#but this was obviously not supposed to be taken as like something the author was condoning

[the-hype-dragon]

ok I am a hater but it would do a lot of people who make "literary criticism" content a lot of good not to have bad faith readings of every stupid little word an author puts on paper

like I remember reading a sporking/blow-by-blow of some cassie clare book here on tumblr years ago, this character was saying shit that you were obviously supposed to find objectionable--because he was a villain and he was saying it to his traumatized mother who felt like a bad mom already because of the crap her husband pulled on her in the backstory--but then the person writing this critique went off on this tangent talking about how oh no ladies you aren't a bad mom just because of this that and the other thing and I was sitting there like, are you for fucking real right now, like they were acting like cc was sitting here saying "oh yes, this obvious bad guy is totally parroting my own opinions about women and moms in particular" I felt like I was idk I felt like I was going kinda crazy

[jonnywaistcoat]

What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?

And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?

This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.

My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.

Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.

And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.

And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.

I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.

As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.

Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.

So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.

Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Curtain call - Spencer Reid

Summary: You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target... Warnings: mentions of blood, a kiss 2k wc

Adrenaline rushes through you as you run through the wings, catching your breath as you made your way across the backstage. You had just about a minute until you had to be on stage once more, the big number now coming to its end. Rushing into the costume room, you barely acknowledge the one thing obviously wrong with the messy space until you reach for your next costume on the rack, moving all other clothes aside to find it. There’s something inappropriate about your outfit. One, there isn’t supposed to be any blood on it yet there it is, a bloody handprint, running all the way to the bottom of your dress. That’s when your eyes trail down to the bottom of the clothing rack, where you get a clear look of the body lying underneath the row of clothes. Blood was soaking through her entire costume and her skin was turning blue. It’s only when someone runs into the changing room at risk of missing your cue that you hear a gut-wrenching scream. Later, you’d be told that it had come from you. 

Being called into the theatre the next day for “mandatory debriefing” was not what you had expected after such a traumatic experience, but you came in nonetheless, afraid of losing the job after the scene you had caused the night before. After screaming bloody-murder, half the cast ran into the changing rooms to find you hysterically crying over your cast mate’s body, holding her cold hand. The audience had been scared half to death, and after the authorities made it onto the scene, everyone was evacuated out of the theatre. By finding her body, you had cost everyone a night of the show. 

But once you got to the theatre, angry yellow tape cutting off access to the public, you were approached by a handsome man with a serious face and confident posture, offering you his hand even as he walked towards you. “Miss L/N? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI, and this is Dr. Reid. We just have a few questions we would like you to answer for us.” Agent Morgan had been a very kind man, who told you every formality that was written in the book, however the man he had introduced to you as Dr. Reid caught your attention in a way you weren’t aware would be good or bad. Dr. Reid stayed silent as Agent Morgan questioned you, deeply staring at you as you answered all that was thrown at you, shooting you quizzical looks every now and then and glancing down at your fidgety hands. 

“Thank you so much for all this Miss L/N, that’s all our questions.” As Agent Morgan began to stand, Dr. Reid looked up at you, “Actually, I do have a few more if you don’t mind.” Agent Morgan shot his partner a confused look, slowly backing down into his seat once more. “Do you know why Evelyn was in the costume room when she was? With my limited understanding of the play, I was under the impression that her character didn’t have any costume changes up to the point you had gotten to before she was killed.” And then those that followed:

“Was anyone other than you supposed to be in the changing rooms at that moment?”

“Is there anyone in the cast who has taken a specific liking or dislike towards you?” 

“Can you remember any specific encounters with anyone as you were going in or out of the theatre?”

“Have you received any eye catching letters from fans recently?” 

Finally, Dr. Reid’s prying had gotten you somewhere, leaving you more terrified than ever, with Agent Morgan reassuring you “It’s just a theory that Dr. Reid has, so we’re only taking precaution. There’s nothing to worry about just yet.” The two agents drove you back to your place where you led them to the cursed fan-letter drawer in your study. "I don't usually read them because there are so many." You admitted, crossing your arms tightly over your torso, observing as the doctor starting frantically pulling letters out of the tidied drawer, eyes briefly scanning the name on the front of each envelope. He threw several to the side, dropping the rest onto the floor after reading the name until nearly ten minutes later, all the letters laid on the floor.

Dr. Reid scrambled to gather the letters he had tossed to the side, standing up hurriedly. You stared at the pile in his hands, glancing back up at the two men for an explanation. "These are all sent from the same person. I'd like to read them and see if I can analyse the language used. I think one of us should stay here with you for the mean time." You nodded at Dr. Reid's words, briefly looking over to his partner for confirmation. "I think Reid should stay here as he looks over the letters." He moved his attention from you to Dr. Reid "You can ask her any questions you might have and it'll be good protection." The partners nodded to each other and almost instantly, Agent Morgan exited the room.

Dr. Reid's hand came up before hesitantly placing it on your shoulder. "Do you mind if I get settled here? Ask some questions?" You shook your head silently before asking "Um, since you'll be here awhile, can I get you something? Coffee?" Dr. Reid nodded, muttering a quiet "That would be lovely." You don't know what it was: maybe the fact that he was here to protect to or trying to save your life, but felt your heart beat in your chest aggressively, as though trying to break through your skin. You brought him coffee, sugar and packets of cream on the side just in case and watched in awe as he emptied out the small cup of sugar. Sweet, just like him.

"Dr. Reid-" "Spencer. Please." You nodded, scooting your chair closer to him as he took a sip of coffee. "Did I make a mistake by not reading these?" The envelopes made loud unfolding noises every time he pulled a letter out of a different one, and he shook his head. "No. I know I wouldn't open so many of these and I have an IQ of 187." You grinned, your chest bubbling with a giggle. Spencer perked up at the sound of your laughter, smiling gently at you. He wasn't trying to joke around, but he was happy to uplift your mood. He studied all the letters laid out in front of him, and immediately noticed a pattern.

'02.02.18, I saw you in Oliver! today, you make an amazing Nancy.'

'14.02.18, I watched you in Oliver! again. You somehow get better the more I see you on stage.'

'07.03.18 I loved you today in the show. I watched the evening show. Did you see me too?'

'17.03.18 I saw your show again. I can be your Bill Sykes if you'd let me."

'11.04.18 I've been waiting anxiously to see you again since Oliver stopped touring. You make a wonderful Veronica.'

'15.04.18 We can be Seventeen together! Let me be your JD.'

"This isn't good." Without any further explanation, he pulled his phone out, dialling a number. "He's using obsessive language and saw her in Oliver! and Heathers, both of which have abusive partners who either kill or try to kill who Y/N's playing. You need to go visit his address right now." Coincidentally, just as he hangs up the phone, your doorbell rings. Your blood runs cold and you stand up instantly, but Spencer steps in front of you, blocking you from going anywhere. "Stay behind me, but stay close." He mutters, pulling his gun from his hostler. Spencer watches you closely, and the profiler in him notices how your breath begins to speed up and your eyes glaze with tears.

One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and he whispers "Breathe. I'm right here so no one's going to hurt you, okay?" You nod, staying as close as you can to him without touching him until you get to the front door. He peeks through the peephole and his shoulders drop as an "Oh." Escapes him. He opens and closes the door faster than you can register, now holding another letter in his hand, identical to all the ones scattered on your desk.

Six words are written on the letter when Spencer opens him, and his face pales. It was meant to be you. Spencer grabs your hand, dragging you back into your study - the one room in your house with no windows. He locks the door, pressing numbers on his phone again before it's against his ear. "It's definitely him, he just sent another letter. We're in her study but he might be around the premises or returning to his house. I don't plan on getting her out of the study until you get him." The second the words leave his mouth you're processing them, and tears are welling in your eyes once more.

The sound of sniffling gets his attention back to you and his hands are gently coming up to your shoulders, leading you to sit down in a chair. "I'm scared." You whisper helplessly, looking up at the doctor. He crouches down to your level, and hand on your knee. "Hey, what did I say before?" He looks at you intently waiting for an answer. "No one's gonna hurt me." Spencer nods, a soft smile gracing his features. "Yes, exactly. No one's going to hurt you. I have an excellent team looking for that son of a bitch as we speak and I am right here with you."

You nod, not entirely convinced, which he can apparently tell, so he continues with "Come on, look at these muscles. You think anyone will get to you when I have these babies?" His tongue pokes out slightly as he flexes his arms, which are actually more toned than you realise. You laugh again and feel yourself launching your body at him before you can stop yourself, pulling him into a tight hug. He hesitates, but eventually, his arms are pulling you even closer to him, one hand rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. You break the hug, but before you can help yourself, you realise you're leaning into him, pressing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. To your surprise he immediately returns the kiss, his hands cupping your face as he deepens the kiss.

He's panting when he pulls away from you, whispering "This is unprofessional. I'm sorry, I like you, I do, but I shouldn't." Cocking your head to the side, you can't help but smile slightly. "It's only unprofessional for one of us so technically it's not unprofessional at all." His face twists in confusion as he tries processing your words. "That's not how it wo-mmph." the rest of his words are muffled by the second kiss you give him, which you feel him melting into as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. "After- after the case. After the case, I'll take you on a date." His face falls at his own words, his face reddening in embarrassment. "That is- I mean that's only if you want. I wouldn't take you on a date if you didn't want to, that's totally fine."

The door to the study slams open just as he finishes rambling and you scream in fear, tightly gripping Spencer's hand and turning around expecting to find a middle aged balding creep, only to find a much sexier bald man, putting his gun back in his hostler. "Did you not hear us screaming for you? We thought he might have gotten to you before we found him. Ms. L/N, you're safe, we found him." Agent Morgan's gaze slowly trails to where your hand tightly grips Spencer's, and when he sees the flush on Spencer's face he makes a "Huh" noise, before walking out of the room once more.

taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (11) - First Light

Chapter summary: A much needed discussion takes place and it ends with Astarion coating his daggers with poison.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma. Mentions of oral sex. Blood drinking,

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: I am still unable to reply to comments (I'm waiting for tumblr support to fix this... I read all of the, I promise. You can also send and ask or head to ao3 so I can reply there. Thank you!

Series masterlist

Ao3

Wyll Ravengard was the picture-perfect of integrity.

Well, if you were to exclude his past dealings with the half-devil Mizora. But even then, he had been mostly justified in his assessment of the situation.

So it came as no surprise when you weren't able to find a single trace of judgement on his face.

Only evident concern.

Shadowheart had quickly filled him in on the Waterdeep situation as well as provided him with enough context when it came to Ava.

“Well, this is a… mess,” Wyll eventually drawled out.

Astarion, who was sitting to your right, immediately snickered. “Understatement of the year.”

Shadowheart, who was sitting to you left, promptly quipped, “I wonder whose fault that is.”

He leaned forward to glance at her. “Darling, all that pent-up frustration must–”

You heaved a deep sigh as you nudged him with your elbow, not in the mood to moderate their venomous exchange. “Enough!”

Wyll took a seat across from yours as a Fist stood by his side, hand clasping the handle of his sword in a silent warning.

“You should have told me about your arrangement with Ava,” he said, locking eyes with you. “I know all too well how some propositions are just rotten from the start and doomed to fail.”

Tension and guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

Not even half an hour ago, you had been able to momentarily push aside the chaos that had been hurled at you in such short notice.

“It seemed like a fair exchange – if her words are to be believed, that is,” you said.

Wyll tensed up. “There is nothing fair about offering your blood to bloodthirsty fiends as an exchange.” He then glanced at Astarion. “No offense.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “None taken, darling.”

But Wyll did have a point even if your arrangement with Astarion was nothing akin to the one with Ava.

Yet…

“Nothing is set in stone. I don't have to go through with any of it.”

From beside you, Shadowheart managed an irritable look. “I cannot be the only one who finds all of this rather convenient. Even if there is someone connected to Cazador after you, why would she withhold that information? Doesn't she need you safe and sound, Astarion?”

“I suppose so, but who's to say? I would need to talk to her,” he said, eyes on Wyll. “I have to talk to her.”

Wyll immediately understood the implication in his words. “Now?”

“Well, obviously not now,” he said indignantly.

The sun was still up and dusk was hours away. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” you intervened, heart racing in your chest. “We need to find out first if there's something that links all of this to Ava.”

“Regardless of that, she still needs to answer for her deranged proposition,” Astarion replied.

Shadowheart scoffed. “You were the one who endangered her in the first place with that bizarre deal.”

He was on his feet faster than you could blink, scowling. “Do not make the idiotic mistake of thinking you are the only one here who cares for her.”

She rose from the sofa, matching his defyance. “Oh, I am sure you care for her – in your own twisted way.”

“Can you two stop it?” you half-shouted, coming to stand in between them before he could retort. “This is pointless!”

They glared at each other in silence for a moment before parting ways, with Astarion sinking down on a chair whilst Shadowheart began pacing around the room, evidently distressed.

“My friends, we need to think critically here,” Wyll spoke again. “Arguing with each other is the last thing we ought to do right now.”

Silence followed as tension dispersed.

“Now, as we wait for Lae'zel and Gale to return, I must ask a few questions, Astarion.”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Wyll ignored his snarky remark, assuming a more serious demeanour. “Why would you resort to her in the first place? Was her promise more solid than the Wish spell?”

“There were no promises made,” he said acidly, a nerve clearly having been struck. “She’s merely experimenting and the prospect seemed too good to pass.”

“So, your blood for a way to lessen your vampiric hunger? That was the deal?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you watched as Astarion tensed up slightly.

He had never shared with them just how deep the horrors he endured under Cazador's command truly twisted inside him.

How all of it had taken a toll on his ability to be intimate with someone without feeling tainted.

How it had ultimately driven him into striking a deal with someone like Ava as despair took root.

And it wasn't your place to reveal any of it.

So you merely sat back and observed him in silence.

“It seemed good enough back then,” he said coolly. “Besides, it could also be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

That had Wyll arch an eyebrow. “The spawn?”

“Petras has been sending letters to report back, and – well, let's just say that dealing with 7,000 hungry vampire spawn isn't an easy feat,” he said. “I figured that if her experiment were to be successful, then it'd be beneficial for them as well.”

Oh.

Shadowheart waggled her eyebrows as her feet came to a halt. “So you weren't merely thinking about yourself?”

“Initially, yes. Of course.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“However, I was the one who doomed them to eternal hunger, so it seemed fitting I'd help.”

“They were doomed either way,” you quickly pointed out. “And it was Cazador's doing.”

His head turned to you. “Be it as it may, their hunger isn't sated for long. I know that all too well.”

Astarion wasn't exactly the epitome of selflessness, but you knew he had come to change some of his ways in the past few weeks after all the events that had unfolded.

And when it came to his own hunger, you figured old habits did die hard.

His eyes then landed on your neck for a moment before looking away.

“I reckon I already know the answer to this, but did you even plan ahead?” Shadowheart said, crossing her arms. “How would you even make this feasible for thousands of spawn with just your own blood? Or were they really just an afterthought?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Ava was handling the … logistics, shall we say. My blood would be the starting point, but not a requirement.”

She scoffed in utter disbelief. “And you took her word for it… blindly. You simply trusted some monster hunter with a blood fetish? This is ridiculous even for you.”

He was definitely a passionate admirer of the ‘laugh now, cry later’ school of thought, which also meant that when the consequences hit… they would hit hard.

“It's not like progress was being made with the Wish spell, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

A chill rushed through you like a knife. “Only a few weeks had passed, Astarion. All you had to do was wait–”

And then he snapped. His seemingly calm demeanour finally cracking open and revealing the hurt underneath.

“For centuries, all I did was wait! There were times I wished he would just destroy me once and for all to rid me of the burden of being ‘alive’ under such conditions,” he snarled, rising from the chair as he faced you. “I turned away from all that power I could have – the ritual… everything! I – I just…” His voice faltered and he heaved a sigh, reining back his outrage as his face softened into that expression that just broke you. “Is it such a crime that I want better for myself?”

You shook your head, feeling for him, but… “These things take time. Despair leads to rushed actions.”

He grimaced. “So you'd have me turn to hope?”

“Yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “There's nothing quite as cruel as hope, darling.”

You heard Wyll let out an exasperated sigh from across the room. “Astarion, I will not judge you for the decision you made to mingle with Ava – you had your reasons. But the consequences seem severe enough even if she isn't involved in either of the killings.”

He remained silent.

“It's not just about you anymore. She took an interest in her blood and is now using it as a bargaining chip,” he said. “That is unacceptable.”

“I fully agree with Wyll,” Shadowheart said as she came to sit next to you once again.

“And that is why you'll let me go to her,” Astarion said.

“You're still under house arrest. The Council of Four will–”

“To Hells with them all!” Astarion said through clenched teeth, fangs peeking through. “We're your friends, are we not? And since you're so adamant about my fault in this, allow me to set things right.”

“A good call,” Shadowheart chimed in with a nod.

Wyll seemed taken aback by his words and his frown deepened. “I may have the final word as the Grand Duke, but I cannot consciously go against a collective ruling.”

“The circumstances have changed,” Astarion retorted simply. “I will go to her and you're free to have your Fists point a thousand stakes at me along the way if it eases your mind.”

You could tell Wyll felt torn between duty and reasoning, and you didn't envy him in the slightest.

“You don't understand the consequences of–”

Astarion's face darkened and a devious smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, darling. I do understand. I simply do not care.”

Wyll took a deep breath, clearly realising he was fighting a losing battle.

He turned to face the Fist by his side. “Send word to the Council.”

The tall and broad man nodded before exiting through the front door.

“You can't be serious,” Astarion scoffed. “You should have kept this between us. They don't have to know.”

But Wyll merely shook his head. “We can do things your way and my way.”

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. 

“I'm coming with you,” you said, fully determined..

Shadowheart immediately gripped your arm firmly. “No.”

Wyll rose from his seat. “He shall not go alone, but you don't need to get more involved in this than you already are.”

Astarion turned to face you and raised one hand. “Absolutely not. You stay.”

That made your blood boil almost instantly and a flash of anger crossed your face. “I can fend for myself. Just let me–”

But your words were muffled by a deafening swirling and pulsing sound that came from outside.

In no time, the door was slammed open as a visibly irritated Lae'zel stormed inside.

“Tsk'va! Mages and their nauseating portals,” she grumbled before closing the door shut and plunging the room in candlelight once again. “Almost spilled the contents of my stomach. Twice.”

Both you and Shadowheart flocked to her side and you spoke first, “Are you alright? Where’s Gale?”

She nodded dismissively, placing her esteemed greatsword on the long table. “He stayed behind to converse with a few of his acquaintances, trying to make sense of what happened.”

“Well? What happened, then?” Astarion asked as he approached the three with you with Wyll right behind him.

“The man succumbed to a multitude of slashing wounds.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped.

“Slashing wounds? Was it an animal? A monster?” Wyll immediately pressed.

“We do not know. It was a rather brutal sight even for someone like me,” Lae'zel said with a frown.

A shiver spread across your body and you felt nauseous all of a sudden.

“Was there anything odd about it?” Shadowheart asked.

“Because a man being brutally shredded to pieces isn't odd enough?” Astarion said with a scoff.

She ignored him. “Were there traces of necrotic magic?”

Lae'zel arched a brow. “No. What's with this interrogation?”

Shadowheart was definitely trying to find a common element between the two deaths… and Ava.

And it seemed that there was nothing there.

Yet.

“We are trying to figure out if Ava could have had a hand in this.”

Lae'zel didn't budge. “Who?”

“Ava.”

Lae'zel turned to Astarion. “Your hairdresser?”

This time, Shadowheart clicked her tongue impatiently, hands on her hips. “Astarion struck a deal with some monster hunter turned blood merchant and got her involved.” She extended one arm to at you. “This Ava woman now wants her blood for whatever nefarious reason and might also be the one to blame for the death that led to them getting arrest and – quite possibly – the one from today.”

