#it’s obvious she sparks so bright

[ellisbian]

looking at this before-the-party moment makes me feel so in peace with all the lights and snow it’s so magical, maybe it’s also because ellie herself wants to take a peaceful moment trying to not think for a while about her and joel’s fight they had after she discovered the truth

it’s also magical how it matches with ellie at the party surrounded by the lights again, and when we see her face it’s also enlightened with a small smile seeing dina, that girl who asked her to go to the party and that now it’s making her feeling anxiety too

[entitled-fangirl]

Manhood.

Virgin!Cregan Stark x virgin!wife!reader

Summary: the two newlyweds lose their virginity together.

Warnings: sex, it's just all sex, foreplay, undressing, kissing, breast play, p in v, fingering kinda, all of the things you could've guessed were in here. :) and Cregan being a VIRGIN

A/n: phew. Based on an ask.

Part 2

Masterlist

............................................

"What are you saying exactly?" She asked him. 

"I… I have not laid with a woman before," Cregan admitted.

She froze. The Lord of Winterfell. The Wolf of the North. Cregan was a virgin?

He was always so confident. Now, she could see a light tremor in his hands. 

"Never?"

He shook his head, "It was not for a lack of girls throwing themselves at me. I just… never… wished to partake in such things until… the time was right."

She nodded. "And… is the time right?"

He grinned and cupped her face, "You're now my wife." He kisses her lightly, "What better time than now?"

She smiled and reached back, unlacing the outer layer of her wedding dress, letting the fabric fall to expose more of herself to him.

Was Cregan Stark blushing?

His eyes trailed anywhere but her frame, the tremor continuing.

"Touch me, Cregan."

He let out a heated groan, an obvious tent forming in his pants. 

But when he did not move, she took it upon herself to help him. She grabbed his hand, bringing it up to her body, moving his hand to trail up her stomach to rest at the base of her breasts. 

"Why are you so nervous?" She asked softly.

He let out a shaky breath, "My whole life, I've waited for this. I've imagined this moment a million times, imagining pleasuring my wife. But now that I'm here… I'm at a loss."

She grabbed his other hand and placed it on her hip. "Tell me."

He almost visibly gulped. "W…Wha-"

"Tell me all of the things you imagined doing to me."

Gods, if he wasn't hard yet, he definitely was then. "It's… it's hardly something a lady sho-"

"Cregan, tell me."

She reached up, untying his cloak and letting it fall to the ground behind him.

"Well… I imagined I'd start by undressing you…"

His fingers became brave and he reached back and began to untie the rest of her dress.

"Then?" She tilted her head up to look at him. 

"I'd kiss every inch I undressed."

Her breath hitched when another layer of her dress fell, leaving her in her shift.

Cregan grinned and leaned down, brushing his nose against her neck as he began to trail kisses down it.

She melted against him, enjoying the feel of his hands around her waist. "What after?" She breathed.

"Patience, my wife."

The way the control flitted back and forth between them made her head spin with lust. Both so eager to take the reins, but just as eager to let the other. 

He was quick to pull his tunic over his head and lead her backward to lay on the furs of his bed.

Looking at her and seeing no distress, he gathered her shift and pulled it off of her, leaving her bare.

His eyes wandered over her frame, a low breath leaving his lungs involuntarily. 

What a beautiful girl.

She leaned up on her elbows with bright eyes, watching him intently.

He smiled and began to crawl over her, capturing her lips with his.

A spark lit between the two, each letting the flames rise as their bodies brushed against one another.

He pulled away just enough to speak, "Has anyone touched you, my girl?" He whispered softly.

She let out a moan at the soft tone in his voice. "Only… only I have, Cregan."

He nodded, connecting their lips again. 

The makeout continued for quite some time, their tongues clashing as they both became nervous about moving past this point.

She reached to the side to take one of Cregan's hands. The tremor was still there.

She pulled it down her body, moving his fingers to brush over her clit lightly. She jerked at the feeling. 

He took the initiative, taking time to tease her as his fingers brushed over the nerves. 

Eventually, he settled on gently rubbing his thumb over the area.

She disconnected her lips from his as her mouth gaped open and a sinful moan left her throat. 

Cregan felt himself smile a bit, proud that his nervous movements had made such an impression on her.

He continued for a while, experimenting to see what made her hips jerk up or what make her scratch his back. Each noise from her throat was like music to his ears. 

A shaky hand pushed him away, making his brows furrow. "Love, is something wrong-"

She pushed on his shoulder, and he sat up in confusion.

