D’Tan stood from his seat beside you, “we’ll need to be in good working order if we’re going to even try getting off this moon.”

You quirked a brow. “Sir, with all due respect, I'm fully capable of beginning the repairs on my own once we've landed.”

All you got in return was an unamused huff. That caused you risk a glance behind you momentarily, only for you to be met with the sight of deck plating already being pushed aside and tools being utilized. He didn't lie when he said he was going to do something, even if you objected to it. “Sir–”

“You just focus on piloting, captain. I'll focus on keeping every other system we have online from failing.” He waved at you dismissively.

You mulled over that for a while as you compiled. Being stranded together was going to be a long ordeal for both of you.

[nuttynutcycle]

I just discovered your blog, and I'm in LOVE with your writing! I'm completely obsessed with Familiar, so if it's not to much to ask, could you write a continuation? Thank you so much, your snippets and prompts are greatly appreciated!!

Familiar - Pt 2

First part here

On a scale of one to ten, this was either a -2 or a 12 on the good idea scale. Hero double-checked the address Villain had sent her before looking back at the tiny house. The paint was peeling, steps were rotting and that roof was definitely of the leaking sort. Somehow, she had expected Villain to live on the rich side of town.

When he had invited her over to work on their assignment, her thoughts had been torn between screaming trap and find some evidence. The second side won. If there wasn’t anything in there to prove who Villain really was… Well, she’d have to find another way of getting proof to show the authorities. She knocked and noted the cracked windows to her side. After a few seconds, Villain opened the door.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it. Come on in.” He led her down the musty hall towards a suspiciously normal bedroom. “Thanks again for making the trek all the way over here. My mom hasn’t been doing too well recently, and I’m trying not to leave her alone for too long.”

“Of course, I get it.” Hero let her eyes trail over the spartan room. The only furniture was a bed and two chairs beside a fold-up table covered with books and scribblers. Funny, the number of times Villain escaped from her with stolen cash made her think he’d at least have better furniture. Or a safe to put the money in. Maybe it was hiding in the closet? Although in this neighbourhood, keeping money lying around might not be the brightest idea. “It’s good that you’re taking care of her.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze and moving his stuff from the table to the floor. “Hopefully, this next surgery will be the one that works.”

“Yeah, it’s tough watching people you love go through painful things. My sister has a heart problem right now, and it’s terrifying to watch her energy come and go.” Shut up! Stop telling him personal things. “Yeah.” She finished lamely.

Their gazes locked in understanding. Hero was the first to break away. “Ready to start the pain?”

They worked on the assignment in silence for a while. Honestly, there was probably a special punishment designed for whoever invented assignments over ten pages long. This just wasn’t fair. Hero sat back, running a hand through her hair. “I think this is karma's way of punishing me for not reading the textbook.”

His lips quirked. “There’s a textbook for this class? That would’ve been helpful to know at the start of the semester.”

“Want to know how tired I was at the beginning of the semester? I can’t even remember choosing my classes,” she pulled a hand down her face. “I think I just closed my eyes and pointed at the screen.”

“You could have been in differential calculus. Or worse, accounting.”

“Or Phys Ed. Did you know our university has a course devoted to badminton?”

Villain laughed. “What a racket. To think, I could have spent time swinging my arm around and gotten credit for it.”

“But then you’d be missing out on the glories of this assignment.”

“And a friend.”

Oh nope. Big nope. Wait, Hero reconsidered. Were they friends?  They did chat after class and had studied a few times together, but that didn’t mean- wait. Huh. Time to deflect with awkward humour and process these feelings later. “I thought you saw me as a role model, but that’s cool too. I’ll just have to find a new lackey.”

“And here I thought you were friends with me for my brilliance and good looks.”

She felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Yep, it’s all for your looks. If you seduce our professor, then we don’t have to do this assignment anymore.”

Villain rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seduced a professor before. Would I have to wear a sweater vest?”