Your eyes widened, quite astonished that she was able to spill all that information in one swift breath. 

If the circumstances weren't quite so dire, you would also have chuckled from how she sounded like a child who was telling her strict parent on her misbehaving sibling.

Astarion was obviously offended. “Conveniently leaving out the part where I am entitled to mingling with whomever I want, and that I was completely oblivious to Ava's finding and her proposal.”

Lae'zel glanced at you. “What proposal?”

“It's fine. Don't worry. I won't go through with any of it,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on her wrist, knowing fully well she was itching to swing her sword on him. “This is all one big mess, but he truly didn't know.”

Shadowheart growled. “You do not have to keep defending him!”

Wyll spoke before you could. “Shadowheart. I understand your indignation, but we need to move on from the constant pointless bickering. What is done is done.”

Astarion clapped thrice. “Ah! The voice of reason!”

She threw him a death glare before crossing her arms and tapping her foot irritably on the floor, but not uttering another word.

Lae'zel, on the other hand, had her narrowed eyes set on Astarion. “You are fortunate she adores that pretty head attached to your body.”

“Was that a compliment, Lae'zel?” he taunted.

“Your ability to turn any remark into an opportunity to feed your ego is truly astounding, Astarion.”

He smirked happily in response. “I do my best – or worst, depending on your taste.”

“Enough of this,” you interjected as you stared at Lae'zel. “When is Gale returning?”

She shrugged. “Unclear. He is also trying to find another contact who might help out with the Wish spell.”

“No.”

All heads turned to Astarion.

His brows knitted together. “No. No one else is getting involved until we figure out what is happening.”

Your eyes met his in mingled surprise and confusion. 

Even Shadowheart was stunned silent as her face softened.

“I thought you wanted this more than anything,” Wyll asked.

“Well, yes. But not when people are turning up dead all around me.”

Lae'zel frowned. “So, all of this for nothing? Had a sudden change of heart about your inability to walk in the sun again?”

He rolled his eyes. “Heavens forbid I'm the one pointing the moral compass in the right direction. Don't act so surprised, darling. I still know what I want and what I need to do.”

You closed the distance between you and him, worry brewing in your heart.

“Astarion, the Wish spell isn't easy to come by. It's not easy to find someone willing to teach it and Gale is a powerful wizard and strong candidate,” you said, trying to reason with him as you placed a hand on his arm. “I understand your reluctance, but we might have to wait even longer if this opportunity is disregarded.”

He didn't even flinch. “This is ultimately my choice, and I choose to wait. I've had it with others dictating how I should feel and act. This is the sensible thing to do.”

For centuries, he had belonged to everyone – to anyone – but himself. 

Both in body and mind. 

So, if this was what he truly thought was best for him, who were you to deny him of it? Maybe you would have chosen differently, but this wasn't truly about you, was it?

He would tell you otherwise, of course. That you had been the stepping stone to his healing process since the nautiloid crash, but you couldn't and wouldn't take full credit for it.

This was a joint effort and you would empower him all the way through.

“I stand with you,” you said eventually said, breaking the silence.

He gradually relaxed under your touch.

Shadowheart spoke next, “I respect your decision, Astarion. We need to see if there is a link between the two deaths. I can go ahead through the portal and ask Gale to return.”

He nodded. 

“Very well,” she said with a curt smile.

Wyll approached the door. “I will inform the guards to accompany you once dusk hits, Astarion.”

He nodded again. “Thank you.”

Lae'zel then cursed and left the room with a loud bang behind her as the door closed shut.

Your hand came to his shoulder and his crimson eyes were on you again. “Let me come with you.”

“No.”

You scowled. “I'm not some frail sorcerer. I can stand by your side and help.”

This time, he chuckled. “Sweetheart, you are more capable than most of us combined here. My reluctance doesn't stem from my lack of faith in your abilities,” he said, voice firm and collected. “If anything were to happen to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Allow me to handle this.”

Your heart was hammering fast in your chest from his words, and even though you wanted to argue with his decision, you held your tongue back.

In truth, you were mostly scared Ava would have something up her sleeve and hurt him. That was what was eating at your nerves.

But still, you nodded

It was settled then.

You made your way down the corridor, coming to a halt as the faint glow spilled from inside his room.

The door was open for a change.

A comforting smile curled your lips, knowing you'd find him inside.

As you approached the doorway, you spotted Astarion across the room, flicking through a few pieces of cloth placed on the round table.

You knocked twice on the wood “May I?”

He nodded. “It's your house.”

“Well, it's your room,” you retorted. “For now, at least,” you quickly added, not wanting to seem overbearing. After all, he wasn't ultimately here on his own volition.

“You don't have to keep asking,” he said with a faint smile.

Your eyes landed on his bed as you walked in, causing your heart to skip a beat.

A few hours ago, the two of you had been lost in each other's pleasure on that very same spot. Now, the bedclothes had been laid sprawled across it, no creases or any remaining proof of your earlier endeavour.

The two of you had been robbed of after care and a much needed talk about what had happened.

Even if he had seemed quite content during and after all of it, you found yourself always hung on the fear that you had rushed through it all.

So, you needed the affirmation. You needed to hear his thoughts on it and to ensure no boundaries had been crossed.

You approached the table and your gaze roamed cross the clear vials that he had placed by his twin daggers. 

Odourless.

Colourless.

Poison.

“Lethal?”

He dabbed a selected piece of cloth on the clear liquid. “No.”

An uneasy feeling began to take root. “Do you think she'll try to hurt you?”

“It would be rather foolish of her,” he mused, dragging the damp fabric along each blade, coating them in a fine layer of poison. “But I've been wrong before about people, so – as they say – better safe than sorry.”

It wasn’t the reassurance you were seeking, but Astarion was more than capable when it came to self-defence.

“Besides, she needs me more than I need her,” he concluded, inspecting the glinting blade close to his eyes. “And if she fails to provide satisfactory answers, the Fists will deal with her.”

You nodded, but still failing to push your fear aside. “What if there is really someone after us? What if she's not connected to any of this?”

You had purposefully let out the faint implication that maybe there was a connection to Cazador. He didn't need to be troubled with that in case Ava was bluffing. 

Astarion sheathed both daggers on either side of his waist before his eyes landed on you. “If that is the case, then she will tell me who it is. And she better have a godsdamned good justification for why she thought I would allow you to be involved.”

You absentmindedly bit your lip and he smiled warmly, coming to stand in front of you, wiping his hands clean from any trace of poison.

Silently, he leaned to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his cool lips making you flinch slightly.

It was as if a surge of lightning had been cast throughout your body, setting you alight.

“About earlier…” you said, swallowing your nervousness.

He traced your jawline with his thumb before tipping your head back so you could properly meet his gaze.

“Darling, already back for another round?”

You broke into laughter. “No! No… that wasn't what I trying to say.”

He tapped your nose lovingly and it was as if the two of you were long-time lovers, used to each other's teases and mannerisms.

Your heart skipped yet another beat.

“I know. Just couldn't miss the opportunity to have you all flustered for me again,” he said with a devious grin. “But do go on.”

“I just want to make sure… it was alright… what we did, I mean,” you said in a whisper.

Astarion's brows furrowed together. “I thought that was pretty much evident…”

A lump swelled in your throat.

You truly didn't want to overstep any lines.

But you had to know. You had to hear it.

“I am talking about… up here,” you said, pressing a finger softly to his temple. “I… just want to make sure you're truly fine. That we're truly fine.”

You held your breath for a moment, dreading a worrisome reply.

He caught hold of your hand and pressed your finger to his lips. “I will always tell you if it's too much.”

A wave of relief washed over you and you allowed yourself to breathe normally.

Still…

You swallowed again. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he said, using your own finger to tap the tip of your nose, earning a heartfelt giggle from you. 

“So… it wasn't too much?”

“No,” he said truthfully.

You nodded as he gripped your chin. “How did it feel?”

He paused for a while, pondering. “It felt… right.”

Your stomach turned and your heart sped up from how close he was to you.

How close he felt to you.

“I want to kiss you,” he said all of a sudden. “May I?”

You felt as though you would melt into a puddle from how desperate he sounded.

“You don't have to always ask,” you said truthfully.

He then pressed his cool lips to the corner of your mouth and you instinctively gasped. “I just adore the sound of your voice when you let me in.”

His lips moved to the opposite side, lingering there, and a rush of heat pooled in your cheeks.

“May I kiss you, darling?” he asked once more, pulling back just enough for his lips to barely touch yours. “May I taste you?”

Gods…

“Please do.”

He didn't need to be told twice.

The kiss started off slow at first as his lips molded into yours. But as soon as you made way for his tongue to slide inside, Astarion became the image of hunger.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed both thumbs on your chin, so you'd open up wider for him.

A flash of memory filled your mind and you recalled how he used to do the same whenever you were on your knees, struggling to fit his thick cock in your mouth.

“You can take more of me, can't you, my sweet?” he'd say, voice dripping with lust.

You'd always struggle at first. Always. But he was such a caring lover and he would always ensure you took your time.

You quickly shuddered as your clit began throbbing evenly. 

His tongue was as relentless against yours as his cock had once been, but his eagerness and hunger had his razor-like fang nip at your lower lip, drawing blood.

“Shit,” you groaned from the sharp sting.

Astarion immediately pulled back and you stared at him in confusion.

You felt a few drops dribbling down your chin.

Why wasn't he tasting you?

His eyes were fixed on your lips and his eyes narrowed with bloodlust.

“You're letting it go to waste?” you asked, swiping your finger across the bleeding wound.

He swallowed with a strained smile. 

Oh, he was struggling to hold back…

“Well, darling… I don't intend on leaving the house with my cock hard with your blood.”

You clenched so hard you felt a gush of wetness being squeezed out.

But there was only so much Astarion could withstand, so you couldn't fight the moan that tore through your throat as he placed the softest kiss to your lip.

“Just before I go,” he whispered. “So I can take you with me.”

You clenched again and you could feel your clit swell up with each throb.

He eventually parted from you, licking his blood-stained lips as his eyes held that lustful gaze you adored.

“I'll be back soon.”

You were left petrified in place as he swiftly made his way out.

It wasn’t fair how soaked you were.

How soaked he had left you.

You glanced over your shoulder and realised the door had been left open all along and you rushed to the window, tugging on the curtain.

The sun had set as he appeared down below, followed closely by two Fists.

And the single mage slayer.

The three of them trailed after his steps and darted off into the distance.

And you realised that without a mage slayer around to keep your magic at bay, you could simply vanish.

You glanced at the vials of poison on the nearby table and smiled.

TBC

Series masterlist

Ao3

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THREE ━━ Falling out of Focus

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.5K

☆ ━ warnings: use of homophobic slur, underage drinking, smoking i think, tiny fist fight lol, more angst

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: so sorry i did not proof read this and it’s so dialogue heavy but here it is anyways and drama period

IF NOTHING can comfort Paige Bueckers, it’s usually a basketball court that she needs. It’s the place where she’s found solace nearly her whole life, at this point. The steady rhythm of the dribbling, the weight of the ball in her hands, the way her body moves practically on instinct with it now—all of it is usually enough to drown out the noise of the world. Apparently, not today. She feels like she’s playing in someone else’s body, like everything with her game is off. None of her shots fall, she turns the ball more than she assists, and, when, she shoots once more and the ball hits the rim, bouncing off again, she feels like she’s going to lose it.

Coach Cosgriff seems to feel the same way. “Paige! Come on!” his voice cuts, sharp and direct. Paige blinks, shaking her head a little to clear it, before getting back into the drill.

“Sorry, Coach,” she mumbles, forcing her feet to move. But it’s almost like neither her heart or head are in. The ball feels heavy, unwieldy, like it isn’t made for her hands anymore. She passes it to Taylor, who shoots her a worried look before continuing the play.

Paige can feel the eyes of her teammates on her, each glance a tiny needle pricking her skin. Normally, she’d thrive under the attention, but today, it’s suffocating. She feels like she’s spiraling, and she has no idea how to stop it. It isn’t just about basketball; it’s about fucking everything.

“Let’s run it again!” Coach calls, and Paige tries to push all thoughts that aren’t basketball out of her mind. But the harder she tries, the more insistent her brain becomes.

They run through the drill again, and—again—Paige finds herself a step behind. She’s supposed to cut to the basket, but her feet move too slowly, like they’re stuck in mud. Amaya passes her the ball, but Paige isn’t ready, and it slips through her fingers, skidding across the floor.

“Damnit,” Paige curses under her breath, running after it. She can feel her teammates’ frustration, their confusion, and she hates herself for being the cause of it.

“Paige, you good?” Maya asks as they pause for a water break. She’s careful not to sound accusatory, but Paige can hear the concern in her voice. “You’re not yourself today.”

“I’m fine,” Paige snaps, harsher than she intended. Maya blinks, taken aback, and Paige immediately feels guilty. “I’m just… off. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” KK chimes in, wiping sweat from her forehead. “You can talk to us, you know.”

Paige forces a smile, but it feels all wrong on her face. “I’m good. Just needa get my head straight.”

The words feel empty even as she says them. How can she explain to her teammates without sounding pathetic and stupid that she’s acting this way over a girl? Obviously, it’s not just any girl—it’s Dani. But still. A girl is getting in the way of Paige and basketball and it’s frustrating her so fucking much. She hates it. She hates all of it. She hates that every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Dani slipping further away from her, replaced by Beau Hudson’s smug, indifferent face?

“Alright, everyone, bring it in,” Coach Cosgriff calls, ending the break. “Let’s focus up and finish strong.”

Paige nods, but her focus is long gone. The rest of practice is a blur of missed shots, half-hearted passes, and growing frustration. When it finally ends, Paige doesn’t stick around to talk to anyone. She grabs her bag, mumbling something about having to study, and heads straight for the locker room.

In the quiet of the locker room, Paige finally allows herself to collapse on the bench. She buries her face in her hands, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. She refuses to let them fall. Crying won’t change anything; it won’t bring Dani back to her, and it sure as hell won’t fix the gaping hole that seems to be growing in her chest.

Paige decides she needs a distraction. Something, anything, to take her mind off Dani, off the way everything’s falling apart.

—SO, a few days later, when Jalen texts Paige about a party, she doesn’t hesitate. She needs noise, people, a chance to drown out the thoughts that have cut off all her access to oxygen.

Paige can feel the bass of the music vibrating through the floorboards the moment she enters the house. The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the faint tang of weed lingering in the background. The place is packed—people spilling out into the backyard, others dancing in the living room, and even more just milling about with red solo cups in hand. It’s exactly what Paige needs—or, at least that’s what she tells herself.

Jalen and Thaliah walk in beside her, ready for a much-needed night out. Jalen has a grin plastered across his face, greeting people as they walk in, while Thaliah is more laid-back, scanning the crowd for familiar faces as she takes a hit from the pen in her hand. Paige, on the other hand, feels almost like she’s moving through fog—like the world is a few seconds behind her. But that’s the point of tonight, anyways. To blur the edges. To numb the ache that’s been gnawing at her ever since Dani pushed her away.

“Yo, you good, P?” Jalen’s voice cuts through her thoughts, his hand landing on her shoulder as they push their way toward the kitchen. He gives her a once-over, expression tinged with concern. “You don’t look like you’re feelin’ this.”

Paige forces a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “‘M fine,” she lies, grabbing a solo cup from the counter. “Just need a drink.”

Thaliah, pen still in hand, raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, though there’s a look exchanged between her and Jalen. Paige ignores it. She isn’t in the mood for questions, for concern. She just wants to forget. Wants to drown out the constant loop of thoughts running through her head—Dani with Beau, Dani avoiding her, Dani blocking her out. It all swirls in her chest, a storm she hasn’t been able to control for weeks now.

With that thought, Paige downs her first drink in one long gulp, barely wincing at the sharp taste of Vodka and God-knows-what mixed into it. The burn isn’t enough. She needs more.

Within the next hour, Paige makes her way through three more cups of whatever mix of alcohol they’re serving, the edge of her thoughts blurring with each one, head starting to swim pleasantly, the fog that she’s been chasing slowly starting to catch up to her. Jalen and Thaliah drink too, but not with the same reckless abandon. Even they have their limits, knowing when to pace themselves.

But Paige? She doesn’t quite care about limits tonight.

“Bro, slow down,” Thaliah says, eyeing Paige warily as she reaches for yet another cup. “We’re supposed to be having fun, not getting wasted in the first hour.”

Paige rolls her eyes, ignoring the warning. “I am having fun,” she shoots back, though even to her own ears, her voice sounds a little too sharp, a little too defensive. She takes another long sip from the cup, the world around her beginning to tilt slightly. It’s like floating—like nothing can touch her, and that’s exactly what she wants. No feelings. No thoughts. Just nothing.

Jalen watches her, his buzzed and carefree smile faltering as he nudges Thaliah. “Hey, maybe we should—”

“I’m fine!” Paige cuts in, louder than she means to. Her hand tightens around the cup as she glances at them both, the alcohol making her words slur slightly. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t need a babysitter. God.”

She turns away from them, her eyes scanning the room for something—anything—else to keep her occupied. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to think. She just wants to not feel for a while.

She spots a group of people in the corner of the room, most of them looking just as drunk as she feels. Without another word to her best friends, Paige drifts toward the group, her steps a little uneven as the alcohol works its way through her system.

Jalen watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he turns back to his conversation. “She’ll be fine,” he mumbles, though there’s a slight hesitation in his voice. He glances at Thaliah, who shrugs, clearly tipsy herself but sharing the same concern. Nevertheless, neither of them are quite in the best shape to intervene. Besides, they both know Paige well enough to understand that trying to stop her won’t do any good.

Paige finds herself wedged between two guys she barely knows, both of them laughing loudly about something she isn’t even listening to. It doesn’t matter. She’s laughing too, caught up in the haze of drunkenness, the weight of everything she’s been carrying slipping off her shoulders for just a moment.

“Yo, you good?” one of the guys asks, his words slurred and slow as he nudges her with his elbow. “You look like you’re having a real good time.”

Paige grins, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest. “Yeah, I’m good. Real good.”

He sends her a matching grin in return before handing her another drink—something dark and strong—and, without thinking twice, she takes a long sip, the liquid burning as it goes down. She doesn’t care. All she wants is to keep the buzz going, to keep drowning out the thoughts that keep creeping back whenever she slows down.

Dani. Always fucking Dani.

Paige shakes her head, like she can physically push the thought away. She doesn’t want to think about her. Not about the way she’s pulled away, not about the way she’s acting like Paige doesn’t even exist, not about the way she’s with Beau now. Paige doesn’t want to think about any of it.

“Paige, what are you doing?” Thaliah’s voice breaks through the noise, and Paige blinks, realizing she’s wandered away from the group she was with, ending up near the back patio. Thaliah stands in the doorway, her arms crossed, a slightly exasperated but still concerned look on her face.

“Getting another drink,” Paige slurs, waving her empty cup like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Thaliah steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe you should chill for a minute. You’ve had, like, five already.”

Paige rolls her eyes again, turning away from her friend. “I’m fine, Thal. Seriously.”

Thaliah hesitates, glancing back over her shoulder toward Jalen, who’s still talking to a couple of people near the couch. She isn’t entirely sober herself, and her judgment is definitely a little clouded, but even she can see Paige practically spiraling.

“Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Thaliah affirms, her voice softer now.

“I won’t,” Paige mumbles, though she isn’t sure she means it.

Thaliah stares at her for a moment longer before sighing and heading back inside. Paige doesn’t look back. She wanders farther into the backyard, her footsteps a little less steady now. She finds a group of people near the fire pit, most of them drunk and talking over each other. She sits down on the edge of the bench, barely listening to their conversation as she takes another drink from the communal cooler.