But the confusion was quickly erased when she sat up with him and clambered into his lap. Her nose pushed his head up as her lips moved to his neck. "I want to finish together." One of her hands moved to his small clothes. "Take it off," she panted out.

Cregan let out a shaky gasp as she began to suck on a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know was there. His hips jerked up, making her hiss lightly when his clothed erection brushed against her slit.

"Easy, Cregan."

His voice was a breathy pant. "S…sorry my love. I am… trying to-" 

A whine left his throat as she did it again, and he could feel her pause her actions when a smile came over her face. "Do not tease me…"

He lifted his hips lightly with one hand and the other pulled off his small clothes, quickly discarding it to the side.

She leaned back, admiring the naked form of her husband. He felt himself flush as her eyes moved up and down his frame without shame. 

They simply stared at one another, unsure of what to do next.

"What did you imagine next?" She asked.

He finally gained some confidence back, "I never finished the first thing."

With her still in his lap, Cregan pulled her close to him, his lips moving to her chest. 

She let out a hum.

With his hands supporting her, he leaned her back and his lips moved to her breast.

Her hands gripped his hair as he began to suck on her nipple, pushing him closer to her as her back arched up.

"Feels good?" He asked.

The vibration of his voice made a whine come from her. He took that as answer enough.

He continued, giving small kitten licks and teasing her. 

He lowered her to the furs completely now, resuming his position over her. "Think you're ready?"

She nodded, pulling his face to hers, kissing him deeply.

He moved his hips forward, his tip barely entering her. 

"You're sure?" He asked one last time.

She nodded again. 

With that, Cregan pushed through, carefully watching her reactions. The room filled with the two's moans.

He paused as he felt the resistance of her maidenhood.

"Cregan, just… just fuck me already."

He pushed, moving his lips on hers when a pained cry came through. 

Once seated completely, he pulled his head back again. "Breathe, sweet girl. I'll stay like this as long as you need me to."

She laid there, her eyes shut tightly as the pain started to subside just a bit. Her body adjusted and she panted, "move. Cregan, move, please."

He nodded, beginning to move his hips at a steady pace. 

His hands were shaking again. 

The two let out desperate whines and groans at the new feeling between them. 

"I..." He groaned. "I imagined you like this... taking me... so pretty.."

Already lust-driven, they didn't last long. 

When he decided to repeat his past actions against her clit, her hands pulled his hair, "Cregan… Cregan… ugh… there's… there's a feeling…"

He nodded, forcing his hips to continue. "Give into it."

"Witho… without you?"

He groaned, only nodding again when he didn't trust his voice.

She came soon after, her nails leaving a path down Cregan's back that she'd no doubt feel guilty for later.

With her walls clamping down on him, he hissed and was at his high not long after. The strong man shook with a whine as he did so. He had highs, yes. But none were like this. 

The two only panted as they looked at one another in sex-filled bliss. 

He pulled out from her, watching his seed begin to leak out. 

Confused, he took two fingers and gently pushed the substance back into her. She jerked her hips back, flinching at the sensitive feeling.

"Sorry. Don't want to waste any of it," a genuine grin spread across his face.

She chuckled, coming across unsteady.

He laid himself down next to her, bringing her to him as he did.

The two laid in silence as Cregan's hands brushed through her hair. 

"Guess we should get you cleaned up," Cregan finally said. 

Soft snores answered him back. 

He untangled himself from her, laying her down onto the bed. 

He returned with a wet cloth, gentle not to disturb her or dishonor her in sleep. 

When she was deemed clean enough for him, he threw the rag aside and joined her in bed, letting sleep welcome him as well.

…

When she was too sore to leave the bed the next few days, Cregan was attentive to her needs. The two bathed, ate, and chatted the days away. 

The North rejoiced when her moon blood was late after that.

...........................................

Part 2

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: improper use of plumping lipgloss, mentions of alcohol, oral sex, it's steddie endgame i promise | crossposted on twitter

it’s no secret, steve likes making out. likes isn’t a strong enough word. he loves making out. loves grabbing hold of someone and pulling them close, loves laying over them on a couch, on a bed, hips just barely moving as he takes them apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

that doesn’t change once he’s had a few drinks either, body tingling with tequila or vodka or something equally strong that has his inhibitions thrown to the wind. he’s always able to find someone willing to dance with him, hips pressed together and arms wrapped around shoulders.

it’s usually girls, pretty things with pretty hair that draw steve in like a punch drunk happy moth to an overzealous flame. they’ll turn their heads with a flirty shy smile and follow him out to the dance floor before pressing up tight against his front.

they’ll curl their fingers into his where they rest low on their hips and keep him close. they’ll drop their heads onto his shoulder and let their breath ghost over the side of his face until he gets the all too obvious hint.

steve likes making out on a dance floor. no, not likes.

loves.

that is until his lips are covered in sticky, sweet lip gloss and he’s pulling away because his tongue is on fire, tingling from something other than alcohol and the thrill of being in a pretty girl’s mouth.