“And a tweed jacket. It’s the only way.” Her fingers twitched, and she was suddenly very aware of him. The light hitting his hair, the way his lips curled when he was amused… Bad, very bad. This is your official ABORT MISSION alert. Find some evidence on the dangerous criminal and get out of there. She cleared her throat. “I’m parched. Could I get some water?”

Villain nodded, standing and leaving the room. Hero leapt out of the chair the moment the door shut behind him.  Her eyes latched on the only place one could hide anything in the sparse room - the closet. She yanked it open, feeling her heart speed up at the sound of Villain opening a cupboard in the kitchen and turning on the tap.

The closet was small and impressively dull. Clothes and boxes littered the tiny  shelves, with no signs of the files or weapons she was looking for. A flap of a familiar fabric dangling from one of the top boxes caught her eye. Bingo. Hero gingerly reached to feel the consistency, making sure she wasn’t wrong before bringing the authorities in, and accidentally bumped an elbow against the side of the closet. The box plummeted from its precarious placement and met the ground with a thump. No! She scrambled to pick up the box and the spilled-out uniform when a movement behind made her pause.

Villain stood in the doorway, hand clenched around a glass of water. His eyes darted to the clothes on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

Hero’s throat went dry. She tightened her grip on the clothes and tried to look surprised. “S-something fell in your closet, so I opened it to check what it was.”

“Huh,” Villain said. “That’s unfortunate.”

He knelt, gently taking his outfit from her hands and placing it back in the box. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“Clearly.”  Hero swallowed and prepared to run if he attacked. Worst case scenario, she had beat him before and could do it again. Theoretically. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know.” A familiar calculation crept across his face, making her hands shake. Villain sat across from her and blocked the only exit, placing the cup of water between them. She felt trapped against the closet.

“You know, if this had happened a month ago, I would have killed you without a second thought,” he said mildly. “Guess you’re lucky.”

A horrifying reminder that she was not dealing with her awkward classmate anymore. “What are you going to do instead?”

Villain shrugged, seeming far too calm for the situation. “I don’t know yet. Talk, I guess?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Hero said, lying through her teeth.

“Unfortunately, I’m too old to believe the promises of others so easily.” He trailed his fingers through the thin carpet, tracing patterns through the material. “Even yours. The stakes are just too high.”

“What’s even worth all the stealing and destruction?” she asked quietly. “Why do you do it? “

The  fingers paused. “It started out as one job. My mom needed treatment, and we didn’t have the money to pay for it. Then one treatment turned into two.” He shook his head. “Before I knew it, I was on the city’s most-wanted list.”

Her shoulders tensed. “Will you stop when the treatments are finished?”

“There have been other benefits to criminal activity.” Villain ducked his head, cheeks turning pink. “Lots of amazing people to meet. I haven’t decided yet.”

She leaned against the wall beside the closet, feeling safer with something solid against her back. “I don’t know if meeting people through crime is worth a lifetime in jail.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You’d be surprised.”

Hero picked up the forgotten water sitting between them and drank, if nothing else than for the excuse to avoid responding.

His fingers trailed larger patterns in the carpet. “I never wanted you to find out- this is one of the first friendships I’ve made since I started university. I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want you getting hurt, but this does put me in a tight position. I won’t let you inform the authorities.”

Hero pressed her back further against the wall.

Villain took one look at her wide eyes and softened his tone. “Just don’t tell. If I get one inkling that you’re about to turn me in, then..." he sighed. "Please don’t make me choose between you and my mom.”

He would know it was her. Hero didn’t think she could after this. Or fight him, knowing it was for his mom’s medical bills. She pursed her lips, making a highly regrettable split-second decision. “Alright. But only on one condition: you stop once her treatments are done.”

He twitched. “I told you, I haven’t decided yet-”

“I’m making the decision for you.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. "Deals are much easier to trust than promises.”