Zoning out, she stares at the flames in the fire pit, the flickering light casting shadows on her face. It crackles, and she watches, the embers highlighting the dark air around her. Everything is a bit softer at the edges now, almost dreamlike, until something—or, rather someone—catches her eye.

A brunette girl sits down next to Paige, her face half-illuminated by the fire before them. She has softer features and warm eyes, as well as brown hair that falls around her shoulders in waves, light highlights coating it. Her cheeks are red with the unmistakable flush of alcohol. She glances at Paige, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. There’s something familiar about the girl, a feeling that tugs at Paige’s drunken mind. It takes her a second to place, but when she realizes why, her heart stumbles a bit: this girl reminds Paige of Dani.

The blonde blinks, her gaze instinctively drawn to the girl’s lips, her head swimming a little more than before.

“Hey,” the brunette slurs a little, her voice laced with the same inebriated giddiness that Paige feels. “I’m Delaney.”

“Delaney?” Paige echoes, feeling like she misheard for a second. She blinks again, her heart doing an unsteady flip at how similar the names Delaney and Dani sound to her. It throws her off for a moment, but not in the way she expects. Maybe it’s because she’s wasted, maybe it’s the loneliness she’s been burying, or maybe it’s just how much she misses her best friend. But somehow, Delaney seems all the more appealing to Paige because of it.

“Yeah,” Delaney giggles, leaning closer, her shoulder brushing against the blonde’s. “And you’re Paige Bueckers.”

Paige feels a smirk creep onto her lips. “You know who I am?” she asks, voice dipping lower, ego inflating slightly. She leans in a little, enough so the sides of their legs touch.

The blonde watches as Delaney’s gaze trails across her face and over her lips. “Everyone knows who you are,” the brunette murmurs. She pauses for a moment, her drunk smile widening slightly. “You’re hot.”

The heat rises in Paige’s chest at that, and she grins back, asking, “Oh, am I?”

Delaney rolls her eyes a little and Paige laughs. The air feels smaller now, like it’s just the two of them, cocooned in the haze of alcohol and tension. Delaney’s eyes sparkle as she stares at Paige, and without much more thought, they fall into a flirty back-and-forth, words blending into giggles and gentle touches that feel a little too familiar.

The brunette rests her hand on Paige’s knee, her fingers slowly trailing upward, and Paige doesn’t stop her. It’s easy. Too easy. Paige leans forward, her breath catching in her throat as their faces hover inches apart.

“You really are pretty,” Paige whispers, her eyes drifting to Delaney’s lips.

And before she knew it, the space between them disappears their lips crash together, the kiss hot and sloppy and fueled by too much alcohol. Paige kisses Delaney harder, trying to drown out the ache that’s been gnawing at her all summer—the same ache that Dani left behind when she cut Paige out of her life.

For a moment, it’s enough. Paige loses herself in the kiss, her hands sliding to Delaney’s waist, pulling her closer. Delaney’s hand is on Paige’s thigh again, this time higher, but the basketball player doesn’t stop her. The brunette tastes like cheap beer and something sweet, and Paige kisses her like it’s an escape.

But then, the sensation of being watched creeps up on her, sending a shiver down her spine. Paige pulls back a little, her breathing uneven and her lips swollen as her eyes darted around. She scans the yard and the back-end of the house, the shadows of people milling about. And then her gaze locks onto someone standing just by the back door.

Her stomach drops.

Dani.

Paige’s breath hitches as she stares at her. Dani’s watching her, her eyes dark and unreadable, arms crossed over her chest. Paige freezes, her heart pounding in her ears as she takes in the sight of her former best friend, looking so effortlessly gorgeous. She’s wearing jeans that fit her perfectly and a tank top that leaves little to the imagination and as soon as Paige’s eyes set on her, a familiar fire alights in her chest.

As soon as Dani realizes Paige has seen her, she looks away, turning her head and beginning to walk away from the back door as if she wasn’t watching at all. But Paige saw it. The tension in Dani’s jaw, the flicker of something in her eyes.

And suddenly, it’s like Paige is struck by lightning, jolted back into reality. What the hell is she doing?

“Shit,” Paige mutters, pushing herself away from Delaney, her heart racing. Delaney blinks in confusion, still dazed and flushed from the kiss.

“Wait—where are you going?” Delaney asks, her hand reaching for Paige’s arm.

“I—uh—I’ve gotta go,” Paige stammers, barely sparing her another glance before she’s up on her feet, leaving Delaney sitting there on the couch, confused and drunk. Paige barely feels a pang of guilt as she hurries toward Dani, the alcohol still swirling in her system, making her steps unsteady.

Paige stumbles inside the house, weaving her way through the crowd until she catches up to the Callan girl. She reaches out, grabbing Dani’s arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Dani, wait—” Paige’s words come out more frantic than she intends, her grip on Dani’s arm loosening when Dani turns to face her. Paige’s heart hammers in her chest as she struggles to form coherent thoughts. “I—I don’t know what’s going on, but can we just—”

Dani jerks her arm out of Paige’s grip, her face stony. “What do you want, Paige?”

“I don’t know!” Paige’s voice cracks, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know, okay? I saw you staring at me, and then you—why were you even watching me with her?”

Dani’s expression remains cold, but Paige sees the way her fingers twitch at her sides. “I wasn’t watching.”

“That’s bullshit, Dani!” Paige’s voice raises an octave, her fists clenching as she fights to keep herself at bay. “You were staring at me. And her. Why?”

“No, I wasn’t!” Dani denies again, her voice sharp and biting. “It’s none of my business what—or who—you do at a party.”

Paige’s chest tightens at the bitterness in Dani’s words. She feels the sting of them like a slap to the face. “If you don’t care, then why are you acting like this? Why are you even here?”

“I’m here with Beau,” Dani says, her voice firm. “And I don’t care what you do. So, why don’t you go on back to making out with random girls, yeah?”

Paige’s breath catches in her throat, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “God, you’re so full of shit,” she mutters, shaking her head. “You act like you don’t care, but you do. I know you do. Why can’t you just admit it, for fucks’ sake?”

They stare at each for a long moment, face-to-face in silence, anger and something else surrounding the air between them. But before either of them can say anything more, Beau appeared out of nowhere, stepping between them.

“Is there a problem here?” Beau asked, his eyes narrowing at Paige, his tone casual but the tension in his stance clear. He steps in front of Dani like a shield, glaring at Paige.

The blonde rolls her eyes at him, her frustration doubling. “No,” she snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just having a conversation.”

Beau scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Doesn’t look like much of a conversation to me. Looks like you’re harassing my girlfriend, Bueckers.”

Paige’s stomach churns at the word, the jealousy like a punch to the gut. It’s not unfamiliar at this point, but it still gives Paige the same effect. “Can’t you just fuck off?” she retorts with venom. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m her boyfriend, so, yeah, I think it does,” Beau argues, stepping closer to Paige, trying to intimidate her. But Paige isn’t scared of him, even in her drunken state. He may be more muscular—the football kind of body type—but she’s taller, a couple of inches on him, and she meets his challenge with a steady glare.

“I don’t give a shit what you think,” Paige bites out, stepping closer herself, their faces inches apart now. “But Dani and I? We have history. And you—” she jabs her finger into his chest, “are just a replacement.”

Beau’s face twists in anger, his hands balling into fists. “Watch your mouth, Bueckers.”

“Or what—” the blonde begins, but before she can get her words out completely, two figures are by her side, hands pulling her away slightly.

“Paige,” Thaliah mutters, trying to tug at her arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Jalen stands there too, shaking his head. “Yep, come on,” he says. And then he lets his gaze shift between Beau and Dani, glaring at the pair. “Neither of them are worth it.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, her eyes still locked on Dani’s, searching for anything that would tell her this isn’t over. But Dani won’t even look at her. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest, her whole body tense.

And so, Paige id about to turn around, to let Thaliah and Jalen pull her away, when she hears Beau’s voice again.

“It’s good you and her aren’t friends anymore,” Beau says loudly, looking directly at Dani. His next words are sharp and venomous. “Don’t want a dyke like her corrupting you.”

The world seems to freeze.

Paige’s heart stops. The word dyke echoes in her ears, and the blood drains from her face. She can feel the heat rising in her chest, the anger boiling over like a volcano about to erupt.

Even Dani’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock. But she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t defend Paige.

Without thinking, without even hesitating for a second, Paige turns and lunges at Beau, her fists flying before anyone can react.

Her first punch lands squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. She feels pain erupt across her knuckles, and she shakes her hand for a moment. The shock on his face is almost satisfying—almost. But Paige doesn’t stop there. She she shoves him backwards now, hands at his chest, and he stumbles slightly.

“You fucking—” Beau starts, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Thaliah and Jalen are on her in an instant, pulling Paige back with more force now. Thaliah’s voice is almost panicked, trying to calm her down as Jalen stands between her and Beau, his hands outstretched like a human barrier. He glares at the Hudson boy, saying firmly, “Back the fuck up.”

“Paige, come on, it’s not worth it!” Thaliah’s practically shouting now, her grip on Paige’s arm tight.

“Let go of me!” Paige yells, her voice cracking with fury. She struggles against their hold, her eyes locked on Beau, who stands there, looking more shocked than anything. But there’s no fear in his eyes—only smugness, actually.

Beau wipes his mouth, glancing at the blood on his hand where her punch landed. He sneers. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Can’t handle the truth, can you?”

Paige’s vision blurs with anger, and she tries to lunge at him again, but Thaliah and Jalen hold her back.

Dani, who’s been frozen this whole time, finally speaks up. “Beau, just stop.”

Beau’s glances down at Dani, almost grinning. He clearly is enjoying the chaos he’s caused. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking, babe.”

Paige is done. She’s fucking done.

“Fuck you,” she spits at Beau, staring at him from behind Jalen. He just smirks back. And then she turns her attention to Dani, adding, “And, fuck you, too. You’re such a fucking coward, Dani.”

Paige rips her arm from Thaliah’s grasp, turning from the group and walking straight out of the house, wanting nothing more than to just go home.

THE DAYS that follow are a blur of basketball practices, classes, and restless nights. Paige tries to focus, tries to lose herself in the familiar routine, but nothing feels right. Every time she steps onto the court, her movements feel sluggish, disconnected. She’s there, but she isn’t really present. Her mind is elsewhere, stuck in a loop of memories and worries that she can’t escape.

Coach Cosgriff notices, of course. It would be impossible not to. Paige has always been the one to set the pace, to push herself and her teammates to be better. But now, she’s lagging behind, missing cues, and snapping at anyone who tries to point it out.

“Paige, my office. Now,” Coach says one afternoon after a particularly grueling practice.

Paige knows what’s coming, but she follows him without protest, dragging her feet as she walks. The other girls exchange glances but don’t say anything. They know better than to try to talk to her when she’s in one of these moods.

Coach’s office is small, cramped with old trophies and posters of past teams. He sits behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he gestures for Paige to sit down before him.

“What’s going on with you, Paige?” he asks, leaning forward, his tone soft but firm. “This isn’t like you. You’ve been off for weeks now. Is it school? Family? Whatever it is, you need to get it sorted, because it’s affecting your game.”

Paige looks down at her hands, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s… complicated,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Coach sighs, running a hand over his face. “Life is complicated, Paige. But you need to find a way to deal with it. You’re the leader of this team, and if you’re not focused, the others won’t be either.“

“I know,” Paige replies, her throat tight. “I’m sorry, Coach. I’m just… going through something right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Coach offers, surprising Paige. He isn’t usually the type to get involved in his players’ personal lives, but Paige guesses he’s worried about how much this is affecting her performance.

Paige shakes her head, though. She couldn’t talk about it, not without breaking down, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Besides, it would be more embarrassing than anything to have to explain how much losing someone—that’s technically still there—has affected her. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need some time.”

Coach watches her for a moment, then nods slowly. “Alright. But you need to get your head back in the game, Paige. I can’t have you on the court if you’re not all there. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach,” Paige responds quickly, feeling the weight of his words settle on her shoulders.

“Take tonight off,” Coach says, surprising her again. “Clear your head, do whatever you need to do. But when you come back tomorrow, I need the Paige Bueckers I know back on that court. The season starts in less than a month, Paige.”

Paige nods, standing up to leave. “I’ll do my best, Coach.”

As she’s about to walk out the door, Coach Cosgriff stops her, saying, “Wait.” She turns, eyes curious as she meets his gaze, wondering what else he has to say. He offers a small smile, telling her, “I went through a tough time when I was your age, too. It’s difficult to be a teenager. But the best advice I was ever given is that whatever problem you’ve got going on—you gotta either drop it, forget it, and move on, or you fix it. I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s true.”

Paige lets the words sink in.

Drop it, forget it, move on.

Or fix it.

Fuck, she doesn’t know.

[shardsofmarxx]

Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff

Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)

Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)

As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.

“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something. 

You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”

“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.” 

You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.

“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.

“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”

You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”

"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.

“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.

Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.

“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”

You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself? 

You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.

"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.

That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives. 

“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”

You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did. 

He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”

You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation. 

Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”

“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did. 

“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.

You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important. 

You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.

“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.

You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.

Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.

You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.

“Y/N!!! Hel-!”

You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.

“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.

“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.

“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.

“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine. 

“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.

“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”

Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt. 

After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.

“And now, the grand finale!”

You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.

“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed. 

Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating. 

You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.

Suddenly, it stopped.

“Hey Y/N.”

As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze. 

“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.

You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.

You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs. 

Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.

“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”

You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. 

Basically, you looked like crap.

Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.

He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault. 

"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”

He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.

“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”

“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.

Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.

“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."

Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.

“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.

Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”

You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest. 

“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.

“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”

You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.

Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke. 

“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.

“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."

Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.

“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, we sure do.”

Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.

“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response. 

“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.

You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.

“What did you say, Spencer?”

“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms. 

“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thanks so much for reading!

[smuutboxx]

It’s nice seeing more male reader blogs pop up, im excited to see what you’ll write in the future.

I’m requesting a Jax x male reader with the classic scenario of getting trapped in a small space together. An idea is that the group is on an adventure and the two gets pushed in by one of the things they are supposed to be capturing, but you can do whatever you’d like on how they got locked up in there. I’d also like to quickly request that the reader isn’t shy or anything, he has both bark and bite to his character yk? (You can make the reader dom or sub since it doesn’t really matter to me, but it would be appreciated if the reader is a dom in this story) Thanks!

"Hide And Seek."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: Thank you so much for the kind words :-) I love this request as well!

Genre: Smut (18+)

Pairings: Jax (The Amazing Digital Circus) x You (Male Reader)

Warnings: None, other than sex obviously. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’re doing what?”

Pomni inquired, her head tilted in confusion with her finger beside her cheek. ‘How very animated of her’ you thought in observation. “A classic game of hide and seek! Because if I sit here for any longer and continue to think I’ll blow my f@%#ing brains out!” Ragatha smiled, almost in a threatening way. You nodded at her explanation, you’ve been stuck here long enough to understand how not to think too hard about reality turning out to be a hoax. “--Not counting!” Jax's' ears shot up as he quickly put his index finger on his nose. You followed his action as quickly as possible. Then Gangle, Kinger, Zooble, Ragatha, aaaaaaaaand…

“Suck it Pomni!” Jax cackled, taking your hand and running off. You had realized you had taken a liking to Jax and he of course reciprocated those same feelings. You weren’t sure if he was entirely attracted to you like you were to him – but he wasn’t a very subtle guy. You look back and see everyone scatter as if someone just broke a bottle of alcohol on the floor. Pomni groaned and lay flat on the floor, her arms and legs spread out as she counted out loud. “1….2…3…-” Her counting continued as you searched around with Jax for a possible hiding spot. Something great, something that would take hours! Somewhere...private. You were only a man, why not take this opportunity to be in such a closed-off space with him? “Psst!” Jax motioned for a small closet in a hidden-ish area. You grinned, letting out a mischievous giggle with him as you rushed in, tugging him with you by his overall straps.

Now it was dark.

“Where is this even in the circus?” You whispered, realizing you weren’t sure where you two had run off to. “No idea, it’s good though. Right?” You felt him turn to you, his ears flowing with the turn a second after. You nodded and smiled at him, he somehow smiled wider. Your head quickly whipped to the door – thinking you heard a noise. “Wha-” Jax gave an attempt to talk but you swiftly covered his mouth. His ears perked up, hearing Pomni's' footsteps. “Helllloooo?” She called out, her tone of voice seemed more freaked out than playful like it should have been. She didn’t enjoy being alone here. You and Jax both held your... breath? And waited for Pomni to pass by.

..her footsteps passed. You both let out a sigh of relief. “Hold on.” You whispered, lifting yourself slightly to check outside of the door. Before you could check you felt the doorknob fail on you. “Jax?! There was a lock on this door??” You whisper-yelled. Jax shot up, hitting his head against something and letting out a hiss, then covered his mouth. You both stood still, looking at each other with terrified eyes. Once about 30 seconds passed, you gave him an irritated look. “Hey! Don’t look at me like that! I had no idea!” He said still in a hushed tone. “Where are your thousand keys?!” You let go of the doorknob and poke his chest aggressively. He shrugged, his shit-eating grin still plastered on his face as his ears lowered and his hands up in defense.

“Dude.” You push him down as he lands on his ass, legs spread. “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I seriously had no idea!” He pleaded crawling over to you. You huffed and sat in the opposite corner with your arms crossed. Yeah, you wanted to be in a dark and private area with him, but with the ability to come out at some point! Stupid ass rabbit. Jax giggled quietly as he got closer to you, “You don’t wanna be stuck in here with me?” He said in a low voice, his eyes squinting with his wide smile. You learned that not only does Jax…really like you but he’s extremely touch-starved. When you showed him affection the first time he never stopped touching you.

“No, nobody would enjoy this.” “Except you.” “Why me?” “Cause I’m your favorite.” “Your ego is high.” “You're my favorite.” “I know.”

You felt two big hands on your thighs, your legs naturally spread for them. Yikes. The only problem Jax had was your clothes being on your body, which were currently being removed. “Jax.” Why were you trying to stop him? You didn’t want him to, but you also wanted to see how desperate he’d get once he took all your clothes off. It’s probably been years since he’d got to be buried in anything. He shoved his body against you, almost aggressively trying to be as close to you as possible. “It’s cold.” Great, your clothes were off, now your ass was bare on the floor. “Hey, handsome,” Jax whispered into your ear, suddenly wrapping his hand around your cock. You jolted and uncrossed your arms quickly to wrap your arms around him. “Whaaaat?” You whined quietly, shoving your head into his neck. “You wanted us to get stuck in here, didn’t you? You slut.” ‘Fuck him, oh god. Fuck.’ You held onto him tighter, his degrading words heading straight to your cock. Which he felt in his hand as he continued to move his hand faster and faster up and down.. 'up and down..aah..up and down..fuck..’ -- “Jax..!” You moan in his ear, a little louder than you should have. He stopped his hand, letting out entirely. “No!” You whisper yell, bucking your hips in the hair for something. “Please- Jax. C’mon!” He grabbed your face and pulled you closer to his face. “Shut the f#%! up, do you want Caine to catch us?” He scolded, and you shook your head. You looked up at him pleadingly, tugging at his overalls. “Mmhh…m’sorry.” You heard Jax giggle again. “Good boy.” He allowed you to take his overalls off finally, sliding them down just below his waist to reveal himself.

You weren’t gonna ask why you had genitals, but you weren’t going to complain. He took your leg, lifting it over his shoulder. ‘God, finally.’ You thought, covering your mouth with one hand as you looked down to watch him slide into you. You squeaked as he made his way inside you, whispering his name over and over again as if it were a spell and you were wishing for something to happen. The moment he felt himself settle inside you he processed the feeling. You were so warm, fuck so warm. He needed more, god he needed more. Jax leaned over, gripped your hips, and dug his face into your shoulder still with your leg on his as he slammed his hips into you. You dig your nails into his back, a desperate whiney moan leaving your throat.