“what is that?” he yells into her ear over the bumping bass.

“sorry,” the girl says sheepishly, “it’s my lipgloss. it plumps my lips.”

she goes back in to kiss steve once more and he isn’t exactly going to deny her. her lips are pretty just like her, plump and shiny and all too inviting, so he kisses her back. the gloss is spicy on the cracks of his lips, on the tip of his tongue when he he pulls her lip in between his teeth. it’s addictive in a way. he wonders if his own lips will plump up from the contact alone.

later, when they say their drawn out goodbyes outside of the club, he’ll ask to borrow the lip gloss since his night isn’t over yet. she’ll pull it out with a grin and apply it so sweetly to her own lips and then to his. her touch is gentle and precise before she puts the tube back in her purse and then connects their lips for a final time.

steve likes to make out. no, not likes.

loves.

so he goes to a bar around the corner, robin hot on his coat tails with some blonde she picked up attached to her side, and he’ll order a vodka soda that he can sip through a straw so he doesn’t destroy his pretty glossed lips. the bar is grungy, but steve almost prefers that, able to blend into smoky shadows and dark corners while he watches the crowd.

while he watches someone in the crowd watch him back.

he has wild curly hair and handcuffs on his belt and steve swears he’s staring at his lips and the way the light is bouncing off of the gloss, but he isn’t too sure. not until there’s wild curly hair and handcuffs on a belt standing right in front of him.

steve has a different confidence with guys. maybe it’s because he has to read them a little differently. maybe its because he gets read by them a little differently, too. but flirting is flirting all the same and steve finds himself biting at his lip and licking away some of the spicy lip gloss with a wince as it burns the inside of his mouth.

curly hair handcuff guy is cuter once they start talking for a while, all animated and vibrant, a bright shiny beacon in a dingy bar. he finds out his name is eddie with a lingering handshake that means something, fingers trailing and tingling like they had a spice to them, too.

they don’t dance, but they do end up out back, sharing a cigarette as drunk people stumble around them. it’s easy enough for eddie to light, flame from the lighter sparking in his big, brown eyes.

“so steve,” he says, flicker of some other kind of spark in his eye, “where to?”

and steve knows how to do this part. he grabs the cigarette out of eddie’s mouth and puffs on it himself, blowing the smoke over his head. “is it too forward to say i don’t think i can last much longer without getting my mouth on you?”

eddie grins and lets his eyes flit down. “no. is it too forward for me to say that i’d let you do anything to me, mouth or otherwise?”

he takes the cigarette back and steve can see his trace left behind on the filter, can see when the hint of gloss hits eddie’s lips if the wrinkle of his eyebrows is anything to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just winks over at steve. he doesn’t say anything, just drags him into a taxi. he doesn’t say anything, just wraps a hand high over steve’s thigh, just pushes steve up against his apartment wall, just fumbles over handcuffs and pushes down his jeans.

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

if he loves making out, then he really fucking craves giving head. he feels like a cartoon animal with hearts popping out of his head as he pulls eddie’s cock out of his briefs. he licks his lips like he’s starving and regrets it when the gloss singes his tongue.

steve looks up from his knees and swipes a finger over his lips, holding it up high for eddie to see. “taste it,” he whispers.

eddie’s eyes widen, but he obediently bends his neck, tongue lolling out so he can lap at steve’s finger. “your lip gloss is spicy,” eddie says flatly as he recoils.

steve nods. “and it’s going on your cock unless you say otherwise.”

which is how steve finds himself turning eddie into a writhing mess. his hands hold onto the backs of eddie’s shaking knees as he works over his cock. his hair stings as eddie tugs on the strands. his eyes water as he sucks him in deeper and deeper into his throat, spicy lipgloss tingly on his tongue and cheeks.

“you are a fucking wonder,” eddie whines, hips humping as he grinds himself further into steve’s mouth. “just fucking made for this, huh?”

steve pulls off and spits on his cock to jack his hand over it as he pulls the head to his lips. he rubs the sensitive tip over his lips just to watch eddie twitch.