“No. I’d miss-” Villain stopped, clenching his jaw. “I can’t let certain people from that life go yet.”

Something clicked. The girl he liked was from his criminal life… Oh gosh, Hero probably knew her. The brunette villain from the southside? The redheaded weapons supplier? Stop getting distracted.

“I trust you. Give it up as soon as you can.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “For me.” That was even worse. Was it possible to die from a foot in your mouth?

Villain relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah. It’s a deal.” He stuck out a hand and Hero grasped it, shaking firmly and ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest. So like, a 5 on the good idea scale.

@revrevrew-personal @spruceandpine @sailor-cat2 @literally-just-kirby @emerqlds @chaoticgoodandu @notsocharmingmagician @flying-paperboat @touchedbyanerdyotaku

[charincharge]

"Maybe if I stab you, you'll understand what I'm feeling like right now" - for the period one

I Don’t Want To Wait, eighth grade

rowaelin high school bff au: past-take masterlist

AN: Another holiday, another past-take. Enjoy this super sweet ride back to eighth grade with our two favorite idiots. And have a very Happy Valentine’s Weekend! xoxo, Char

Excitement rippled through the halls of Orynth Middle School as the eighth graders gathered their valentines from their lockers and headed to the pick-up circle for the end of the day. A steady stream of whispers flowed through the halls, discussing their big evening plans. It was the grade’s first boy/girl party, and everyone was talking about it — whether they’d been invited or not. It was being thrown by a new student, who’d just transferred schools from Eyllwe. Nehemia was stunningly beautiful with her rich brown skin and long braids clasped in ornate gold accessories, coming into eighth grade with an air of sophistication and worldliness that had everyone clamoring for her attention. And apparently she thought the best way to make friends was to throw an exclusive Valentine’s Day party in her family’s rented house on the outskirts of Terrasen.

Anyone who was anyone had been invited, and though Aelin would never admit it, she was relatively surprised when she’d opened her mailbox last week and found the invitation waiting for her. Surprised, but thrilled.

“What are you going to wear?” Lysandra asked. “What does ‘festive casual’ even mean?”

“Red?” Rowan piped in, shoving his gloved finger into Aelin’s shoulder. “You look good in red, Ace.”

“I do look good in red,” Aelin smiled, hoping that the blush that rose to her cheeks would be hidden by her already flushed skin, red from the cold February winds.

Aelin was grateful that her two closest friends would also be there tonight. She couldn’t imagine being brave enough to go to a party without Lysandra or Rowan.

Lys flicked her chestnut hair dramatically over her shoulder, sighing loudly. “I look fine in red, but I look way better in green.” She pursed her lips. “I do have that pink top I got over Christmas,” Lysandra added thoughtfully.

“The low cut one?” Aelin gasped, remembering the sparkly pink top Lysandra had purchased on a whim. She only remembered it because she’d tried on the same one in blue and had put it back immediately, deeming it much too revealing to feel comfortable in. Though she guessed she didn’t have anything to show off in that particular department quite yet.

A wicked grin appeared on Lysandra’s face as she shrugged. “Some of us are going to try and get kissed tonight.”

Aelin tried her very hardest not to look in Rowan’s direction at the mention of kissing, but she couldn’t help it. She let her blue eyes slide to his face, and she watched as his cheeks paled, staring at her in horror, his jaw tensing as he breathed in deeply.

“There’s going to be kissing at this party?”

“What did you think was going to happen?” Lysandra laughed at Rowan’s discomfort, and Aelin watched as his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up as if he’d just smelled something terrible. “Don’t you have someone you want to kiss?”

Aelin’s heart thumped erratically in her chest, waiting for him to answer Lysandra’s question with an annoyingly hopeful heart.

“What?” Rowan asked, scrunching his nose further. “No. No way.”

“What about you, Aelin?” Lysandra asked, and Aelin opened her mouth to answer, wondering what she was going to say; it’s not like she could tell anyone the real answer. She was infinitely relieved when a car horn beeped in her direction.