“Fuck you feel so good. you feel so good. you feel so good. you feel so good–”

You wanted to giggle at his actions but the way he was plowing himself into you wouldn’t let you speak, so you grabbed his ears and tugged onto them to pull him away from your shoulder which was full of drool. He let out a high-pitched moan, his cartoonish eyes rolling back. ‘Didn’t he say to be quiet?’ You managed to think, feeling your climax coming closer and closer with each aggressive thrust into your hips. As soon as you let go of his ears his head shot back to your shoulder like a magnet. Suddenly he bit down, shoving his cock deep inside you and cumming inside without warning.

You gasped at the new warmth and wrapped your hand around his throat as if to punish him – but that kinky little shit enjoyed it. He kept his hips moving, slightly slower than before as you felt your high coming in rapidly. Your quiet moans began louder and louder, squeezing your grip around Jax’s throat. You arched your back and made an absolute fucking mess of yourself. You came all over your stomach, scratching at Jax’s arm to make him stop moving his hips as the overstimulation became uncomfortable. He slowed his hips down soon, pulling out and taking a good look at you.

“..thanks.” He huffed, wiping the drool from his chin and eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes, catching your breath. “You needed that.” You tease, holding his face gently and rubbing your thumb against his cheek.

What a silly rabbit.

[luizd3ad]

Game Time | Poly!Bartylus x GN!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader x Regulus Black

WC: 700

CW: swearing, mentions of Bartys dad 🤢, modern AU, mistreatment of Sims, anxiety

Author's Note: Honestly I just got this idea bc my sims hyper fixation is coming back. The little bit of French that’s in here I got from google please tell me if it’s wrong.

Summary: Regulus comes home to you and Barty playing the sims.

Someone tell me to stop making theses for ever fic please. I won't listen but someone should still tel me.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Regulus had spent the day with Sirius, just catching up. 

They've been finding it harder to do so since leaving Hogwarts so they try to make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. 

He did enjoy spending time with his brother but right now all he wanted to do was go home to his partners. 

You and Barty were like a breath of fresh air to him after his social battery was drained. Just being in the presence of both of you was enough to make him feel better. 

Regulus finally crossed the threshold to his shared flat. He took his shoes and jacket off at the entrance and put them in their designated places.

But then he noticed the flat was quiet which was rare considering Barty lived there.

“Mon amours? I’m home?”

Regulus called out looking around the flat curiously. 

No one was in the living room. He didn't hear anyone in the kitchen. 

He started walking down the hall that held their shared bedroom and the guest room/ office when he heard them.

“Angel, I love you but you're wrong!”

“Watch it Crouch! Or you'll end up in the basement next..”

Regulus was only slightly taken back when he heard his partner say that to their boyfriend. 

Honestly it wouldn't be the first time he heard them say something like that.

Barty then gasped and started shirking something about ‘Never feeling so betrayed’ which was something Barty would say often. 

Regulus took a deep breath mentally preparing himself and then opened the door to the office, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight in front of him.

There they were, the loves of his life hunched over the computer playing the muggle game that Remus had shown them.

‘The Sims’ he thinks it was called, but he couldn't quite remember. 

“Barty.. Did you take the ladder out of the pool again?”

Barty then gasped as if the thought was inconceivable. 

“What would make you think such a thing, angel?”

“I mean other than the fact that you've done it before? The sim’s name is Bartemius Crouch and he looks exactly like your father.”

Barty then giggles looking proud of himself. 

“Leave him there he deserves it.”

Barty says with a wide smile.

Regulus chuckles a little louder this time and shakes his head finally catching the attention of his partners.

You and Barty both turn your heads to look at Regulus. 

You send him a big smile and say.

“Hi my love, how's Sirius?”

“Sirius is fine. Now what are you two doing?”

Regulus say still standing in the doorway of the room.

“I'm trying to show our darling boyfriend that there's more to The Sims than killing the people that you wish you could kill in real life.”

“And I'm trying to show our angel that killing people in the game is the most fun you can have.”

“Wait, so you make the characters people you actually know?”

You and Barty look at each other and then look at Regulus with raised eyebrows.

“Obviously.”

Barty says looking at Regulus like it should be common sense.

“Wait so you have a character of me?”

“Of course we do.”

You say then turning back to the computer clicking on the mouse a few times and then waving Regulus over to show him a big house with sims of the three of you.

“Is this supposed to be our house?”

“Yes. Unfortunately we’re not all technically dating on here, since that's not an option.”

You explain while Barty crosses his arms while pouting and saying.

“Which is stupid.” 

Regulus just smiles at Barty and kisses his head. 

“It’s okay ​mon beau because we’re dating in real life.”

Regulus says while running his hand through his boyfriend's hair.

You and Barty spent the rest of the night showing Regulus your favorite parts of the game. 

Regulus found himself having a good time whether it was just because he got to spend time with the two of you or because he actually found the game entertaining he didn't know nor did he care.

He was just content and happy to be there.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! catboy! worshipper! levi

desc : you picked up a stray catboy from the alleyway and you find that maybe he has more problems than you’re equipped to deal with.

word count : 812

cws : yandere themes, scenting, jealous levi, dubcon implications, smut implications, murder mentions but it’s levi killing his competition and bringing it back as a gift and to prove he’s better than them, slight delusional thinking, desperate clingy bf behavior but you’re not dating and he’s more of an estranged roommate, MASSIVE personality switch up, ooc levi but i genuinely wanna see this man desperate and begging, implied dissociation, this is kind of bad im ngl.

author note : someone requested this, sorry it took so long to get to it. also, here’s a little something i had in my drafts while i finish editing this commission.

you remember how pitiful levi had looked in that alleyway — his clothes torn and too big on his seemingly frail body. he was drenched from the rain, the mud that had been caked onto him softening as shivers wracked his body. the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, and you’d noticed that he was bleeding… and badly.

you remember the way his ears perked up, his gaze sharpening as he regarded you with a mixture of apathy and contempt; the way his pupils had narrowed into slits and his tail swished in warning. he’d attacked you that night, the wound on your hip later scarring. the levi from that night was so similar, yet so different from the man in front of you.

you were frozen in place, your eyes darting between levi and the corpse he had haphazardly discarded onto your living room floor. his face was marred with blood, a subtle look in his eyes that screamed pride. it didn’t feel real — there was no way this was happening. not to you of all people.

“what the fuck—“ you gesture to the body, your eyes filling with tears. “— is this?

“what’s wrong? don’t you like it?” levi asks, his expression morphing into concern the moment he recognized your appall.

was he serious?

“levi, you killed someone and brought them back to my apartment!” you exclaim, feeling bile rise in the back of your throat as you tear your gaze away from the corpse. “my home has become a fucking crime scene!”

levi’s brows furrow, his ears flattening at your words. seeing him clench his fist, you instinctively take a step back — a feeble attempt to put distance between the two of you. he doesn’t like that.

levi knows he’d be able to catch you if you decided to run, but he wanted you to stay — willingly. he didn’t want to have to force you, knowing that would only put a strain on your relationship. sure, he was biologically much faster than the average human, but he didn’t want to have to resort to using his anatomy to his advantage again.

he doesn’t regret killing any of them — especially not this one. this man was weaker than all of the others, obviously incapable of taking care of you properly. how was that human boy supposed to provide for you? protect you?

“that just shows im better for you, doesn’t it? if they can be taken out so easily, they couldn’t protect you. not like i can.” levi hisses, his features tightening with frustration. “i did you a favor. they would’ve gotten you hurt.”

his tone takes on a more desperate edge as he scrambles to justify his actions, his hand latching onto your shirt in an attempt to keep you in place.

“why are you looking at me like that…? like i’m some kind of monster? i’m not — i did this for you! for us!” levi shouts.

you can’t bring yourself to say anything, your mind spinning as you try to wrap your head around everything. levi had never been like this before; he’d always been distant and put-together, keeping you at an arm's length no matter how hard you tried to grow closer with him.

“say something… please.” the man begs, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his face in the curve of your throat. levi takes a shaky inhale, your scent doing little to calm his racing heart. usually, it worked like a charm, but the cortisol radiating off of you worried him.

“let go of me, levi.” you mumble, your shaking fingers pushing at his shoulders. he only sniffles in response, his tail curling around your thigh.

“please — please don’t push me away.” levi pleads, his voice cracking. “i—i need you! i’ll die without you! please don’t do this to me…!”

“get out.”

levi’s hold on you tightens, his touch slowly becoming painful. despite your squirming and growing fear, levi only pulls you closer, peppering kisses along your throat and shoulders, mumbling apologies and promising to never do it again. yet, despite the ache in your chest, you stand firm in your decision.

“leave.”

levi’s body goes rigid, his fingers gripping your waist harshly as his voice grows quiet. “we can do this the hard way or the easy way — your choice... but, you’re staying with me whether you want to or not.”

levi takes your silence as an agreement, lapping at and kissing the focal points of your pheromones to mask your scent with his own. “‘m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” he breathes, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

his movements become more frantic, nipping at your skin in between planting open mouthed kisses against any visible flesh. “i’ll fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name — until the only scent on you is mine.”

[elliebarker]

you are absolutely insane. + ( e. williams )

category: lifeguard!ellie x competitive swimmer!female!reader oneshot

summary: since your school’s swim season has been let out you convince yourself to get off your couch and go to your local rec-center to get some practice in. ellie has just moved into an off-campus apartment and needs to get a night job in order to keep up with her rent. 

warnings: suggestive, implied smut, use of the word “baby”, mentions of alcohol usage, overall cringy

word count: 2.7k

author's note: as 68..1% of you requested,

“just…just give me a couple more weeks man.” ellie pinched the space in between her brows, very obviously annoyed.

“i’m not doing this again ellie,” a robotic voice came from the speaker of her phone, “i can’t keep covering for you. get a fucking job.”

“but– i’m in class all day! when the hell am i supposed to work?” ellie barked into her phone, dreading the noise complaints she’d get from her neighbors. maybe the size of her apartment was a glow-up from her dorm, but the people living around her sure weren’t. 

“i- i don’t fucking know. drop a class or something? work at night?”

that conversation is how she landed here. clocking in at 6 at a rec center not too far from campus to sit and watch senior citizens go back and forth in a pool and hope they don’t drown so she doesn’t actually have to do her job. decked out in red and white ellie propped herself up onto the towering “LIFEGUARD” chair and watched each of the seconds pass on the big red digital clock displayed on the wall. little did she know today was the day she’d meet you.

you walked, well, rather you were being pulled into the pool by your friend olivia. you guys had been on your school’s swim team together and after mopping around your dorm for almost 2 weeks after your final meet she decided you, and a couple other girls from the team, would meet up at the pool a couple days after school and just, “have fun,” as she had called it. and you decided to go along with it, you could use the excuse to get out of the house once in a while without getting absolutely hammered. you served the area of the pool: a couple lanes taken up, a brunette lifeguard scooping out the newcomers (you and your friends), a bunch of lockers scattering the west wall, holy shit that lifeguard was hot. 

you immediately turned your head back to take in the entirety of the brunette lifeguard, freckled and blush-dusted face with a set of emerald eyes. you noticed a crooked name tag that read “ellie'' before hearing your name being called by our team mates.

“coming!” you called to your friends and jogged over to grab your stuff before heading to lane 6 (the one closest to ellie) next to ashley and began your workout.

ellie was flabbergasted, astonished, she touched god. never in all her years of living had she been so…drawn…to a girl. okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but by the moon and the earth you were gorgeous. the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the way your smile shines in the echo-y pool’s fluorescent lights, the way your eyes lingered on her for the right amount of time. she was shamelessly gawking at you. i mean– she had too. it was her job!!! nevermind the lame-o senior citizens in lane 2 that were statistically more likely to drown…she just had to look at the way your arms cut through the water.

the hours lingered on, and to your surprise you had no idea what a couple weeks off would do to you. you were practically panting after each 100. and, obviously, olivia and ashley had finished before you.

“go home,” you said, “i’ve just got a cool down left.” your friends agreed and you turned around to face the flags again. a loud clash, the doors closing, made itself noted behind you before you began the last part of your set.

then, finally, after many flip turns and a few glances at the rec’s lifeguard you were done. you pulled your cap off and slipped out of the pool, gathering all your stuff and heading back. after you finished drying yourself off you looked back at the pool, all the lane lines stripped, holy fuck that was fast to see ellie rolling a cart of flippers back into the storage closet. 

“haven’t seen you around here before,” she smiled. ellie was walking toward you as you finished stuffing your (still soaking) kick-board in your bag.

“my school season is out so i’m just practicing here, when my schedule allows me, before short course starts up again.” you explain, tucking your hair behind your ear. and then realizing how fucking dorky and cheesy it was and how you totally embarrassed yourself in front of your very hot lifeguard.

“cool, cool, cool, cool” you hear her answer, and you could swear you felt her eyes scanning you. you finished zipping up your bag, its ziiip echoing throughout the large and empty pool, having been deserted by all your teammates. wait. all your teammates? like- even your-ride-home-olivia was gone. 

“shit.” you muttered.

“huh? oh, sorry!” ellie stuttered out, realizing how stupid and awkward and probably unprofessional her talking to you was. UGH! I’M SO STUPID she mentally slapped herself convincing herself that it was just her delusion that had pictured up any image of you actually acknowledging her existence.

“no–no, it's not,” you began, “i lost my ride– i– my ride left, i’m…stranded.”

“oh.”

“yeah,” you nervously chuckled

“i mean, this sounds weird, but,” she said, “i could drive you?”

“getting into a stranger's car late at night…” you questioned, like you were pondering it, “why not?”

“okay don’t put it like that,” she giggled.

“nah, man. that would actually be a lifesaver! and i’ve seen you around campus, you don’t give me any reason to suspect you’d axe murder me so…”

“alright,” she smirked, grabbing her keys from the knob of the storage closet door and heading out the door, with you not far behind.

you don’t know how it happened but what was going to a quick drop off at your place from your rec-center’s lifeguard turned into a dance party and the two of you screaming lyrics and hollering out of her window, having the time of your lives. earlier that night, when you first got in the car, ellie figured to blur any awkward silence she’d hand you the aux. turns out, you both had crazy similar music tastes and after that you guys clicked instantly. you were having so much fun and that's why when the bright familiar lights of home appeared in the rear-view mirror you kind of wished you lived somewhere else, farther away.

“thanks, again,” you looked at ellie.

“anytime,” she said, smiling at you. with regret that you didn’t say anything else you closed the car door and walked over to your front door and spent that whole night thinking over her.

unbeknownst to you, ellie would be thinking about you too, not only thinking about you but talking about you to the one person who would always lend an ear to all her girl problems: dina.

“she’s just so” “so what ellie? i need details.”

“pretty? beautiful? gorgeous? perfect?”

“did you at least get her number?”

“oh.”

“oh what ellie? oh my god you dumba–” her NUMBER! ellie thought of course! duh! i’m. so. stupid!!! 

that was her next mission. get your number, your instagram, your anything, hold onto anything to be able to get to know you better. luckily for her, it wasn’t that hard, your visit to the rec-center had not been a one-time thing, in fact you and your teammates had begun a routine. and ellie drank up every glance she got at you. she had gone over and over different scenarios in which she’d ask for your number, “if you ever need a ride again,” “thought you could use this,” and after surveying that they were all equally cringy and accepting the fact she’d never have the same confidence as she did the day she met you she realized, she didn’t have to get your number, she could just give you hers. so, it was a nice surprise to see a little yellow slip, a post-it note, atop your bag adorned with her number and a little “ellie :)” as soon as you were home, showered, and ready for bed you opened your phone, sending a quick, “hey!” and introducing yourself before plugging in your phone and dozing off. ellie would deny it to anyone she knew but she totally responded immediately after you texted her and were, to say the least, disappointed when you didn’t text back after 10 minutes, half an hour, 2 hours. ellie decided to not let her stupid crush affect her and let sleep consume her. needless to say, when she woke up to see a “new message” notification she nearly leapt out of bed.

after the whole olivia-leaving-you-alone situation ellie had offered to drive you home from practice and who wouldn’t take her up on that offer? not to mention that driving home with her was fucking awesome. you got to play anything you wanted on aux and she would always get food with you. it was like meeting your soulmate, you guys had almost everything in common you could talk about whatever you wanted. she was the yin to your yang. whatever foods or things disgusted you, she loved, and she would be happy to take them off your hands. there was no awkward stage, you guys were practically meant for each other.

it had been barely a month yet every time you walked into your rec-center you were greeted with the yelling of your name and ellie sloppily climbing off her lifeguard chair to come up and hug you. you had met dina and jesse, ellie’s best friends, and ellie had met yours. it seems that nearly every waking moment of your day was spent in her company, not that you were complaining. you were sitting on ellie’s bed while she was scrolling on her phone on the floor, back propped up against her bed’s frame.

“hey,” she began, “dina’s inviting me to a party, wanna go?” she asked, turning her head to look at you.

“sure, why not?”

“sick,” she smiled and turned back to her phone, texting back dina, you assumed. a couple hours passed and you were in the bathroom, adjusting your outfit and making sure everything looked good. ellie stepped into the door frame, keys giggling on her fingers.

“ready to go?” she asked, smirking at you. you nodded and followed her out the front door.

noise was blaring and people clambered all around some kid’s dorm. to say the party was full of life was an understatement. you and ellie made your way over to the party’s make-shift bar and poured yourself a cup of your designated drinks. you didn’t have to do much looking to find dina, who was dancing in the middle of the living room. she immediately spotted you guys, deserting the group of girls she was hanging out with, and ran over to you.

“hey guys!” she greeted. lets just say whatever-the-fuck you were drinking worked, fast, because next thing you knew you were dancing, laughing, and joking about things you never would sober. so was ellie. so much so, you don’t know how much time had passed, but you were having the time of your life on the dance floor with some random feel-good song in the background. and ellie pressed up against your back. and you sure as hell weren’t complaining.

you turned around and wrapped your arms around her neck and continued to dance (grind) into her lap. and somewhere though your drunken haze her arms were on your arms, hips, totally feeling you up. and then her lips were alternating between yours and your neck. you both stumbled from the middle of the dance floor, lips still connected, to some wall off to the side. from then on, ellie got more adventurous, for lack of a better word. hands moving every ten seconds. they were cupping your face, then your tits, hips, ass, and then your face again. you couldn’t say you weren’t, either, hands went from delicately perched on her shoulders to the back of her head to desperately grasping for handfuls of her hair. the two of you barely came up for air until–

“let’s move this,” she practically panted, “somewhere else,” pulling you in the nearest unoccupied room. and as suddenly as her hands and lips had left you, they were back on you again. she began wondering again, this time however, her hand pulled at your waistband, waiting for you to nod or acknowledge what she was trying to do. it was you who parted your guys’ lips this time.

“you.” you began, making sure to catch your breath, “are absolutely,” you continued, “insane,” you finally huffed out, before smashing your lips back together and pulling your own hands at your waistband.

(fade to black bc i can’t write smuttttttt)

ellie woke up, groaning, with an awful headache. then, when she finally regained consciousness, she surveyed the room she was in. definitely not hers. her clothes, party clothes, were scattered on the floor and the only thing that remained was her black sports bra. she didn’t even realize there was another living human being next to her until she felt the cool breeze of your peaceful sleepy breath. you were lying next to her, presumably naked under the covers. your hair was messy and knotted and taking up all of the pillow and your makeup had worn off. and you were utterly gorgeous. ellie couldn’t help but smile. bask in the moment. the little time she had left to admire before she realized you were literally sitting next to her, unconscious and topless.