“you have no idea.”

he blows a line of cool air over the gloss that’s left there and drinks in the way eddie’s eyes roll back in his head before swallowing him back down, reveling in the spice that hits the back of his throat as he does so.

when eddie comes, he pulls steve off so he can paint his pretty, puffy, plump lips with it, dragging his cock over them to make a mess. it’s not a surprise when steve licks it off, spicy and salty and a special kind of sweet that he thinks is all eddie. he leans up to place a kiss into the thatch of hair over eddie’s cock, smearing behind come and shiny lip gloss.

“you gonna wait for me to come in my pants or can i go fuck you?”

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

and he loves giving eddie head. and he loves fucking eddie. and he loves waking up with a spicy, sticky residue on the side of his cheek after falling asleep with his head on eddie’s chest.

and maybe, just maybe, he’ll love eddie someday, too.

[letorip]

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

===+++===

===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

[lis-likes-fics]

Dramatic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x adhd!bau!Reader Word Count: 2.9k words Warnings: Social anxiety, character with ADHD, crying, emotional hurt/comfort... A/N: I embarrassed myself a little bit and that day will haunt me forever. Enjoy!

Spencer slows as he comes up on your desk. He furrows his brows and looks around, noting your absence with a confused look on his face. Closing his book in his hand, he shifts it under his arm and turns to Emily opposite your empty seat.

Before he can even finish his inhale, she's already speaking. “Last time I saw her, she had to go print something out.”

“When was that?”

Emily looks away from the bright light of her screen in favor of checking her watch. “About fifteen minutes ago?” She shrugs, “I assume she got caught up with something.”

She spins around in her chair in a rather dramatic manner, turning to face JJ in the desk behind her. “You seen my desk buddy anywhere?”

“Printer.” She doesn't even look up.

“That's what I said.”

JJ hums a little. “She probably just got distracted.” She looks over her shoulder at Spencer for the first time, though not for long. “I'd check the printer.”

With a spark of genius, Emily's brows lift as she turns back to her screen. “If she's not there, she could be with Garcia.”

JJ just points her finger over at Emily and hums, still lounging back in her chair as her focus glares at whatever she's filling out at her computer.

“Thanks, guys.” Spencer sets his book down on your desk, turning on his heel to find the printing room where you have supposedly been hanging out for the past fifteen minutes.

He doesn't know what would keep you that long. You're not social enough to have gotten caught up talking, and your distractions are so easy as to keep you from returning to your desk (especially not when Emily is there to keep you company).

Plus, you hate the printing room. The printers are practically always running, and there's this weird clacking noise from one of the machines that unnerves you every time you have the misfortune of having to listen to it.

As he expects, you're not there. There's one guy standing in front of one of the printers, beating his hand on the side to get it to work. Other than that, however, you're nowhere to be found and Spencer is starting to worry.

Realistically, he knows that he shouldn't. You're in a building surrounded by FBI agents, and you're smart enough to know exactly how to tip someone off if you're in trouble. You're so smart, you'd realize there was danger long before it actually hit (because you pay too much attention to little details and sometimes forget about the more obvious things in front of you). He's lucky enough that any UnSub striking the FBI is likely too intelligent not to be meticulous.

But anyway, it doesn't matter because you're not in danger, and maybe you're just with Penelope or using the bathroom or (not in the break room, he already checked) or even–

Shoot.

“Hi.”

Penelope’s door was open, so he let himself in with a gentle knock on the door. Derek is there. He's leaning against one of her desks as she works. They're talking about something Spencer suspects to be too suggestive for his interest.

“Oh!” Penelope turns around in her seat with so much enthusiasm. She almost seems amazed as she looks upon him. “Spencer Reid, coming to visit me. Hello! How are you, my little knick knack?”

Derek chuckles, gesturing for him to join the two with a charming smile.

“I'm good,” he says. He asks about you.

Penelope’s brows join together as she shakes her head. “Oh, I don't know,” she answers matter-of-factly. “I have not seen her. Why? Is she okay?” Her worry creates a crease at her brows that deepens with every second that her question is unanswered.

“You lost your girl, pretty boy?” Derek gently nudges Spencer's shoulder.

“Not lost, just…” he shrugs, “misplaced.”

He hums. “She hasn't come by, no. Last time I saw her was early in the break room with you.”