Her dad leaned over and waved to her and her friends, and Aelin had never been more grateful to see him than in that moment. She gathered her backpack from the sidewalk and ran to the car without answering her friend.

“See you tonight!” she called out as she entered the warmth of her dad’s sedan.

Her stomach churned as she glanced out the window and saw Rowan’s curious gaze following after her. She buckled her seatbelt and tore her eyes away from his. As if she hadn’t been nervous enough before, now she had to think about kissing?

She took a deep breath and ignored the uncomfortable pang that settled in her stomach. She’d been looking forward to this party all week, and it was going to be amazing. Whether she was kissed or not.

. . .

“Well, you look very pretty, Fireheart,” Rhoe said as Aelin finally came down the stairs. It had taken her two hours to find the perfect outfit, but she finally had. She spun around, feeling incredibly in her red off the shoulder sweater and black skirt. She loved the way it flared around her knees when she spun, showing off the patterned tights she’d pulled from the bottom of her drawer. They were a little snug and pinched at her waist, but it was far too cold to go anywhere with bare legs.

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping a bright red ribbon around her half ponytail.

“You ready to go?” he asked, and she nodded, excited. They made their way to Rowan’s to pick him up, and Aelin couldn’t help but smile as she saw him. He jogged excitedly to the car, making his way into the backseat with Aelin.

“Where’s your red?” Aelin asked, and she could feel her cheeks heat as he shrugged off his thick jacket to reveal a red and white baseball t-shirt underneath. How did Rowan look so cute in everything?

Aelin let her eyes tear away from her handsome best friend to his Aunt, who was approaching the car with a big wave. Rhoe rolled down the window to greet the woman whose long dark hair was curled into smooth waves and her eyes smudged with dark shadow, making her look even more stunning than usual.

“Whoaaa, big date tonight?” Rhoe asked, and Maeve laughed heartily.

“It’s rare I have a Friday night to myself.” She paused. “I am going out to dinner, but don’t worry, I will have my phone on.”

Rhoe smiled as he handed her Aelin’s overnight bag.

“Reminder,” Rhoe said, pointing to the kids in his backseat. “I am at the station tonight, but if you want to leave this party at any time, Maeve will come and get you.”

“Dadddd,” she whined as Maeve nodded effusively. “We’re going to be fine.”

He sighed and patted Aelin’s knee, squeezing it gently. “You’re so big now. You’re practically grown ups.”

“I’m only thirteen,” she laughed.

Rowan sat up taller as he announced, “I’m fourteen.”

“We know,” Maeve laughed. “Have fun, you two. See you at nine.”

Despite her best friend at her side, the drive to Nehemia’s house was long enough for the nerves in Aelin’s stomach, which had previously subsided, to start tumbling around furiously again. She tugged at the waistband of her skirt, giving herself room to breathe a little deeper, but it didn’t help. She kept remembering the word ‘kissing’ and getting nervous all over again. Was she going to kiss someone tonight? Would Rowan? Her stomach clenched uncomfortably at that thought.

“You okay?” Rowan asked, noticing her fidgeting beside him.

“Mhm,” she nodded.

He definitely knew she was lying, but she was grateful he didn’t press her. She didn’t think she’d be able to explain what was causing her so much anguish.

“Wow, nice place…” Rhoe commented as he pulled up the long driveway. Nice was a bit of an understatement. The house was much less a house and more of a castle. Giant windows took up most of the front of the house, showing the thriving party inside. “Have fun!” Rhoe called out to them, but Aeiln was only focused on her breathing. The nerves in her gut had multiplied and exploded, and she was starting to feel like she had a real stomach ache.

Rowan exited the car first, and she was grateful that he reached back and helped her out of the car. She felt unsteady on her feet.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, and Aelin nodded again, relieved that he let her link her arm with his as they made their way into the party.