“fuck.” that's all she said. that's all she could say. she was so ready to run, let her flight kick in. and she would’ve, had you not wrapped your arms around her and pulled her back down. you, unconsciously (totally), rested your head in between her shoulder and neck and sighed. yeah ellie thought i could get used to this. 

shoes squeaked and whistles blew. eveything was hectic. you were just trying to get into meet-mentality when a familiar, comforting, voice came from behind you.

“hey baby,” ellie, your girlfriend of 2 months, came up and hugged you. “came to wish you good luck,” she smiled as you turned to face her, catching a glimpse of dina and jesse waving from the corner of your eye.

“aww,” you leaned up to kiss her, “that's so sweet! thank you ellie. and i love you, but, i have to go warm up i’ll be right back.” you said.

“yeah, yeah, babe, don’t let me hold you back.” ellie chuckled and went back to find her seat next to jesse and dina. a couple hours had passed and your first event was coming up shortly. you stretched and made your way over to the blocks. and as soon as the microphone sounded, you were off, you were trying your absolute hardest. and it definitely paid off. when you looked up at the scoreboard next to your lane you checked your time. and you shaved 8 whole seconds. you could barely contain your excitement. once you were out of the water you ran to hug ellie, not caring if you got her wet. (in more ways than one iykwim lol) (im sorry) (that was uncalled for) 

“i’m so sorry baby,” ellie said.

“huh?”

“your 200? you added like, a minute.”

“what?” you were so utterly confused, “oh my god! no,” you laughed in realization, “ellie, that was my 100. it's long course season. i didn’t add anything, i literally went 8 seconds faster!”

“ohh!” ellie said, nodding, pretending she understood anything you just said but congratulated you anyway.

and for being a lifeguard, your girlfriend was a shit swimmer.

“how the fuck did you even get this job.”

“shut up.” ellie was only halfway in, red “LIFEGUARD” swimsuit and trunks on, and she was already turning a ghostly white. “i can… function… in the water perfectly fine.” she said, trying not to chatter her teeth. you reached for her hand to pull her into you.

“your hands are literally purple.”

“well maybe your just super-human and can’t feel how f-fucking cold it is.” that night after you guys drove home ellie was cuddled up by the fireplace, a little cold already forming. you had just exited your after-practice hot shower and were nice and cozy, there was just one thing– person– you were missing. you laid down facing ellie and snuggled up to her. it was the mundane nights like this that were the ones worth living for.

[b1tchyboyxd]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Stalker x Male Reader.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

Tw: Stalking (obviously)

Warning: this has not been proofread and English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are errors.

No pronouns are used.

Originally there was supposed to be more, but I had to cut the text in half because of the word limit lol.

──────────── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ────────────

You couldn't get this thought out of your head.

The fake account on Instagram.

At first it seemed harmless enough.

Just a few strange messages here and there, nothing particularly alarming.

But as time went on, the messages became a little more unsettling.

The account seemed to be monitoring your every move.

It sent messages mentioning the coffee shop you had recently visited, the clothing you had worn that day, even the route you had taken to get home.

You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just a bored troll or a mistaken stranger.

But as the messages continued, the feeling that someone was watching every move you made grew more and more persistent.

And then the messages took a darker turn.

The account started sending you photos - pictures of places you had been, people you had seen - with the message "I see you."

You felt your stomach drop as you stared at the photos.

It was clear now that whoever was behind this was not just a harmless prankster.

They were someone who was obsessively watching and tracking your every move.

You tried to think of anyone in your life who could possibly be behind this.

Ex-lovers, enemies, even acquaintances came to mind.

But no one seemed to fit the bill.

The more you thought about it, the more panicked you felt.

The idea that someone was stalking you was terrifying, but what was even more unsettling was the feeling of helplessness it gave you.

No matter how much you tried to stay vigilant, it seemed like the account was always ahead of you.

You considered reporting it to the authorities, but something held you back.

Maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t be taken seriously, or the idea that involving the police could just make things worse.

You debated blocking the account, but something inside you kept you from doing it.

It was as if a part of you was drawn to it, like a twisted form of fascination with the danger it represented.

You started to notice strange things happening around you.

Maybe it was just coincidence, but it felt like the stalker was leaving you subtle reminders of their presence.

A random flower left on your doorstep, a faint smell of cologne in your apartment that you couldn't explain...You tried to laugh it off, telling yourself you were being paranoid.

But the more it happened, the more it felt like the stalker was toying with you, enjoying the fear and uncertainty they were instilling in you.You even started to feel a strange thrill mixed in with the fear. It was as if the stalker's attention was a form of validation, as if you craved their gaze on you.

The thought disturbed you, but you couldn't deny its presence in your mind.

The stalker's obsession with you seemed almost intimate, as if they had a deep understanding of your fears and desires.

You couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing you like a puppet, feeding off your mounting paranoia and fear.

The messages started to take on a different tone, becoming more suggestive and possessive.

The stalker seemed to relish the power they had over you, the way they could make you jump at the sound of a notification on your phone.

You couldn't help but feel a strange sense of connection to the stalker.

They knew things about you that no one else did. They saw through your carefully constructed facade and laid bare the raw, vulnerable parts of your soul.

Despite the fear and paranoia, there was a small part of you that was almost flattered by their attention.

It was as if the stalker had singled you out, making you feel special and desired in the most disturbing of ways.

You tried to fight these thoughts, but they insisted on lingering in the back of your mind.

The stalker's words had burrowed deep into your psyche, leaving you questioning your own feelings and reactions.

You began to notice patterns in the stalker's behavior.

They seemed to know exactly when to send a message to keep you on edge, to feed your paranoia and fear. It was as if they had a sixth sense for your weakest moments, and took pleasure in exploiting them..

───────────── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ────────────

Part 2?

[norris-lando]

it's nice to have a friend

Lando Norris x reader, mentions of Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings: smut, angst, fighting, breakup

author's note: Soooo... This was inspired by so many songs, I'm not going to list them all but the songs are by Taylor Swift, Gracie Abrams and Sabrina Carpenter. It's a longish one with a few twists. I hope you like it! :)

word count: 6.1k

school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one, 'wanna hang out?', yeah sounds like fun

You went through your camera roll and found the perfect pictures, adding them to your post. Under them you wrote, 'Bestest birthday to my partner in crime!!! 🩷 I love you and can't wait to celebrate your special day with you soon xx'. You made sure to tag Lando and pressed post.

The two of you had known each for what felt like forever. Growing up next to each, you spend most of your childhood playing at your house or his parents cabin during your shared family trips.

Throughout the years you knew each other, everything always stayed the same between the two of you. Your relationship never changed or shifted. You stayed friends no matter what and whatever either of you went through in life, you knew you could trust the other with it.

It was always nice to know you had someone standing in your corner.

—

When Lando became more well known in the media, people obviously started to question your relationship. Or more so if you really were just friends. You were known for your online banter, posting pictures of each other and just the kind of all around 'act' you two had. And sure, it could sometimes seem like there was something more going on but it was never the case. Making it easy for the two of you to just brush off those kind of allegations.

But when Lando started seeing someone, a special someone, you couldn't help but feel just a little jealous. Not that you would ever admit it to him, you pushed those feelings away the best you could.

You were just friends after all, right? And nothing could ever come between you.

we were supposed to be just friends, you don't live in my part of town but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, depending on what kind of mood and situation-ship I'm in and what's in my system

It was Lando's birthday party. Everyone was invited.

You walked in to the bar and searched around the room for a familiar face. It was jam-packed but soon enough you spot the birthday boy himself.

Lando was leaning against the bar, waiting for a drink he had just ordered. A smile appeared on his face when he saw you and he waved for you to come over.

For a moment you could swear he was eyeing you in a way he hadn't before. The way someone might when they see someone they like. But you assumed it was nothing as you made your way over to him. He was dating someone else anyway so nothing could happen between the two of you even if you wanted to.

A part of you wondered where his new girlfriend was. You hadn't yet seen her anywhere although you had assumed she would have been all over Lando. Usually that was always the case and sometimes you even felt bad for Lando. The poor guy was trying to exist but his girlfriend was always there, lurking around some corner, not wasting any time to cling herself to Lando's side. However, not wanting your mood to affect your night, you pushed away the thought of his girlfriend.

Lando had taken it upon himself to order you a drink, knowing full well what you wanted. He pushed it towards you, sliding it on the countertop. He still had that stupid big but cute smile on his face. You pulled him in for a tight hug and congratulated him yet again on his birthday.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he held onto your body. You could have stayed like that all night but you pulled away soon enough. The smell of his cologne still lingering in the air around you.

You couldn't help yourself. You had to ask. "Where's your girlfriend?" The music was loud so you had to yell. And the smile on Lando's lips finally seemed to shy away a little.

"She had a work thing she couldn't miss," he said sheepisly as his gaze went around the room. As if looking for a way out of what could easily became a really awkward conversation. "Come on, let's go sit down. The rest of the grid is waiting for you." Lando took your hand and led you through the crowd of people.

In the back of your mind you kept feeling like Lando was rushing to keep the conversation away from his girlfriend and you couldn't help but wonder why it was so. You kept the thought to yourself however as you let Lando guide you to a more secluded section of the bar.

Everyone was so happy to see you. You squeezed yourself in between Lando and Charles on the small couch and set your drink on the table.

Tonight was going to be one special night, you thought to yourself as you looked around and relaxed. If only you'd know exactly how special this night was going to be...

-

You weren't sure how many drinks you had downed by the end of the night but it was enough to get you drunk. And when the night was nearing to its end, the only thing on your mind was fast food and a comfy bed to sleep in.

You had went around the party saying your goodbyes to everyone before you went to find Lando and tell him you were going to head home.

"I'm coming with you," was all he said. Before you could argue back, tell him that he should stay - it was birthday party after all - you found yourself outside waiting for your ride that Lando had arranged.

You slipped into the back of the taxi with Lando trailing in after you. He gave the driver the adress before closing the door and joining you in the backseat.

The ride back felt fast and suddenly you found yourself stumbling up the steps to your door. Lando held you tightly by the waist making sure you wouldn't fall over. A giggle left your lips as his hands were holding onto you, tickling you somehow.

"What's so funny," Lando asked. It was dark inside your apartment but you could make out Lando's features and saw a small smile on his confused looking face.

Another giggle came out. "You," you blurted just as you felt your legs about to give in. Lando caught you just in time, picking you up in his arms, whispering something about taking you straight to bed.

"We'll get that take out tomorrow morning," he told you, referring back to your cab drive where you had told him you wanted fries and a cheeseburger.

You tried to convince him that you weren't that tired yet. That you could handle some food before passing out but he didn't listen to you. Instead, Lando led you straight to bed.

Upstairs, Lando opened the door to your bedroom. He put you down gently on one side before moving the covers and telling you to roll over. You did as you were told and snuggled under the covers.

"Please stay with me," you whispered gently as Lando was about to leave the room to go sleep on your couch.

Your words made Lando froze for a moment, contemplating if it was a good idea. He had never told you but he had had feelings for you for a while but never acted on them, thinking you only saw him as a friend. Hope arose in his chest when he heard your words.

But things were different now. He was in a relationship and couldn't act on his feelings, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Stay," you said again, more pleading this time and Lando couldn't help himself. He climbed into bed with you and turned on his side so that the two of you were facing each other.

A smile was playing on your lips as you looked at Lando. He was smiling too.

You tried to control yourself but you leaned in a little closer, scooting over to him so that your lips were only inches away before you closed the gap and kissed him.

Both of you were taken aback by what just happened. You soon however relaxed into the feeling. Lando's hands moving over your body as the kiss grew more passionate with each passing second.

There was a nagging feeling in Lando's chest. He was going to regret this in the morning but he couldn't help himself. He had wanted you for so long as more than a friend.

It didn't take long before your clothes were falling on the floor. Lando climbed on top of you, holding his body up with his arms. The two of you stared at each other as if you were not sure what to do next, not knowing where this moment was going to lead to.

"Are you sure?" Your voice felt small around the tension in the room, both of you knowing full well what you were referring to.

"I'm sure," Lando whispered back as your lips crashed together. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently grabbed his hair, pulling, keeping him close to your face. It felt like no matter how close you were together, it still wasn't enough.

Lando pulled away from your kiss. A groan left your lips at the loss of contact. You were almost pouting, thinking this was it. That Lando had changed his mind, come to his senses and realised that what was going to happen wasn't right.

It didn't last long as you soon felt Lando make his way down, leaving wet kisses behind all over your body. He made his way in between your legs and placed a small kiss on your clit. This time it was a moan that escaped your lips. Your hips buckled upwards, showing Lando how eager you were.

There was a vibration, Lando was chuckling. "Let me take my time," he said as his fingers went up and down your wet pussy before pushing first one, then two, inside you. He was curling them as you felt them hit your g-spot. You were soon a moaning mess under his touch.

"Please- Lando, I want-" You couldn't finish your thought as you felt Lando's movements become faster and faster. He shushed you as he hoisted himself back up, his face inches away from yours.

"I want you too, so bad," he told you as you could feel his cock on your entrance. It didn't take long before he pushed it inside you.

Lando was moving his hips back and forth. The two of you moaning and groaning loudly. Everything felt so surreal and so good and you wondered why you hadn't confessed your feelings to Lando before.

It didn't take long for the two of you to finish nearly simultaneously, your orgasms leaving you both breathless. Lando collapsed next to you as you tried to catch your breath.

You turned your head so that you were looking at him. Lando was on his back, a small smile playing on his lips. You scooted closer to him, letting your head rest on his chest. Lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer. He placed a small kiss on the top of your head and soon the two of you were fast asleep.

friends breakup, friends get married, strangers get born, strangers get buried, trends change, rumors fly through new skies but I'm right where you left me

The morning after Lando's birthday party, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window as sun peeked through the closed curtains. There was a pounding in your head as memories from last night flooded your mind but you couldn't help but smile.

You rolled around in your bed, turning on your side so that you could face Lando who you'd remembered had fallen asleep in your bed after your shared night together. But to your surprise he wasn't there. The bed was empty apart from you and it suddenly felt cold.

You listened closely for a moment, thinking Lando must have gotten up and went to make you breakfast. Or maybe he, too, had a pounding headache and a horrible hangover and he had gone to rummage around your cabinets in the search of a cure.

Taking your phone from the bedside table and going over Instagram and other social media, you got up from the bed and made your way around the house. Lando was nowhere to be seen and you got a sort of nagging feeling. Or maybe it was more of sickness in the pit of your stomach. You weren't sure if it was the hangover or the guilt from your last night actions but you knew you had to rush to the bathroom before you threw up all over the floor.

-

Days passed and you hadn't heard from Lando. Each day, you tried to call him, leaving him multiple voicemails and texts but he didn't answer any of them. You felt angry. Betrayed. Lando knew what he was doing that night. He told you he was sure. He had said to you that this was what he wanted. And now what? Had he changed his mind and now wanted nothing to do with you? It felt unfair to you. Had you really lost your lifelong best friend over a stupid, drunken mistake?

If you had known that this was how it was going to be, you'd never gone to that stupid party. You would have stayed at home alone. At least then you would still have your best friend.

she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy, now I think I get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite

Instagram had become your worst nightmare. In fact, all of social media had become your worst nightmare. You had tried your best to stay away from it all but somehow you always found yourself on Lando's pages, trying to make out what he was doing and who he was with whenever he posted something.

And then one night just as you were about to put your phone away and stop your stalking you saw something you wished you could unsee.

A picture of Lando and his girlfriend was staring right at you. You couldn't look away so you stared at the picture for a godawful time, embarrassed at your own behaviour. Lando had taken his girlfriend to Paris and now you could see for yourself just how happy the two of them looked together, posing under the Eiffel Tower.

Thoughts were racing around your mind but one struck out more than the others. She doesn't look anything like me so why is he looking so happy? In fact, she looked exactly like all those girls you had spent the better half of your teenage years making fun of with Lando.

The feeling of betrayal came rushing back. Why did he get to be all happy and in love? He was the one who cheated. Why were you the one who was suffering from the consequences? It wasn't fair.

you say 'I don't understand' and I say I know you don't, we thought a cure would come through in time now I fear it won't

It had been a few weeks since you had last seen or spoken to Lando. To be fair, you had been busy with your own work and hadn't really even managed to make time for anything else. Still, knowing the possibility of running into him during the Silverstone GP was enough to make you feel sick.

Your absence at the races hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of grid. They had all already gotten used to your presence at almost every GP and now that you weren't there, it felt like something was missing.

So, one night as you had been at home, making yourself dinner after a long day at work, you were surprised to see Charles text you. He had started to worry about your absence and wanted to know if everything was alright and if you were going to make an appearance at the British race during the weekend.

Maybe Lando hasn't told anyone about your shared night together, you thought, maybe he regrets what happened.

The two of you ended up calling, finding it easier to speak over the phone rather than text, racking up an impressive few hour long phone call. Which, much to your dismay, had ended with you promising to go to Silverstone the following weekend. Charles, however in hopes of making the appearance easier for you, had promised that you could stay at the Ferrari Garage the whole time. Making it less likely for you to see or run into Lando, or his girlfriend for that matter.

And though the idea of going to Silverstone wasn't all that high on your list of things to look forward to, you still felt glad after talking to Charles. It felt good to know that there was someone willing to listen to you talk about your feelings regarding Lando. Charles seemed to understand and you were thankful for that.

You hated to admit it but it had started to feel like Lando wasn't really understanding where you were coming from. The ball had started rolling when you ended up sleeping together and it felt like Lando left you all alone in that situation.

There used to nothing that could come between the two of you. Now? Now it felt so tiring to try to make things right. Your feelings regarding everything were nothing but an imposition to Lando.

You had done all that you could. You tried to make amends, to talk to him about what had happened. But he wasn't fighting on the same side with you anymore - he was behind the enemy lines. And he was losing you.

and part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, i'd hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different, 'cause part of me wants you back but i know it won't work like that, huh?

It was a sunny day in Silverstone. You were walking around the paddock, making your way to the Ferrari garage where Charles was probably already waiting for you.

"Hey," a familiar voice said behind you. You froze in your tracks for a moment before turning around to see Lando. You didn't know what to say or how to react so you just stood there, dumbfouned.

"It's been a while, huh?" Lando tried his best to mask the guilt he was feeling with a small chuckle but wasn't sure he managed. He took a step closer to you as you took a step back at the same time. "Look, y/n, I'm really sorry-"

You cut him off before he could say anything more. "Don't apologize, Lando, please. It's been hard enough as it was. There is no need to make matters worse."

To be honest, you were surprised by your own words but they were all true. It had been hard knowing Lando was out there somewhere living his life without you. These last few weeks had felt like you were stuck, unable to move on. Maybe that's what it's like losing your bestfriend, you had thought.

"Make matters worse- Y/n, what are you on about?" Lando's words cut through like a knife, making it seem like this was all your fault. "I wanted to apologize for ignoring you but it seems like it's not me who should be apologizing right now."

Anger was boiling inside of you. You couldn't believe Lando's arrogance. And though, you didn't want to cause a scene, you couldn't just stand there in silence.

"I'm not sure what dreamland you're living in but if I remember correctly we both agreed to do what we did the night of your birthday party. So, you can't put the blame all on me." Silence. You thought about your words - the ones you had just said and the ones you were about to say. "I knew it was a mistake but I didn't wanna believe you would think that, too, cause I love you and I thought that maybe you'd feel the same way."

Lando looked unsure. Like he didn't exactly know what you meant. Of course he loved you too, you were his best friend and had been since the two of you were kids. That hadn't changed during recent time apart and Lando was certain it would never change.

But then it clicked and he suddenly understood it all too well. Guilt rushing to him as he realized his mistake. He had, more or less, accidentally led you on.

He never meant to hurt you but that night and morning after felt like a blur to him. He was afraid and just bolted before you woke up. Why he didn't answer all those times you tried to call and text, he couldn't provide an answer for. He felt bad and once enough time had passed, it was harder and harder to make things right.