Spencer scratches the back of his neck. Sorting through his mind about all the places you could be. If you left the building, you would've told someone, so you're definitely still here. You don't have any meetings either, so he's genuinely confused as to where you could possibly be hiding.

“I was hoping I'd find her here.”

Penelope raises a suggestive hand. “Well, I can look on the cameras, if you want.” She wheels around in her chair. She's already tapping away on her keyboard with a loud clickity-clack. “I'm sure we can find her somewhere in here.”

“When did you last see her?” Derek asks.

“I saw her at her desk twenty one minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago, but Emily said she went to the printing room about fifteen minutes ago.”

Penelope mutters to herself as she types in her perimeters. “Okay. Printers, fifteen minutes. And…” She clicks her tongue. “There she is!”

Spencer feels a wave of relief at seeing you standing by one of the machines. You're popping your knuckles, staring dutifully at the printer like you're determined to grab them and go.

“Okay, waiting on papers. Let's fast forward a bit, and then…” Penelope’s as fast as the cameras as she watches you leave the room with your stack clutched to your chest. Your gaze is following your feet, which are taking you down the halls and in the wrong direction of your desk.

When you turn into a room, all of them are a little confused. Derek most of all. “My office?” He turns to Spencer with a furrowed brow. “What's she doin’ in my office?”

“Cameras don't show her leaving. She should still be in there right now.” Penelope adjusts her glasses on her nose, turning back around.

“That’s odd,” he mumbles. “Thank you, Garcia.”

Spencer's already locked into his task when he turns around without another word. Derek calls him, interrupting his alertness.

“Whatever you do,” he tilts his head like he's warning him, his eyes narrowed playfully as he smirks, “keep it PG in my office, okay?”

Spencer almost blushes at the notion. Penelope smacks him square in his chest, looking up like he's scolding Derek for his behavior. But he only raises his hands high in surrender. “Hey! Mama, I'm just jokin’,” he laughs, his face split into one of his charming smiles. “I'm playin’!”

Spencer purses his lips in that dorky way that you always say you love. He excuses himself in favor of finding you. The path to Derek's office is an easy and familiar path. He ends up opening the door not long after.

He doesn't see you.

Spencer's eyes sweep the office once more and find Derek's chair further away from his desk than it's meant to be—that is, if he pushed it in properly to begin with.

With a gentle sigh, he takes slow, quiet steps to round the large desk. He kneels when he gets to the other side, feeling the worry dissolve and take another shape all within the same second.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is so soft, this quiet little whisper that doesn't stir you too much.

You have your arms wrapped around your knees, your face buried away within them. You don't move, and you don't seem to be crying, so at least that isn't an issue. Your voice is muffled by your arms.

“Hi.” You don't look up. “How’d you find me?” you mutter, still not moving from your position.

“Penelope.”

You sigh, finally lifting your head. “Penny.” He almost laughs at the way you say it, like you're accusing her of a crime.

“Can I join you?” he asks gently.

You nod without a word. Spencer moves to sit across from you. He's so long, it takes quite a bit of maneuvering to fit himself into the small space. He's slouched over like some real life origami. His legs have no choice but to reach all the way over into your space and box you in with him. You don't mind much.

He lets you both sit in silence for a while. You seem to really need it. He doesn't decide to speak until you finally look at his face, your eyes flitting across it like you're trying to find something.

“What's wrong?”

You shake your head, looking away again. It breaks his heart to watch the way you huddle into yourself. “It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” he protests kindly. He reaches a hand out to cradle the back of your leg. His hand is warm, it feels good even through the fabric of your slacks. “Not if it's making you feel like this.”

You don't respond. Spencer's mouth twitches to the side. He taps your leg lightly. “What happened?”

You sigh, taking a moment before you lift your head to see him again. There's a tiny crease in his brows. His eyes are narrowed just a bit. He's genuinely concerned, and it makes you feel bad because the reason you're upset is so…trivial.

“We deal with death every day, and most of the time, I come out of it okay,” you say under your breath, shaking your head at yourself, “but this is what gets me.”

“What's ‘this’?” he presses gently.

You lick your bottom lip and speak slowly. “I went to print some papers, and this lady walked up and waved at me, so I waved back at her and…”

He thinks he knows where this is going. “Yeah?”

There’s an element of self-depreciation when you respond, and your words from earlier echo sadly in his head at the thought that you might be hearing it, too—it’s stupid. “Well, it turns out, she’s not even waving at me. She’s waving to this other lady standing next to me.” You shake your head, looking down as if to remember something. “And she kinda, like…gave me this look.”