Inside it was, like, a real party. Aelin struggled to take another breath, looking at the boys and girls dancing closely, backs and fronts pressed against each other with not a millimeter of air between them as hips swayed in time with the music overhead. Grinding. Lysandra had told her the name for that particular dance. People were grinding.

Of course that’s where Lysandra was already, on the dance floor with some boy’s hands placed dangerously low on her hips as they moved together. Aelin gulped. Was she going to have to dance like that? She didn’t think she’d be able to.

“I don’t have to dance, do I?” Rowan asked quietly, and Aelin smiled as she looked over at his panicked face.

“No way,” she said, thinking the exact same thing.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Where do we go first?” Aelin asked, looking to Rowan for guidance, but it was as if his shyness had been activated at the sight of so many people. He shoved his hands into his pockets and his shoulders hunched over as his eyes scanned the crowds of students.

Ugh. He would be no use.

“Aelin!” Aelin gasped as two dark arms wrapped around her shoulders, hugging her tightly and pulling her away from Rowan. “Thank you so much for coming!”

Aelin nodded dumbly at her party host, who smiled widely at the pair who’d just entered her house. She wore a flowy pink top that billowed around her like an ethereal cloud and jeans that looked more expensive than anything Aelin had ever owned. Aelin struggled to say something, but she didn’t have to worry. Nehemia was playing gracious host, explaining the set up to them as she gave them a small guided tour.

“Feel free to join people on the dance floor,” she explained, pointing to the wooden floor that had been set up in the middle of the room. “I think there are a few games going on in the other room, if you’re not up for dancing,” she continued, pointing to the circle of kids on the plush couches on the other side of the hall, hovered around a table. “And we have tons of snacks in the kitchen.”

Aelin could practically hear the relief flow through Rowan as Nehemia led them to her mostly empty kitchen. It was much calmer and quieter without the music blaring overhead, plus… Nehemia might have undersold when she said there were “snacks” available. It looked like the baking display at Maeve’s on special holidays. Despite the uncomfortable band pinching her waist, she couldn’t help but gasp in delight as she saw the spread in the kitchen.

Pink frosted cupcakes were plated by the dozen, surrounded by bowls upon bowls of all kinds of chocolate. Chocolate covered pretzels with red sugar crystals, heart shaped chocolates in beautiful red wrappers, bowls of powder covered truffles…. Aelin licked her lips. She loved chocolate.

“Want something, Ace?” Rowan asked, half laughing because she was certain he already knew the answer.

“Cupcake please!”

Nehemia smiled. “Oh, I’m glad you’re going to take one. We ordered them special from my favorite bakery in Eyllwe,” she told Aelin, and she nodded excitedly, happy that she seemed to have gained approval from the new girl.

She reached for the cupcake in Rowan’s hands and took a large bite immediately. She hummed with happiness as the chocolate cake and strawberry frosting hit her tongue, relishing in the sweetness.

“So good,” she mumbled through the crumbs, earning another smile from Nehemia. She managed to inhale it in about three bites, laughing as Rowan flicked a stray crumb from her nose. “Whoops,” she laughed. Nehemia joined in the laughter but flitted off to welcome her next party guests — an overhead ding announced the front door opening.

“Want to go check out the games?” Rowan asked, and Aelin nodded. Since grinding with Rowan was not an option, games sounded safer.

But as they made their way into the adjacent room, Aelin realized her mistake. A glass bottle spun slowly, making its way around the circle and finally landed on a grinning Dorian Havillard. She felt her stomach tumble as he leaned over the table and pressed his lips against a shy girl in her computer class named Sorscha. Only, she didn’t seem so shy right now. She was kissing Dorian in front of practically her whole class!

Aelin was too afraid to look at Rowan, but out of the corner of her eye she could see him wringing his fingers in front of himself. A sure sign of discomfort.