"I didn't come here to ruin your day so I'll just get going," you had started to walk away now but still called out to him with your back turned to him, "have a great rest of your life, you dickhead."

Lando stayed still for a moment, processing your words. Did you really mean that? Did you really not want to see him anymore? Have anything do with him? Had he really lost his friend, his best friend, over something so stupid?

If only Lando could go back in time, he'd make things right.

and I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit whole, long story short it was the wrong time//pushed from the precipice, clung to the nearest cliff, long story short it was the wrong guy

The summer break had started. And after the mess at Silverstone, you and Charles had grown closer. Though, you had always been friends, now that Lando was out of the picture, Charles and you spent even more time together.

He had taken Lando's place in your life. The two of you going out to dinner, having movie nights and just all around spending time together.

At first it was all platonic. Neither of you really looking for anything more than just friends to share the ups and downs of life with. But something happened and you two started dating. Agreeing to take things slow in order to avoid a catastrophe.

It was strange for a while but it felt nice to have someone you share everything with now that Lando wasn't that person for you anymore. You started to feel happier each day and it was all because of Charles.

The thought of Lando still stung whenever it crossed your mind. It wasn't easy to leave him behind. You had grown so accustomed to him being there for you through thick and thin. And sometimes it felt almost like the ultimate betrayel, replacing him with Charles. But you made your peace with it just as Lando had made his when he chose to walk away that one morning.

so we could call it even, you could call me 'babe' for the weekend, 'tis the damn season, write this down

It felt like a bad dream when Charles told you. A couple of guys from the grid had made plans for a little get-together over the summer. And though usually you'd be excited to spend time with everyone, now you dreaded it.

"We don't have to go," Charles said reassuringly when he saw the look on your face. "Or I can go alone, whatever's fine with you." He was so sweet and kind and considerate, and you felt bad about not wanting to go.

The two of you had managed to keep your relationship sort of private so far but you had talked about the possibility of going more public. With only a few of your closest friends aware of your situation so far, you figured this was a great way to catch everyone up.

So, with slightly gritted teeth, you agreed to go with Charles to the get-together. Nothing bad could happen anyway, right? You were grown ups. You and Lando could handle being in the same room together. Besides, you had both moved on. Maybe this could be a good time to try to reconnect with a certain, and once very dear, old friend.

-

The night went on quite nicely. Everyone was so happy to be there, to see you. Everyone but Lando. The second you got there, you could see something was bothering him. You tried to ignore it, deciding it was for the best. You told yourself he could come talk to you if he wanted to.

You were outside the venue, looking out at the sea, admiring the view. You heard someone walk over and take a stand next to you. You didn't bother to look, you knew who it was.

"I'm happy for you," Lando said sheepishly.

"Are you?" You didn't mean for it sound so accusing and you hoped Lando didn't pick up on it. You didn't want to fight anymore. If anything, you wanted your friend back.

"Look, I'm trying my best here."

"I know. Me too. I'm sorry," you offered with a small smile.

Lando smiled back at you. The two of you exchanged apologizies, going back and forth with who to blame for your fall out. It came to an end when you finally agreed it was probably just as much both of your fault.

You felt happy for the first time in what felt like forever. Though you were happy with Charles, this was different. You felt like maybe you finally had your friend back.

"I broke up with her," Lando said after a moment of silence.

You walked closer to him, hesitating for a while before you pulled him in for a hug. He didn't have to say how he felt, you knew.

"Do you remember when we were like 5 or 6 and you tried to make me feel better after I found out that Brad from school didn't like me back? I was heartbroken."

Memories pulled you back. You came home from school, tears in your eyes as Lando trailed behind you. He was calling your name but you ignored him. So he ran after you, catching you just as you were about to walk inside.

"And I promised that when we grew up, I'd marry you and love you so much that you'd forget about stupid Brad," he said finishing your trip down memory lane. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled away from the hug.

"Yeah," you started, "I guess if things had been different..."

Something stopped you from finishing your thought. But Lando knew what you meant without you even saying it. There was a sting in his chest. He had almost lost you and he didn't like the feeling. He didn't want to risk doing something that would end with you walking away from his life completely. Even though deep down he had started to feel like being friends wasn't enough anymore.

Or maybe it never had been.

"There you are," Charles called out to you. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

You took a step back from Lando, startled at the sight of Charles. You had almost forgotten about him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," you hurried, "I just needed to get some air."

Lando was hovering by your side as Charles' gaze flicked between the two of you. He had a knowing smile on his face. He was happy to see you two getting along. It had pained Charles to hear you talk about Lando. Charles knew how close you were and he hated seeing you and Lando in pain.

It was awkward for a moment. None of you saying or doing anything until Lando broke the silence.

"I should get going," he offered you a small smile and patted Charles on the shoulder as he walked past him, leaving you and Charles alone.

Charles walked over to you and you extended your arms to pull him in for a hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. The two of you exchanged a few words about the night before you walked back inside.

do you remember, happy together, I do, don't you? // thought you'd hate me but instead you called and said I miss you, I caught it

You had left Monaco to visit your parents back at home in London before you, too, had to get back to work.

You didn't know it but Lando was in London as well. He had a good relationship with your parents, having spent most of his childhood with them almost as much as his own parents. So, one night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock.

"I'll get it," you called out to your parents as you made your way to the front door.

Lando stood there with a smile on his face. "Hi," was all he said as he couldn't help but burst into a laugh as he saw your confused look.

"What- What are you doing here?" You turned to look behind you before you took a step forward, closing the front door quietly. You were happy to see Lando though you certainly weren't expecting him to show up unannounced.

He gave you a shrug, "I heard you were here and I wanted to see you before the break ended."

Lando could see you weren't exactly happy with his explanation but he didn't care. He didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to tell you how he felt about you. About everything. This was his grand romantic gesture.

-

The two of you ended up sitting on your parent's front porch for hours. Talking about everything that had happened over the summer, the conversation at first being very casual.

"Look, y/n, I-" Lando started but couldn't find the words. He took a deep breath, hoping to find courage with the inhale. "Okay, here goes-

After what happened that one night, I was a mess. I didn't know what was right so I just ignored you. And then I saw you with Charles and you seemed so happy and then we talked and I-

I love you, y/n, and not just a friend. And I know you're with Charles and I don't wanna come between you but I just can't not tell you how I feel. I already messed up once by not telling you so I just can't not say this right now."

Silence filled the air. You kept your eyes fixated on Lando but didn't say anything. You barely dared to breathe, afraid it might cause an explosion.

After what felt like an eternity for Lando, you got up from your spot. A fear crept down Lando's spine. This was it, he thought, now he lost you for good.

"I should head to bed, I have to get up early tomorrow," was all you could say. Thoughts spinning in your head, you were sure you wouldn't be able to get any sleep but you were certain you couldn't sit here any longer.

Lando got up as well and just stood there in silence as he watched you make your way inside.

"Goodnight, Lando."

With that, the door closed right in front of him and he could feel his life shattering into a million little pieces.

and i guess we fell apart in the usual way and the story's got dust on every page but sometimes i wonder how you think about it now and i see your face in every crowd

The sun was setting over the horizon. It was warm and the sky was painted in a beautiful color. It was a perfect ending for a perfect day.

You had your arm wrapped around Charles' as your head rested on his shoulder. The two of you walking down the streets of Monaco after having a nice dinner at a nearby restaurant.

You were happy but there was an unexplainable sense sneaking in slowly. It felt like a fire that was burning you inside out that started after you and Lando saw each during the grid get-together. And it kept getting worse and worse, your secret rendezvous in London not helping.

Charles came to a sudden stop. He had his gaze fixated on you, a look of concern plastered across his face. You thought maybe he had said something but when you asked, he just stood there quietly now holding both of your hands in his.

"Y/n, I've really enjoyed this time we've spent together," Charles started and you knew where this was going.

"I really care about you and like you, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't change a thing that has happened. But I can see how Lando looks at you and how you look at him."

Charles let go of your hands and there was an empty feeling left. You tried to say something but Charles pulled in for a hug.

"I don't wanna stand in between you and Lando, y/n. And I'm not angry or sad. I want what's best for you."

You understood where this was coming from. And surprisingly, you didn't feel sad, either. Your time with Charles had just ran its course. There was no bad blood between the two of you. Surely, you could stay friends after all this.

The two of you pulled away from your hug. Charles had a small smile on his lips that you reciprocated. Everything was okay.

-

The rest of your evening was spent walking around the streets aimlessly. Neither of you wanting to let go of these final moments together as something more than just friends but less than lovers before you ultimately had to.

small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight, the light reflects the chain on your neck, he says look up and your shoulders brush, no proof, one touch but you felt enough // you are in love, true love

The rain was pouring down with force and you were soaking wet. There was a tenseness in you as you stood outside Lando's apartment shivering, wondering if you should knock.

The door in front of you opened suddenly and you stood face to face with Lando. This time, the surprise was evident on his face as a small smile crept on yours.

"Hi," you said carefully, as if inspecting the situation.

It was getting cold in your drenched clothes and you were starting to shiver. Lando noticed that and rushed to pull you inside. He didn't want you to catch a cold, though he still didn't have any idea as to why were standing outside his apartment in the first place.

"Come on," he said, not wanting to push things but instead allowing you to say whatever you wanted on your own terms whenever you were ready. "Let's get you some dry clothes."

You followed Lando through his home, taking in your surroundings as if it was your first time visiting. As if you hadn't once spent almost half of your time here, with or without Lando. It felt strange to be back but it also felt like coming home.

Lando rummaged through his closet. You were fidgeting with your hands, nerves building up with each second.

"Here," Lando threw you pieces of clothing, "try these."

You caught them and stared at the clothes in your hands.

"You can go change in the bathroom if-" Lando started but you cut him off.

"I love you," was all you said before taking a deep breath. "I love you and I don't mean that as just a friend. I've loved you for you so long now and I hope I'm not too late in telling you this."

Silence filled the space. There was a gap between you and Lando but it soon closed as Lando rushed over to you, pulling you in for a kiss. His hands cupped your face and you relaxed into the warm feeling.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that," he said as he pulled away, his hands still on your cheeks.

A wide smile spread on your lips as you looked in to Lando's eyes. It felt like a dream to be standing here, after all this time and all that hardship it took you to get to this point. But you were happy. You both were happy. And in love.

[lorebeth]

HSR Headcannons

Hiyaa these are quick notes I think that different Honkai Star Rail characters would do or behave like ALSO IF YOU THINK IT'S OOC THAT'S FINE SHSKAHF I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS SO MUCH ANYTHING THEY DO IS REAL TO ME ❤️

IF THERE ARE SPELLING MISTAKES HELP SORRY

Characters: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, March, Serval, Kafka

Blade:

-He holds your hand when you cross the road (it seems like something he would do just absentmindedly, if you bring it up he won't do it again).

-He likes to take you places you've never been to, as chaotic as his person is, I think he really likes the more calmer days and enjoys finding new places with you, albeit he's also looking to run away from the authorities at the same time...

-I am a firm believer that Blade watches all types of movies, even romcoms. You enter the living room and see him watching '10 things I hate about you' and he's genuinely into it thinking about how he relates to a character.

-He has matching phone accessories with you. Kafka makes fun of him whenever he comes to work with a bright coloured pompom hanging out of his pocket.

-He is quite chill when you bring him little trinkets, he might not know what you're supposed to be doing with such an oddly shaped item, he might even stare at you blankly, but he knows the object reminded you of him and that makes him happier than he'd like to admit.

Dan Heng:

-He likes to smell you (THAT SOUNDS SO CREEPY). He loves the smell of your shampoo and has decided to buy the same one as you, however he didn't like it because March caught a whiff and made fun of him for weeks with you in earshot.

-He likes when you doodle on his hand with a pen or a marker. He also let's you do his eyeliner because you recenctly only realised he had one eye done and the other not, seeing as you start to do this more often, he buys more eyeliner and different colours for you to experiment with. (Although you both agree he looks better in red.)

-ABSOLUTELY 100% LOVES YOUR MUSIC! At first he didn't because he thought it was weird, but you eventually start catching him humming your favourite songs and you start to slowly make him play lists and organise an entire library of his and your favourite music together.

-He has matching plushies with you, you guys switch them every night and act like divorced parents who have to switch kids every weekend.

Gepard:

-He eats all the food in the fridge and you see him with his mouth dirty and can't help get too mad at him when he says he hasn't been in the kitchen all day. Other than his crimson cheeks, messy mouth and embarrassed eyes, nothing tells you more of his crime than his horrible acting skills.

-When he goes out, he likes to bring you back something, honestly anything. He once brought back an entire couch because he heard you needed a new one that fitted the aesthetic of your living room.

-Think golden retriever, you shall receive golden retriever.

-He likes when you praise him, it gets him happy and excited, a little shy and he just acts like he has just received the best present in the world, however it backfires when he compliments you as well. Your face heats up and even if he can't tell, he knows from your expression and attitude he got to you more than you let him see.

March

-She’s 100% tried to steal your clothes and you catch her every single time.

-She is so bad at hiding the fact she steals your clothing that whenever you walk into your room, you INSTANTLY sense your favourite sweater was taken hostage.

-Obviously she loves you and gives you fashion advice, but only when she’s ready will she let you borrow her own clothes. For her, this is an extreme act of love and trust.

-She totally takes your phone and blows up your storage with 100+ pictures of her or you sleeping, your phone almost shut itself down on multiple occasions 😭.

-Likes to try bake you little sweets from different planets. Due to her past, she cannot remember where she is from, so her love language is giving you things from other planets or your home planet, especially through baked goods! She’s either a cooking pro or she burns down the entire Express. It’s a 50/50.

Serval

-Loves hearing you sing. You sound like Gepard? It’s okay! She has her best smile on to encourage her lover!

-She 1000% stole your musical instrument (if you play one) and tried learning it for you if you don’t have a guitar.

-Not everything with her is musical, but she finds it does help when she’s cooking, cleaning, working in her shop, she even has a playlist that has your name on it and is full of songs that remind her of you.

-She shows you baby pictures of Gepard and Lynx. You’ve never ONCE seen her though. Kinda sketchy. Just ask Gepard and suddenly you have millions of cute chubby little Serval’s everywhere!

-That one fangirl who waits for Serval or tries to catch a glimpse? Not anymore! All the windows are now only see through on the inside and Serval has taken extra measures to keep her and your life private from her groupie. Will tell the girl to knock it off if you’re extremely uncomfortable.

Kafka

-She has the passwords to every account you’ve ever made on any platform. She doesn’t go through any of them but she likes that you share that with her, she in turn lets you go through her email. That’s all she has. 🙁

-She caught you wearing her uniform once and just stayed at the door watching you say her signature catch phrases. 11/10 embarrassing, 100/10 her thinking it was cute as hell.

-She doesn’t really have time for dates or anything of the such, but whenever you really need her, desperately, she’s there instantly. Sometimes you use your trump card when there’s a creepy bug and she catches it ONLY TO THROW THAT MF IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION.

-Has a pet snake. I genuinely am a firm believer she has a pet snake that she named in your honour. If you like snakes or not, you will have to feed it when she’s gone. 🙁

[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch. 6

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - past Shuri/Female!reader

Warnings: Slow burn - lightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - unrequited love - gay panic - fools in love - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: New chapter and yes! This time around things start changing, and Wanda and R are experimenting some emotions that may changed their lives forever, so obviously they do the most mature thing they can do...they denied them.

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging the story guys! Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 6

Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt

In the blink of an eye your relationship with your neighbour changed.

None of you were too sure as to how it happened, or when exactly it happened. But after that fateful day, in which you had played the part of a hero, you and Wanda engaged in a game of playful and deep conversations over the chat in your phones. For more than two weeks, you would seek your mobile while your heart skipped a beat, your lips curling into a strange smile that was not missed by those around you.

The changes had been so slow, and so deeply engraved in the idea of a new friendship that you and Wanda missed the signals.

The questions about the twins well-being turned into questions about preferences in music and movies, it became conversation about current events or what you usually do in your free time. At some point, even the friendly banter you two shared in the chat made you think of a juvenile adventure, but the thought was soon dismissed by your rational side telling you that friendships were supposed to be like this. A friendly chat, and a bickering friendship whenever you saw her right outside her home with the twins.

Whatever game you had entered into, for America and even Carol it was pretty obvious something had changed, and while Carol was trying to figure a way to reach out to you and not lose you; America had seen in your eyes, in your behaviour, in your phone who was behind the sudden changed. But whenever she tried to delve into the subject your quick dismissal and tangled explanations told your sister you were not ready to face reality. Much like Wanda, whenever America was to ask about the growing friendship between the both of you.

Of course, that didn’t mean you were not allowed to make questions or seek the answers eating out at you. So, when America couldn’t answer your questions about Wanda’s relationship status, or where was the husband and the father of her children, you went after the next best source of information you had.

Natasha Romanoff sat right in front of you, with her power suit on and a playful smile on her lips. The restaurant was packed, and the muffled conversation around you two was enough to bring relief to your mind that no one would be able to snoop into the conversation you would hold with the other woman. Natasha leaned in, her chin resting on the back of her hand, while her eyes gleamed with a knowing glint you had always hated on her.

“Now, this is quite surprising.” Natasha Romanoff leaned back on her chair; she tilted her head with her full lips drawing a tantalising smile you had come to know too well. “You either want to reignite a flame, or you are looking for something, Y/N.”

“Can I invite one of my oldest friends to lunch?” You retorted sounding slightly offended, Natasha snort signalling with her hand to the waitress.

“You hadn’t invited me to dinner since you broke up with Shuri.” Natasha had always been straight forward, you could always count on her to be direct and honest with you, and her brutality had saved you any trouble to not face the truths right in front of your face.

“So, what is going on?”

You shifted on the chair, the waitress taken the order from Natasha and then from you, he smiled bowing his head while giving Natasha a quick glance before walking away. The older woman tilted her head, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand while her eyes twinkled mischievously at you.

“Is it your new girlfriend or…”

“Oh, god, does everyone know about Carol?” You inquired frowning deeply. “She is not my girlfriend…”

“Someone should tell her that.” Natasha rolled her eyes leaning back. “So, what is it?”

“Wanda.”

Now this got Natasha’s full attention.

The older woman leaned forward again, her single eyebrow lifting slightly while her eyes twinkled with interested. Her lips quirked upwards, and you could tell she was trying to figure out what were your real intentions behind such a question. You pressed your lips together, tapping the table with your fingers drifting your eyes around the restaurant before settling them on Natasha.

“So, Wanda…”

“Now, stop right there, Tasha! I know that tone of voice and it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not?” Natasha chuckled, tilting her head. “I heard you went nurse on her and her kid a couple of weeks ago, and that you even brought Christine to her home to make sure the kid was fine.”

You rolled your eyes, of course Natasha would know about that. The freaking woman had a special ability to know everything that happened around her friends and the people she loved.

“Come on, Y/N, what is it you want to know?” Natasha finally inquired; you pursed your lips leaning forward lowering your voice as you did so.

“Her husband, the father of her children…what happened to him?” You didn’t beat around the bush with the question, Natasha scowled at you waiting until the food was served and the waitress had gone to speak again.

“Why are you asking this?” She finally asked piercing you with a deep stare, you shifted on your chair scrunching up your nose contemplating the real reasons for your question.

The truth was you hadn’t stopped thinking about Wanda since the day of the school event. The fact you got to see the glimpse of her family and a part of her you didn’t know was just a plus of what you were looking for. Why did you want to know that? Why was so important to know if the father of the twins would be back? If he was in the picture?

The answer to that question scared you.

More than you care to admit.

And thus, you decided to change the answer in your mind, it was not so much about Wanda, but the twins and what little you had discovered about them (and her). With that in mind, asking about the father, about Wanda’s status as single or with someone would be easier to handle.

The lies we told ourselves could go beyond the unimaginable, and you had learnt to lie to yourself a long time ago.

“I just…well, I was wondering if he is in the picture, why wasn’t he with her and the twins. I mean…”

“He is alive.” Natasha cut off your babbling, her posture never changed but her eyes were now analysing your every move, your every word.

“Oh, that…that’s good.” You replied frowning at your food, you pressed your lips tight while lowering your head.

“You don’t sound so happy about it.” Natasha replied after a few bites, you lifted your head offering a bittersweet smile.

“Oh, I’m just…I mean, are they divorced or…?” You trailed off clenching your eyes closed, Natasha snorted taking a sip from her glass before speaking.

“It’s not my story to tell, Y/N.” She straightened up and made sure you could not take your eyes away from her. “But I do want to make something very clear, Y/N, I won’t let you play with her the way you’re playing Danvers. Wanda doesn’t need, nor does she deserve to be played at by anyone. Not that Carol does, but with Wanda it is a little different.”

“I’m not playing with Carol or Wanda, that’s not what I was asking you this.”

Natasha shrugged gauging your reaction as she kept talking. 

"Either way, Wanda is not gay, not even bi so…"

You placed a single hand on your face, hiding the growing blush on your cheeks. Natasha stretched her hand to grab her glass of water, her deep blue eyes seizing you up quite surprised by your sudden interest in Wanda. 

"I'm not interested in her, not in that way." You stated with a straight face, trying to convince Natasha as much as yourself of the veracity of your words. 

Natasha hummed, not really believing your words but not ready to start a discussion that you were obviously not ready to have. 

"Then, what is your interest in her? Last time I checked you two didn't get along because you decided to be a bitch on your first encounter." 

Natasha chuckled just as you rolled your eyes making a face. 

"I wasn't being a bitch, she was being overly dramatic, that's all." You straightened up, lowering your gaze as you continued. "Anyway. I just noticed something the day I helped her with Tommy, I was just curious, that's all."

Natasha wanted to add something else, she could only imagine what you had discover to trigger the curiosity. Afterall, Natasha had accessed to the medical file of the twins and Wanda, she knew exactly what you had found that day. But for the moment, she would not dig further into your real intentions, and would play along with you while also finding her own way to know exactly what your intentions with Wanda were.

"Well, as I said, that's not my story to tell, perhaps you could take a chance of this newfound interest and ask her yourself." 

You were very tempted to press the topic, and for a brief moment Natasha thought you would do it; but soon your interest drifted and the conversation changed into one of pure business and plans for the future. The questions you were left with, however, never left your mind, and you were already trying to devise a way to get the answers you were looking for.

Natasha or her part smiled to herself, you had played right into her hands and she had a plan for you already in mind.

‘This ought to be fun…’

_________________________________________________________

Winter had come early that year.

The rainy season had given way to low temperatures, piercing winds, and white, teasing snowflakes that would come from time to time to tease the inhabitants of the city Wanda now called her home. She glanced out of the window, with her eyes following the twirls of wind and snow dancing in the streets while the school offered a protection and warmth she was grateful for. She placed her chin on her hand, her green eyes softening slightly as she remembered the recent conversation she had been holding over the phone with Y/N.

Her lips curled slightly, she knew you were stubborn, but she never thought you were such a petulant child. The discussion had been quite foolish, and you had stood your ground quite firmly by sending her papers written by people Wanda could hardly recognize. It amused her to not end knowing how easily you get riled up whenever you knew you were in the right but someone tried to tell you were wrong. It had been quite some time since she found herself so relaxed by talking to someone that wasn't her therapist or Natasha, and the fact she didn't need to discuss her life and the problem plaguing her mind was a refreshing situation. It made her eager to continue talking to you, to allow the small glimpses of friendship to sprout so easily. 

Wanda quite enjoyed contradicting you and whether she knew it or not, she was starting to look forward to those hidden conversations on her mobile. 

“You seemed quite content over there, Wanda, good day?” 

Wanda jerked away from her position, turning to see Natasha Romanoff standing by her desk, her head tilted to the side and her blue eyes twinkling with amusement just as Wanda felt her cheeks warm up at the sudden intrusion.

“I…yeah, you could say that.” Wanda straightened up trying to organise the paperwork laying on her desk. “Is there something you need from me, Natasha?”

“My, Wanda, can't a friend come over and see how you are doing?” Natasha sat down on the desk, crossing her legs while leaning forward, her eyes following Wanda’s gaze to the world outside just before she settled on the mobile the young woman had on her desk.

“Of course, you can.” Wanda replied, lifting her head to stare at the older woman. “I'm sorry, it’s just I thought perhaps you need something or…or something had happened?”

The unasked question hung heavily above their heads; Natasha shook her head glancing at the mobile on the desk vibrating under the pressure of a series of messages. The young woman went to grab her phone, but Natasha was faster than her, her red, puffy lips curling into a smile. Wanda felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and her heart hammering against her chest as if she had been discovered doing a naughty deed. 

"Y/N? I thought you hate her." The statement rolled out with a hint of amusement and inquiry; Wanda looked down with her hands wriggling around a piece of paper. 

"Hate is a strong emotion…"

"You said, and I quote, I hate that bitch." Natasha chuckled watching the mortified stare crossing Wanda's face at hearing her own words thrown back at her. 

"I was mad that day." She defended herself by stretching her hand to the other woman wiggling her fingers in request of her phone. "I don't hate her, but I do think she is annoying and sometimes stubborn and quite frankly she is a spoiled brat."

"Ah, so you like her." Natasha was enjoying this conversation far too much.

The older woman raised a single eyebrow, her eyes studying every reaction that Wanda was experimenting. From the way those green eyes open wide, to the pinkish colour of her cheeks and the sudden trembling on her lower lip. Natasha was not a fool and she suspected something was happening, but she didn't dare yet to put a label on the sudden relationship between Wanda and Y/N, it would be far too early and far too foolish to jump to any conclusions. What Natasha did know was that this newfound friendship was helping Wanda with her mood, so the older woman considered that a winning situation. 

"I wouldn't say I like her, more like I tolerate her." Wanda replied with a small voice. "She did help me with Tommy, and she is America's sister so…"

"Of course, it's not a matter of liking her but of putting up with her."

"Exactly." Natasha rolled her eyes but decided to not press the situation any further. 

Wanda grabbed her phone, her eyes falling on the screen and her fingers trembling lightly just before she put the gadget away. 

"Anyway, I came here because I talked to Y/N today." This seemed to grab Wanda's attention, Natasha narrowed her eyes before continuing. "Every year, just before Winter break we have a celebration for the seniors and really for the whole school. Y/N was supposed to be the organiser this year, and as our newest addition I also proposed you to be part of the committee."

"Me?" Wanda felt dizzy at the proposal, this could mean a lot of things for her. 

She knew such an important position would require time and dedication, but most importantly she would be working right alongside you and that was something that was making her feel slightly anxious. 

"Yes, it has been a couple of months since you got here, Wanda." Natasha softened her expression standing by the window before turning to Wanda. "You have done amazing work with the students; they love you and it is about time for you to make a name for yourself. Get notice and get credit for the amazing ideas I know you have, let everyone else know you and… Who knows? Perhaps, this is what you need to start healing."

Wanda nodded tentatively, she knew the responsibility she was being given was Natasha's way to empower her and get her more familiar with the world she had been introduced to. 

"What about the press…" Wanda started and she was quite shocked to see the smirk on Natasha's face. 

"Now, that's where Y/N comes in, she also needs this, and the press would be busier with her in the spotlight." Natasha winked at Wanda. "I've already spoken with Tony about this, your name would be hidden by everyone but the board, and you can work marvels without fearing your name would go out there and put yourself and the twins in danger."

Wanda knew she was given too much, but the old fears came rushing in. She remembered the old wounds on Tommy's back, the overprotective nature of Billy, her own weakness and incapability to form new bonds, to allow others closer. Wanda crumbled under her fear of Vision finding her again, and this time around, of Vision keeping his promise of destroying her and the twins. 

"Natasha…" The name left Wanda's lips with a quiver.

The older woman stepped closer, wrapping a comforting hand around Wanda. 

"Don't worry, Wands, Vision would never find you out in here, I made sure of it."

"I just… I know it's s a great opportunity, but he threatened me��� Billy and Tommy… And he has money, and…"

"It's gonna be fine, Wanda. I know it is."

Thunder rumbled right outside the classroom, the silver light of thunder ignited the darkened hall and America jumped slightly with her eyes wide to the door of her classroom. Soon the two women engaged in a conversation America was not ready to hear, a conversation that would be far too intrusive to listen to. 

Stepping back, she turned around and left the hall before she could be discovered. The information she had just gathered out of chance store in her memory while her hands moved swiftly to write to her friends and call on an emergency meeting. 

Now, more than ever, they needed the help of Kate's company to know the truth hidden behind Wanda Maximoff’s sudden appearance in the Academy. 

_____________________________________________________________

The supermarket was full. 

Everyone seemed to have chosen that day to fill up the pantries back home to prepare for the long weekend. Wanda winced when Tommy and Billy ran to the section with sweets and packaged goods she knew she would fight over with the twins. However, watching them ran free, with smiles on their faces and not a single sign of sickness or fear in their eyes was enough for her to allow them to pick something up to enjoy after dinner. 

Wanda glanced at her phone, the notes app had the list of what she would need to make sure to spend some time with the twins and, perhaps, to repay the help you and America extended to her weeks ago. This last thought made her hesitate, she chewed her lower lip, with a crease of her brows at the sudden summersault her stomach experiment at the thought of having you back in her home. 

“Let me guess, you are ready to fight over a box of Mac & Cheese and a yoghurt?” Your teasing tone was not missed by the young woman that turned around wide-eyed and flustered.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, putting her phone away rather quickly, you tilted your head with an amused smirk playing on your lips.

“Wanda!” You exclaimed back, chuckling, walking closer to her, your eyes danced up and down her body before focusing on the cart she had behind her. “Ah, you already have the Mac & Cheese…but you are missing this!”

You put from the supermarket basket a six pack of your favourite yoghurt; the same one you had taken from her on your first encounter. You winked playfully, chuckling when Wanda merely rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue while shaking her head.

“Right, are you gonna take it from me like last time or…”

You opened your eyes in mock shock, leaning over and placing the pack on Wanda’s cart. Wanda shivered lightly, your close proximity letting her catch the smell of your perfume, and the warmth emanating from your body.

“Never, please allow me.” You straightened up but never bothered to put some distance between the both of you, you were enjoying the nervousness coming off from Wanda and a part of you was tingling all over to perhaps do something rather dangerous and daring.

“I…I...Uh…” Wanda was trying to say something but your eyes on her, and the teasing smirk on your lips made her lose her words.

“I’m pretty sure there is an intelligent thought behind those beautiful stutters, though I think you’re a lot smarter when you write to me than when you talk to me…”

“Oh, shut up!” She replied slapping you playfully on your arm, your laugh made her blush and stepped back to put a safe distance between you and herself. “I was just…I was just thinking that I never thought I would find you here.”

You nodded, turning to the sound of laughter coming from down the closest aisle, in there you could see the twins that had found America strolling around. You smiled at the sight, soon finding the figure of Wanda all the more comforting at the foolish scene the five of you played inside your head.

“I came here for some groceries, and something for tonight's dinner.”

Before Wanda could ask about the dinner, she heard her name and yours being called from two different parts of the supermarket. Wanda turned to see her children running towards her with America smiling sheepishly, you turned to the other end to see Carol Danvers coming with a satisfied expression on her face and the can of goods she had been looking for. Your stomach dropped, remembering the reason you ended up in the supermarket after work, and a sudden wave of guiltiness came over you when you realised the blond-haired woman had been really excited when you invited her over for dinner that day. You dared a side-glance to Wanda that was now engaged in a discussion with the twins, and a pang of affection mixed up with your guilt for the whole situation.

Something absurd, if you think about it, since you shouldn’t be feeling guilty about anything at all. You were not doing anything wrong, and whatever mixed up emotions you were experimenting, it was the mere confusion that Wanda had come to create in your mind by being herself.

“Hey, I found it!” Carol exclaimed happily, stretching her hand with a proud stance, she drifted her attention from you to the redhead talking with two children and her eyes opened in surprise, though another emotion flash in her eyes. “Oh, Wanda!”

Wanda turned around and she too was highly surprised at the sight of Carol in there, her eyes went from Carol to yours then back to Carol. You could see the realisation flashing in her green eyes, and your mind pressed over for you to speak and clarify the situation.

“Eh, Carol, right? Hi.”

“Yes, the very same.” The woman stretched out her hand, and Wanda soon found herself under the firm grasp of the woman. “How have you been? I never got a chance to ask Y/N how you were feeling after that night, I hope everything went well.”

Wanda shifted uncomfortably, shooting you a quick glance before returning her attention to Carol.

“It did, I was just…not feeling myself that day.” She retorted softly.

“Mom! Can we?” Billy stepped forward putting the pudding box up, pouting and putting on his best puppy stare to make Wanda give in.

Carol stepped aside, she was surprised by the sight of the kid but pleasantly so as she stood beside you, her hand sneaking in to entangle around yours. You tensed, grabbing the offering hand without actually looking at the blond standing beside you, Tommy stepped forward moving past his begging brother to look up at you with a shy smile.

“Hi, Y/N.” You knelt down letting go of Carol, while smiling back at the boy.

“Hey, Tommy, how are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” You ruffled the kids' hair winking at him.

“Nah, it was all on you, kiddo, you were a real superhero.”

Tommy smiled please, and you stood up to see Wanda about ready to burst under the begging of Billy and the sudden tension in the group.

“He is quite persistent, eh?” Carol commented amusedly, Wanda winced tilting her head.

“You have no idea.” She replied while lifting a single hand, Billy clamped his lips close while Tommy grabbed his brother dragging him away.

“Mommy said no more desert, Billy put it back.”

“It’s my fault, Professor Maximoff, I told them I could also make pudding for them next time I babysit.” 

Wanda shook her head, her lips curling tiredly, “that’s okay.”

“I didn’t know you were so good with children.” Carol stated in a faint voice to your side, you turned to her eyebrows raised at her sudden change of tone and the close proximity with you.

“Why not?”

Carol made a face, shrugging, “you never seem the type and…I just thought it was cute.”

“Humph, I’m not cute.” You replied slightly offended, the woman rolled her eyes before leaning in to steal a kiss from you.

The kiss was supposed to last a few seconds, or so you thought.

But soon it became evident that Carol’s intentions were totally different. She put a possessive hand around your waist, pressing her body closer to yours while her lips danced sensually against yours, her tongue teasing around before she pulled away rather breathless and flustered. Whatever her intentions, Carol smirked satisfied, her eyes found those of Wanda that was shifting uncomfortably on her spot.

“Right, I think we better keep moving, there is going to be rain and…and the twins may catch something.” Wanda started talking fast, moving back while placing the pudding box on her cart. “It was nice seeing you, Carol, Y/N, America. I may need you tomorrow but I will text you the details…bye!”

You had never seen the young woman move as fast as she did at that moment, the twins waved good-bye and soon they were following their mom towards the other end of the supermarket. America stood there with a frown, her eyes found yours and the both of you had the same questioning glance on your faces. Carol on the other hand was tensed, her eyes flashing something cold with hints of sadness in them.

“Shall we go?” She asked, you turned to her frowning before nodding.

“Yeah, are you okay?” You stepped forward but Carol stepped back.

“Yes, just tired and a little hungry.”

“Okay, yes, let’s pick something else up and we go home.” You mumbled slightly confused, your heart hammering against your chest and your mind a twister of emotions, memories, and thoughts involving the woman you hadn’t stopped thinking about ever since you met her.

______________________________________________________________

Dinner had been a quiet event. 

Something had been bothering you all afternoon and part of the night, and Carol had long lost the battle to try and regain your attention. She and America spoke most of the night, with Carol speaking about her adventures and the long process that led her to be the most decorated Captain in the air force and the newest commander of the base. 

America had enjoyed the conversation, she asked questions about life in the force and the possibilities that could be opened for her. But as the conversation took a more professional note, you couldn't help but drift away into your own thoughts. 

By the time you and Carol were left alone, you were even more confused than ever, and this only made the breach between you and Carol that much bigger, deeper and almost impossible to cross. 

"You had been awfully quiet all night, is something the matter?" Carol had not missed your mood, and a part of her continued holding onto the hope that your relationship would turn out to be something meaningful. 

"I'm just tired, and thoughtful." You replied offering a small smile. "Today was a long day at the office, and I followed your advice so tomorrow I will have lunch with Hope."

"You do?" This time around Carol was completely surprised, her face relaxed at the news and she took this chance to come closer to you. 

"Yes, I think it is time to just rekindle that friendship and…" You shrugged, leaning back to face Carol. "I did miss her, you know?" 

Carol knew. 

The last year had been a complete roller-coaster for you, Carol had been there the moment you broke up with Shuri and your inner circle took sides without knowing the full context of the fight. Carol had found out by chance, but Hope had heard both sides of the story and had stepped aside by trying to balance her friendship with Shuri and with you. The breakup, as well as the weight of the daily business and raising a teenager had left you in an emotional state you wished to never experiment again. It was in the midst of such disarray that Carol and you made a deal. 

Carol never imagined she would want more, and you never entertained the idea of falling in love again. And while you had been firmed in your resolution, Carol had been breaking the silent deal she had made the first night she spent in your bed. 

Now, after almost six months of the affair, Carol realiser she had been a fool. 

"I was offered a new position." Carol stated all of a sudden, she placed a hand on your shoulder and her fingers started a game you knew well enough. 

"A position? Where?" You shivered as her fingertips brushed against your skin, her lips wrapped around your earlobe. 

"They are renewing the security plans in the base of Eastern Europe." She whispered, her hand moving down your open shirt, your hands already positioned on her lower back pressing her closer to you. "They want me to lead the new training drills, and be in charge of the whole operation." 

The blond-haired woman trembled with her legs spread and her clothed crotch pressed tentatively on your thigh. You lifted your leg applying more pressure, a soft moan leaving Carol's lips. 

"What are you trying to say, Carol?" You asked softly, this time around you leaned in kissing the woman on her lips tearing out of her a needy moan just as you pressed her closer to you. 

"Come with me." Carol finally stated, breathing hard, her hips rolling to get more friction. 

She fluttered her eyes open, and as soon as she did she knew the answer to her question. Her face fell for a moment but a spark of determination ignited inside her chest. She offered a mischievous smile and without any warning she knelt down, her trembling hands playing with the zipper and the buttons of your pants. 

"Let's just talk about this later." She finally mumbled, lowering your pants and underwear and digging right in your already wet pussy. 

Your thoughts leaving your mind as soon as her tongue came into contact with your pussy. Your hand pressing her closer never once did you notice the tears in her eyes. 

______________________________________________________________

Hope had chosen a nice restaurant right outside her office. The place was small, cosy and filled with sweet aromas of homemade food. The music was a remembrance of your teen years, and you couldn't feel more relaxed under such an atmosphere. 

"So, you like the place I chose?" Hope asked amusedly, you snorted tilting your head with a shrug. 

"It is nice." You played the nonchalant card, but Hope was not having any of it. 

"I knew you would like it." Hope took a sip from her glass glancing around the place before letting her eyes rest on you. "The food in here is amazing, and actually this is a good place to think and have private conversations."

"Private, eh?" 

Hope shrugged leaning back on her chair, "it's been a while and in my office we have the risk of one of my patients coming over without knocking, like Wanda did last time." 

At the mention of the young woman you felt your body tense, your eyes diverted their attention from Hope to some unknown spot in the restaurant. Hope narrowed her eyes with some interest, filing this reaction away to bring it over later. 