The crowd cheered as the pair parted, their faces flushed and eyes glowing as Sorscha passed the bottle to a boy on her left. He turned around with a wide smile.

“You two wanna join?” he asked, scooting over to make room for Aelin and Rowan to sit. Umm. No. No they did not. Dancing would be less weird than this.

Aelin’s jaw almost came unhinged as Rowan replied with a quiet, “Sure.”

Sure? SURELY he knew what he was say yes to, right?

Aelin whipped around to look at him, his brow set in a determined line as he glanced back at her. He shrugged, as if to say Why not? And Aelin was positive her face read the thousand reasons why they could not. First, she didn’t want to risk kissing anyone except for Rowan. Second, she didn’t want to see Rowan kiss anyone else, and third, she absolutely didn’t want her first kiss to be in a game of spin the bottle? At a party? In front of all these people?

As Rowan began to sit, Aelin’s stomach flipped again. Like. Really bad. Like, worse than just nerves.

It had to be these tights. They felt like they were squeezing her insides, and now that there was food inside her, it needed to come out immediately. This was not good.

“Uh, does anyone know where the bathroom is?” Aelin asked the circle, avoiding eye contact with Rowan, who had fully sat down now. She knew it wasn’t smart to leave him alone to kiss whoever he wanted, but her stomach did that awful squeezing thing again, and she knew if she waited much longer she’d completely embarrass herself.

“Down the hall and to the right,” Sorscha pointed, and Aelin smiled graciously, ignoring Rowan’s raised brow, seemingly asking her What’s wrong?

“Be right back,” she mumbled, trying to walk calmly down the long hall, despite her insides feeling like they were revolting against her. Luckily, there was no one inside the small powder room, and she was able to slip in and lock the door, quickly divesting herself of her tights as she plopped down onto the toilet.

And that’s when she saw it. The small patch of dark red on the inside of her underwear.

No no no no no. Not now! Anything but this!

She didn’t have any kind of pad to use, and she desperately needed to get back to the game of spin the bottle. But she knew she was stuck.

Her heart pounded and tears stung at the corners of her eyes.

Desperately, she looked around the small bathroom. Surely there had to be something here, right? But as she took in the ornate pedestal sink and scanned the decorative shelves, displaying fancy bottles of perfume and pungent candles, she knew she was out of luck. There was absolutely no place to hide any kind of feminine products in this place.

How could she have been so stupid? It’s not like Aelin didn’t know that this day would come eventually, she just didn’t think it would be this day. Lysandra had gotten her period two years ago! It was so long ago, that Aelin had kind of forgotten that one day it’d happen to her, too. It wasn’t as if Rowan had to deal with anything like this.

Her eyes clouded with unshed tears as she thought of him. He was probably going to end up kissing some amazing girl tonight, and they’d fall in love, and she’d be his girlfriend and then probably wife, and they’d have beautiful children and live happily every after, all because Aelin had to hide inside the bathroom until Maeve came and got them in… she glanced at her phone… two more hours!

Another ripple of pain tightened across her abdomen, and she leaned over, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was useless. She was going to die alone in the powder room of the coolest new girl in school, missing the party that everyone would surely be talking about come Monday.

She had to get back out there. She couldn’t lose Rowan to some random girl in a game of spin the bottle! And why was he so eager to play? Her worry spiraled again as she imagined his future happy life with some nameless faceless girl he kissed. Maybe she could scrunch up some toilet paper and put it in her underwear? At least she was wearing black, so nothing would show if it leaked. But as she was hit with another pang of nausea, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

A knock at the bathroom door startled her, as she cried out, “There’s someone in here!” as confidently as she could while feeling like she was being stabbed in the gut.

“Ace?” The last voice she wanted to hear right now called out. “Are you okay?” Rowan asked. “You’ve been gone for a while.”

“I’m fine!” she called out through clenched teeth.

She could see the shadow of his feet moving on the other side of the door and hoped that meant he’d left her alone, but she knew she wasn’t that lucky.  