"Right, like last time…" You grabbed a napkin facing Hope with some trepidation. "How is she?" 

"Who? Wanda?" Hope opened her eyes until the face you made told her the other woman was not the one you were talking about. "Ah, she is doing fine. After her brother's funeral she and her mom took some time off work and now they are back. It's just that she is not overly fond of coming back to the States."

"I see, that's good."

"And you? How are things with you, Y/N? What about America?" Hope was being honest in her questions, she had lost contact with you but she never stopped loving you like a sister. 

She listened attentively as you evaded the topic of your life and instead focused on America and the family business. The conversation about your sister made Hope smile, she knew you adore the kid and your life decisions had been made around her well-being but she also worried that after your break-up with Shuri America had become your only focus. 

"Right now she is just… Trying to decide what to do." You shrugged, shaking your head. "I just have a feeling that they would end up in the same University…breaking havoc as always."

Hope chuckled, America and her group of friends had been like that ever since they were little children. Everyone was expecting great things from them. 

"Okay, that was a long storytelling about America, her friends, her future, school, and about your business and Tony, and Strange, and…" 

You rolled your eyes, making a face you busy yourself with your fork. Hope tilted her head softening her stare. 

"And you, Y/N? How are you, really? What about Carol? I heard you and her were a thing… But…" 

Hope could see the topic become personal for you, your whole stance changed and soon your eyes dropped. The woman waited for a moment, her eyes never leaving your form and you knew she was just analysing your every movement and your every word.

"We were just fucking." You let out a heavy sigh after that, Hope winced at your crudeness but was really not surprised about it. 

"I met her the other day, you know?" Hope pursed her lips before continuing. "Are you sure it is nothing else…?" 

"I know she wants more." You replied. "But I made it clear to her, I cannot…" 

"You can't or you don't want to? There is a difference in there, Y/N." 

You fixed your position on the chair, grabbing the glass of water before speaking. 

"I don't want to, Carol is amazing. She really is, but my affection for her doesn't go deeper than friendship." You took a long sip from your water, Hope offered a sympathetic smile. "I know she wants more, but I can't give her that. I don't want to hurt her."

"Well, it is inevitable, she has always had a crush on you and you just gave her something she wanted."

This revelation came as a surprise for you, Hope could tell you didn't know that detail about Carol. 

"She never said anything."

"You are hard to crack sometimes, Y/N, and you were so absorbed in your pursuit of Shuri and all that you missed her feelings." Hope shrugged. "But now it's your time to make it right, if there is nothing else you can offer than a night of sex then you better end that right now."

You nodded furrowing your brows for a brief moment. Hope narrowed her eyes at you, and the next question almost made you choke on your own spit. 

"And what's your relationship with Wanda Maximoff?"

"What?!" You exclaimed, changing to different shades of red. "There is no relationship whatsoever! What made you say that?" 

Hope raised a single eyebrow, waving her hand away pointing at you. 

"That reaction." 

"This is nothing but me thinking how ridiculous you are being, Hope." You huffed indignantly, finishing your glass of water while looking away. "That woman is insufferable, and she has two kids, and really I find her quite dull and… And…"

"Insufferable?" Hope chimed in when you seemed lost at words. 

"Exactly!" Hope rolled her eyes and you clicked your tongue aggravated by the suggestion. But there was something else, you grabbed your phone putting it away protectively while you made sure to never look Hope right in the eye. 

She was very tempted to press the conversation, but she had a better idea. 

"Right, sorry I ever asked." She stood up putting some bills on the table. "Walk me to the office, I have an appointment in five minutes."

You let out a sigh of relief, standing up you left a generous tip before going out of the restaurant. The day was cold and dark, but people were enjoying the Saturday afternoon with long walks and shopping for the holidays. Hope started talking about her own family, and how she had spent her last eight months away. 

You listened carefully, always enjoying the presence of one of your oldest friends in ways you never thought possible. For a moment, you entertained the idea of telling Hope about your recent confusion, but voicing your thoughts would give a form to something you didn't want to face at the moment. Besides, it was nothing! You were confused because you had found in Wanda a kind heart and two amazing children, it was nothing more than sympathy. 

The theory you had played inside your head crumbled the moment you found yourself staring into a pair of deep, green eyes. 

"Wanda! I'm sorry to take this long, this slowpoke was just entertaining me after lunch." Hope let go of your arm coming towards Wanda and giving her a warm hug.

You stood there mouth hanging open as Wanda turned to Hope. 

"Don't worry, I just got here as well so I didn't have to wait…" She trailed off, hesitant at first before turning to you. "Hello, Y/N, I hope you are doing fine."

Her tone was quite different, detached and almost cold. You furrowed your brows but soon shook away your head and offered a half smile. 

"Yep, more than okay, Princess." Wanda tensed at the nickname, and Hope was having the time of her life observing the interaction. "What about you? Did you have a good night?" 

"Not as good as yours, I bet." She replied icily, you opened your eyes with your lips parting with  an answer at the ready but before you could say anything Wanda offered a strained smile to Hope. "If you don't mind, Hope, I think I will go inside. I need the bathroom. Y/N have a nice afternoon, give my best to Carol."

And with that she left in a hurry. You stood there slightly hurt by this reaction, but you concealed your expression as soon as you felt Hope's knowing stare on you. 

"Right, she is crazy, I tell you no wonder she is seeing you."

Before you could go, the voice of your best friend stopped you. 

"Don't judge her too harshly, Y/N, you don't know the whole story." Hope approached you giving you a long hug. "Stop running, Y/N, and start living, you fool. We will talk about that next time. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't." 

Hope lifted her face to the building, a spark of curiosity awakening in her. This session promised to be an interesting one. 

______________________________________________________________

Wanda hadn't stopped pacing around the room. 

She had served tea twice, and her purse was left forgotten on the sofa while she babbled about the progress she had made, how empowered she felt at the moment. She talked about her job, about her family and her brother, she told Hope about the photo album and about her children. And just like that, her conversation went down a path she had tried to divert for more than thirty minutes. 

"I have never been so scared before." Wanda dropped her weight on the chair, her hand resting on her forehead, covering the rampaging emotions going through her at the memory. 

"I can't imagine what that might have felt for you, Wanda. Your children are your main motivator, and finding that one of them is suffering…"

"I thought I was failing; you know?" Wanda finally revealed. "I couldn't stop his voice from drilling mocking words inside my head. It was as if his predictions became real."

Hope scrunched up her nose, she let out a huff that Wanda answered with a crooked smile. 

"Habits are difficult to break, his voice may be there as a memory but not as a compass to your actions." Hope softened her gaze. "But how did you overcome such hardship? Is Tommy doing better now?" 

This time around Wanda leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and the wrinkles around her eyes and the bridge of her nose softened considerably. Hope observed with a twinge of interest the reaction, she didn't miss the body language and much less in the words Wanda was using to talk about what happened next. 

"He is so much better now, I actually received help from my neighbour." 

"Y/N?" Hope straightened up, her eyes going wide at this revelation. 

"She and America, they came in and…" Wanda trailed off looking away from the knowing glance of her therapist. "Can you believe they are sisters? God, America is like the sweetest, smartest and kindest person I have ever known and Y/N…"

"What is it? Hope finally asked after a minute or so, Wanda shifted, crossing her arms and clicking her tongue. 

"She is just… Infuriating!"

"I agreed though I believe you and I have different reasons for thinking that." Hope stated amused, Wanda winced leaning forward again. 

"I know she is your friend, and she did help me with Tommy, but she is just…"

Wanda trailed off again, Hope waited for a moment and soon Wanda let out a heavy sigh. 

"She is confusing." Wanda finally said, frowning at her own words. "And this thing she has with Carol, showing off as if…ugh, can you believe she was showing off last night? It's just…" 

Wanda trailed off leaning back, "it's confusing."

Hope lifted a single eyebrow, her lips twitching fighting over her obvious reaction to such a declaration. 

"Whatever you mean by that, Wanda? I mean, what does Carol and Y/N, for that matter, have anything to do with your confusion?" 

Wanda pressed her lips together, her heart hammering against her chest and her cheeks tainted in pink. The young woman opened and closed her mouth before dropping her defences. 

" I didn't know she… I mean that Y/N was into… I mean… " Wanda stuttered trying to find the right words, Hope waited for a moment before talking. 

"Into women?" 

"Yes!" Wanda exclaimed wincing, she had heard something of course, but to actually see you with the blond-haired woman, shared such a deep kiss, it had ignited inside Wanda an emotion that made her heart twisted with a painful thud. 

Seeing you today, after what Wanda had seen, what she had imagined you and Carol were doing back in your home, it was almost ridiculously unbearable for her. Wanda wanted to come onto you and slapped you, but as soon as that thought sneaked in, another stranger, yet familiar emotion came to the surface. 

Sadness. 

"She is confusing, sometimes.". Wanda hesitated before continuing. "Sometimes she is… She is this nice person and some others she…" 

"She is confusing." Hope chimed in, Wanda nodded and the look of pure panic and puzzlement in her green eyes told Hope this was a topic she could not press any further without discussing other important points about Wanda. 

"Wanda, before Vision, was there anybody else you were interested in?" 

The question caught Wanda by surprise, she straightened up, tilting her head while frowning a little. The young woman was trying to remember her childhood and her teen years, flashes of people she had been interested in came rushing into her mind but most of them had been singers or actresses that called her attention. 

Then, she stopped her trail of thoughts. Actresses. No, actors. There was this one actress that she had always thought was beautiful but that was admiration, not attraction. 

Then, she tried to go back to the mirage of faces until she found herself thinking of you. Her heart leaped, and Wanda shook her head rapidly. 

"I…I don't remember." She stuttered, glancing at her feet. 

"You don't remember or you don't want to say?" Hope pressed but Wanda didn't lift her face, and Hope knew the other woman would say nothing else about the topic. 

However, Hope had sowed the seed of doubt and that would be enough to press the matter on another session. For now, she was starting to see a pattern in Y/N and Wanda, a dangerous game that if executed incorrectly could leave the women involved more miserable than they already were. 

"I think this is all for today." Hope stated and she could tell Wanda was relieved by this. 

"Okay, yes, today was…" Wanda gestured with her hands but said nothing else.

"It was." Hope smiled and Wanda hated the fact her therapist knew more than she cares to admit. 

There was a long silence in between, Hope could tell Wanda was in the middle of an internal battle but the contents of this battle were the myriad of emotions Wanda had allowed herself for the very first time. Independence.

Wanda was finally freed to make decisions on her own, to take the path she thought better for herself and her children. Wanda was finally freed to be herself, and that was something the young woman was discovering little by little with the ups and downs that this discovery might mean.

“I never thought this was going to be this…difficult.” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling pursing her lips.

“You are discovering yourself, Wanda, there are many aspects of your personality and even of your life that you hid in order to survive and to comply with what was expected of you.” Hope offered a comforting smile, her words washing over Wanda just as reality hit the redhead. “It can be difficult for as long as you fight it over, and this may happen because you are still fighting with the ghosts of the past.”

Wanda shifted on the chair, she never turned to Hope but the therapist didn’t need to see the expression on Wanda’s face to know she was struggling with the words and her thoughts at the moment.

“So, I could be…this could be…This is me?”

Hope tilted her head analysing the statement. 

Who Wanda could be was more complicated than Wanda really knew, but certainly the little pieces that she had been revealing in the sessions and the little pieces she had discovered on her own were just a reflection of the amazing person that was hidden behind the masquerade of the well-behaved, quiet and mellow housewife that Vision had built from an early age. 

“Isn’t it fantastic to start discovering what you are capable of? What can you really do? Who can you love?”

Wanda clenched her eyes close, feeling the tears rolling down her face. The last question made her heart jump and her stomach shrank with the sheer emotion of the real meaning behind such a question. Who could Wanda love…Who could be that one person she could love that would never make her feel the way she felt before.

The room drowned in a tense silence, without meaning to, and actually without thinking clearly about anything else Wanda lowered her teary gaze to the mobile she had dropped on the table. The screen popped up with a myriad of messages that had a single name on it.

A detail that had not escaped Hope at all, and that Wanda had evaded the moment the conversation turned to personal.

But now…Y/N’s name was a constant reminder that Wanda had been experimenting emotions she never thought possible.

And fear was still holding her back, and she was still denying herself the possibility of digging deeper into what she was feeling for the woman she had come across by chance. Wanda grabbed the phone in her hands, and with a tear rolling down, she put it away trying to hide the part of herself that Y/N had brought to the surface without meaning to.

_____________________________________________________________

Next chapter: Wanda's secret is out. Everyone has a plan, America is a fool and Kate decides that she can't wait for her any longer. There is a new player, and Wanda and Reader fell right into the schemes everyone prepared for them.

[crow-stars]

❝CHILDHOOD RULES BROKEN❞

❦summary; childish fun doesn't always mean you have to be a child to enjoy it. ♪the characters in this story; gn!reader, riddle rosehearts ✎word count; 961 ❀what do the ghosts say?; platonic, just good old fluff times, reader and riddle jump on the bed together, riddle getting to act like a kid :) ☛the author's notes; nothing to note... ☪look at the catalogue?

“Why would you jump on a bed? Doesn’t that ruin the mattress?” 

“Well, yeah, but if in moderation, it can be fun!” Riddle shakes his head with a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. The thought of participating in something that only young children do in his adolescence seems ridiculous, yet you’re so insistent on trying to get him to join you. 

The two of you were sitting on Riddle’s bed. You were supposed to be studying, yet it somehow divulged into you telling stories about your childhood with Riddle listening. One of the fondest memories you had was getting to jump around on the bed, giggling and laughing before your parents told you to stop and go to bed. That was how the conversation led to this, debating about jumping on the bed. Though, it was more you trying to convince Riddle that it was fun and Riddle pointing out why it wasn’t fun, both in short term and long term. 

“Why don’t you try it? If you don’t like it, then you can say that jumping on a bed sucks.” 

A scoff came from Riddle as he shook his head in the way he did whenever he was unamused, or at least when he tried to act amused. He lowers the textbook he was holding, already a third of the way done with the book. It was dense enough to make anyone’s head spin. 

“I’m not going to jump on the bed. I already know the risks and factors when it comes to jumping on the bed.” He states it in such a matter of fact way, it’s almost comical. You shifted to sit on your knees, leaning forward as he gave Riddle a more intense stare. 

“But you haven’t actually jumped on a bed yourself! How do you know all the risks?” 

“My mother.” 

The stare you gave Riddle could only be described as a deadpan and even Riddle knew that his first response was the one that would come under scrutiny. After a long, frankly unnecessary silence in Riddle’s opinion, you let out a sigh and stood up on the bed, grabbing Riddle’s hands and attempting to tug him onto his feet. Riddle resisted, obviously, he still had his shoes on compared to you, who had taken your shoes off 

“Wha─ What do you think you’re doing?” The smile you had was wide, the giddy type of smile that told Riddle you had something up your sleeve. You bounced slightly on the bed, causing the papers and books that were resting on the mattress to jump in response. 

“C’mon! Take off your shoes!” 

Riddle gives you an incredulous look and you only nod encouragingly. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of Riddle’s head that tells him he’ll be in trouble for doing something like this. Yet with your hands tugging at him every few seconds and light bounces on the bed that gets him lightly bouncing along with you, Riddle ignores that nagging voice and takes off his shoes, which earns a loud “yay!” from you. He moves your two’s work from the bed, before he takes your hands into his. 

Thankfully, you help Riddle onto his feet on the bed, hand in hand with him. His legs noticeably shook, probably not used to standing on something he didn’t normally stand on but you kept a firm grip on him. There was a nervous, yet oddly excited smile on Riddle’s lips as you slowly began to guide him into bouncing. 

The two of you began with just slow bounces, feet never leaving the mattress as you did so. Riddle could feel his heart racing a bit, feeling anticipation and anxiety flow through his body. He felt awkward with just the little up and down bounces, but was thankful that it wasn’t too much at once. 

“A-Am I do it right?” Riddle lifted his head to look at you, earning a laugh from you. He looked like a puppy who was seeking approval, which was somewhat true. 

“You’re doing fine, Riddle. Don’t worry.” You lightly squeezed his hand before bouncing on the bed just a bit harder. Riddle was still on the slow, light bounces, so such a sudden change in the tempo leads to Riddle stumbling. He stutters and stumbles, gripping onto you tighter so as not to fall. It only makes you laugh as you keep with the new tempo, Riddle eventually catching onto it and beginning to jump up and down on the bed more properly. 

The nervous confusion eventually began to morph into something akin to newfound glee on Riddle’s face. He eventually let go of your hands to jump on his own accord. To see the stern and strict Riddle giggling and smiling like a child was a rare sight for anyone’s eyes and a true treat to see. And he managed to have so much energy too, gaining the courage to let himself fall backwards and let his body bounce up and down on the mattress. 

The feeling of jumping up and down on the bed felt absolutely exhilarating for Riddle, such a simple thing producing so much joy for the housewarden. He kept going well past his legs hurting, jumping up and down on his bed while laughing and smiling. You eventually had to stop, but Riddle kept going for a good few minutes after you before collapsing on the bed with a tired huff. You grin as you look over at the tired Riddle looking back at you. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of the two of you, giggles being faintly heard from outside of Riddle’s door, yet neither of you could care, not when both of you were smiling so widely.

[pygmi-cygni]

writing tips - dialogue and character continuity

this is something that's a bit more nuanced when writing characters, but it makes a huge difference. basically, character continuity is keeping the character's actions, dialogue, and inner thoughts consistent with their profile.

'well, that's just writing a character, pygmi, what else would you do?'

well, sometimes it's not that easy.

Biggest point i'm gonna make (if you get nothing else from this, at least get this): keep your feelings out of it. your opinions as an author don't have anything to do with the story, because you aren't in the story.

When it's obvious that the author is inserting their feelings and perspective into the narrative, it gets really muddy. lemme show you an example.

for the sake of this post, this story is 'narrated'/told from the perspective of a six year old named Lacy.

"Lacy watched her father tinker with the car, wondering what he was doing. He'd taken a socket wrench to the engine and was removing all of the nuts and bolts, lining them up in his toolbox. She thought that was strange, because weren't the parts supposed to stay in the car?"

this is an inconsistent piece. it's 3rd person, but it is told from her perspective and using her thoughts.

Problem: A six year old (or at least none of the ones I've met) aren't familiar with the insides of a car. I don't think Lacy would be very good at describing in detail what her dad was doing, and definitely couldn't identify the tools he was using.

Yes, this paragraph is okay, but it creates a level of distance between the character (Lacy) and the story. We feel removed from her head because it doesn't feel like she's describing it.

Let's try this:

"Lacy watched her father tinker on the car, wondering what he was doing. He'd rustled around his toolbox before pulling out a long, metal stick with a loop. Whistling, he started pulling grimy silver trinkets out of the open car. They plinked gently on the cement floor. She thought it sounded like bells in the church."

Little kids don't have the vocabulary and sentence structure to describe things like the first paragraph (obviously, some are more advanced, but for explanation's sake). However, they are great at describing things with comparisons and colors/shapes/sizes. With Lacy, I picked a more general vocabulary that focused on what it looked like, not what it was.

I'm not here to tell you how to write small children, but you need to understand how to tailor the perspective to the character. A little kid won't be thinking with complete, highly educated theoretical thinking. An old wizard won't be cracking jokes like a teenager. To create juxtaposition, you could work with that, but it needs to make sense. If you just don't know what to do, that's different.

this also applies to interactions with other characters. You can have a hotshot girl with perfect body and sexy hair, but if it's told from her brother's perspective, he's not gonna describe her that way. That's not the nature of their relationship.

Understand the context and background from which the characters come from before using their narrative.

let me know if you want me to elaborate, but that's a summary

xox love you