“I can call Aunt Maeve to come get us if you’re not feeling well.”

Aelin let her head hang in defeat. She should just let him do that. But she knew Maeve hadn’t gotten all dressed up tonight just to come pick up Aelin, either. No. She could stick it out for a little bit longer.

“I’m not sick,” she said, pulling up her underwear and kicking off her too tight tights all the way. There was no way those were going back on. Not a chance.

“Are you…upset?” Rowan’s voice called through the door, and Aelin knew her best friend wasn’t going to leave her alone until he made sure she was fine. Which meant showing him her face.

She took a deep breath and turned the knob on the door, cracking it open just a fraction of an inch, but he pushed it open further. His eyes examined every inch of her face, looking at her thoroughly as a slow frown appeared on his lips.

“You are sick,” he said, holding the back of his hand to her clammy forehead, his frown deepening at her cool touch. She shivered, and his eyes dipped down to her bare legs in confusion.

“I’m not sick,” she whined. “I…” She took a deep breath. Was she really going to tell him this? Searching his stubborn gaze, she knew was going to. He’d never leave her alone otherwise. “I got my period,” she whispered as low as she could, and Rowan’s jaw loosened, forming a small o as he scanned her again.

“For the first time?” he asked, and she could feel her ire rising as he continued to hover in the doorway.

“Yes, for the first time,” she hissed. “And I don’t have… things.” She could feel her cheeks heating. “Will you please leave me alone and put a note on the door that it’s out of service or something?” she mumbled. The only thing that could make this worse was if she had to evacuate the bathroom.

Rowan nodded, shutting the door, and Aelin finally exhaled and let herself sink to the bathroom floor. She hugged her knees into her chest, realizing that if she pressed on her stomach, the pain slightly subsided there. She had just rested her cheek to her knees when there was another knock on the door.

“It’s just me,” Rowan said, causing Aelin to groan. Hadn’t she asked him to leave her alone? “Can I come in?”

Aelin didn’t bother standing up; she just reached for the doorknob and twisted it open with a loud sigh. Rowan looked around the empty bathroom for her, taking a second to find her curled up on the floor.

“Here,” he said, squatting down to her level and holding out his hand to her. She held hers below and looked up at him with wide eyes as two blue pills fell into her palm. “It’ll help.” He reached his other arm out and handed her a can of coke.

Without questioning how or why, Aelin placed the pills in her mouth and swallowed them quickly, enjoying the way the sweet bubbly liquid felt on her tongue. She was so rarely allowed to have soda, and it was delicious.

Rowan’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as he reached into his back pocket and handed her a small yellow wrapped square.

“This was all I could find in one of the upstairs bathrooms,” he said quietly. “I hope it’s okay?”

Aelin’s eyes looked anywhere but at the face that was far too close to hers as she took the pad from his fingers, mumbling out a small “Thanks.”

“Do you know how…” he asked, and Aelin thought she was going to burn alive from embarrassment as she pushed herself up to standing.

“I think I can figure it out,” she snapped, pushing him out of the bathroom and locking the door behind him. UGH! So embarrassing.

She sat on the toilet and unwrapped the square, her eyebrow raising as the pad unfolded itself. She examined it quickly, and deduced that it was pretty intuitive. She peeled off the paper adhesive and affixed the pad to the inside of her underwear, relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about blood getting anywhere.

After washing her hands, she was about to retreat to her same spot on the floor when she saw those same shadows shuffling around on the other side of the door. Sighing, she opened the door again where a pacing Rowan was waiting for her.

“You’re hovering,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Leave me alone, Buzzard,” she said, enjoying the way the nickname sounded on her tongue.

“I called Aunt Maeve,” he said, his eyes apologetic. “She said she can be here in thirty minutes.” He watched as Aelin sighed again. “Do you want to go back out there? Or…”

He trailed off, and Aelin bit her lip and shook her head. The idea of rejoining the party seemed absolutely awful. “I’m just going to wait in here. Come get me when she’s here?”

Rowan nodded again and headed down the hall, and Aelin sank to the floor again, bringing her knees up to her chest in the only position that had made her feel comfortable so far. The floor was a little cold against the backs of her thighs, so she made a tiny seat for herself out of her scrunched up tights. She settled in and hoped the pills Rowan had brought her would kick in quickly. And that Rowan wouldn’t move on too quickly from her.

When there was a third knock at the door, Aelin didn’t even bother raising her head. She just chuckled softly and called out, “Come in.”

Rowan slipped in and closed the door behind him, settling next to her with a large bowl of chocolates she recognized from the elaborate kitchen spread Nehemia had showed them. She unwrapped one immediately and plopped it into her mouth, smiling when Rowan did the same.

“Don’t settle for a spark,” he read off the inside of the chocolate wrapper. “Light a fire instead.”

He snorted and crumpled up the foil, tossing it into the small trashcan in front of them.

“Calories only exist if you count them,” Aelin said, smiling wider.

“It does not say that,” Rowan laughed, grabbing the foil from her hands, which—did, in fact, say that.

“I’m sorry I ruined the party for you,” Aelin apologized. She felt horrible about that, but Rowan shook his head. “You could go back out there, if you wanted…”

“I only came to hang out with you anyway,” he said, causing something in Aelin’s chest to constrict tightly. Gods, she loved him so, so much.

Aelin sighed and placed her head down on her knees again, this time resting her cheek against them so she could look at Rowan beside her. He mirrored her position, his knees up and his face tilted toward hers, smiling softly. After a few minutes of silence, Rowan finally spoke up again.

“Does it really hurt?” he asked, and Aelin’s smile fell from her face as she acknowledged the all consuming pain residing in her lower stomach.

“Maybe if I stab you you’ll understand what I’m feeling like,” she said, and Rowan cringed.

“That bad?”

“Worse,” Aelin said, hugging her knees in tighter to fight off another wave of pain. “Thanks for…” she shrugged, taking another chocolate and popping it into her mouth.

Rowan shrugged back. “It’s nothing. Aunt Maeve gets cramps really bad.” His brows furrowed as he remembered some conversation with her. “She always told me I needed to be the kind of boyfriend who could buy tampons and pads and not be scared of a little blood.” His cheeks reddened as he sat up suddenly. “Not that I’m your boyfriend or that you have a boyfriend,” he sputtered, and Aelin sighed, knowing that was definitely true. “I just meant…” He sighed as his cheeks dotted with a deeper red. “You understand what I’m saying, right?” He cleared his throat, which was suddenly scratchy and dry. “Anyway, are you feeling better at all? The pain pills should be kicking in, and caffeine is supposed to help, too.”

Aelin snorted at her worrywart of a best friend. “Yes, Buzzard.”

He quirked his eyebrow at her in that way she utterly hated as he inquired about the repeated nickname. “Buzzard?”

“Yeah,” she said, poking at his bony shoulder. “Always circling around, watching me like a hawk.” She widened one eye as large as it could go, leaning her head toward him and causing him to laugh raucously. She loved that sound. She heard it so rarely. “Scavenging for supplies,” she added, nudging her knee into his.

“Buzzard,” he repeated matter-of-factly, solidifying the nickname.

“Thanks again for taking care of me, Buzzard,” she said quietly, watching a smile spread across his face. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

“Any time,” he said, knocking his foot into hers.

“So, once a month?” she asked. “Every month? For the rest of my life?” She knew it was a lot, but if he was offering…she was definitely taking him up on it.

He snorted and handed her another chocolate. “Sure, Ace.”

She stuffed it into her mouth and smiled. Everyone was going to be talking about the fun they had at this party on Monday, but as she looked at her laughing best friend on the floor beside her, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

~*~

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