“Was it a mean one?” He hopes not. He loves you too much for someone to be giving you mean looks. He wants you to feel safe and happy, and you don’t.

You shake your head. “No, she looked…maybe a little confused or even, like…apologetic, but it was a look.” He watches you bury your head again, hiding away in your embarrassment. “I should not be hiding because of a look.”

Spencer sets a reassuring hand on your knee. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed about something like that.”

When you lift your head again, he can see tears you’d tried so hard to keep back shining in your eyes. His heartstrings tug behind his ribcage. He thinks you’re gonna kill him one day. “I know!” you sniffle, refusing to let any of your tears spill. “I know, but I do, and it’s ridiculous.”

“But…” he says, like he isn’t finished, “it’s also perfectly okay to be embarrassed about something like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and looking to the side again. “Please.” A tear spills over, and you catch it quickly. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard. He’s worried you’ll draw blood. “I overreact or underreact to literally everything. When are my feelings ever reasonable?”

He would scoot closer if his body structure allowed it, but, alas, he is too long. “All the time. They never stop being reasonable,” he reassures. He sighs gently, wanting so badly to make sure you know how much he adores you. “Can I hold your hand?”

You look back at him, swallowing thickly as you slowly raise your hand for him to take. It means a lot, actually, that he wants to hold your hand. Too many germs. Your chest feels warm with your adoration of him. He gives you a smile, and you almost hide for a different reason.

Holding his eye contact is so hard sometimes. He has such pretty eyes, it’s a shame how hard it is to look at them when you get like this. You want to kiss him, to let him know.

Instead, you just squeeze his hand. “She probably already forgot it happened.” You chew on your bottom lip. “And I’ve been hiding under Derek’s desk for the past, like, ten minutes because I can’t forget about it.”

Spencer doesn’t want to tell you that it’s been twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. You hide your face once again more, dramatically this time. “This will haunt me forever.”

His lip quirks but he tries not to smile too much. “Hey.”

“I know. It’s childish.”

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” he smiles. He ducks his head in the hopes of catching your eyes, but he waits for you to look up first. “You know what I’m going to say?”

You do look at him. He’s so sweet, now you can’t look away. “What?”

He leans forward, feeling his back spine stretching as he does. His large hand sets against your cheek, and you lean into the warmth. He gives you a smile that you call charming, though he probably wouldn’t agree. “I love you.”

You can’t help it. The way he makes you feel is reminiscent of a teenager who just shared eye contact with her crush. He wipes your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, clearing away any water left behind by the few tears that had escaped your clutches. “Stop,” you giggle, turning away.

He guides your face back. His grin is this huge, mushy thing on his face that squints his eyes until his lashes kiss. “Never,” he mutters affectionately. He loves to see you smile. “I love you. Especially when you care a little too much about an accidental wave.”

You catch him in his words, raising your brows accusingly. He’s helping your anxiety tremendously, and you probably won’t realize it until you’ve fully recovered. “So you agree that this is stupid?”

He laughs, shaking his head quickly. His voice, not as soft anymore, is filled to the brim with his happiness “That’s not what I said. I’m saying that I love you because you’re so amazing, and I want you to know it.” He traces the underside of your eyelashes, reluctantly slipping his hand off your cheek. “No matter how many times you wave at someone who isn’t actually waving at you.”

You’re still giggly. “Spencer.” You shift your legs, not without difficulty, to sit in a criss-cross position. Spencer mimics you (with even more difficulty than you). He has to bend down a little so he’ll fit.

“It’s the truth.”

“Well…” you try to dull your giggles to a simmering bubbly feeling in your chest, “I love you, too. Even when I think you’re crazy for loving me…” You think about that for a moment. “Especially when I think you’re crazy for loving me.”

Spencer holds your cheek again and pulls you in for a kiss. You savor this one, your noses brushing affectionately as you do. Spencer doesn’t kiss you at work.

“Will you come back to your desk with me?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours.

You nod gently. “Yeah.”

Spencer smiles, pecking your cheek. He lets go of you to untuck himself from under the desk. He has to stretch his body out before he offers his hand for you. You take it, hoisting yourself up to stand next to him. “Those are mine.” You gesture toward the papers on Derek’s desk as you brush off your pants.

He doesn’t wait for you, he just scoops them into his hands. “I’ve got them.”

“Thanks,” you grin. He sneaks one more kiss, this one to your temple.

You look up at him and hold your arms open, a quiet request. Spencer’s happy to answer your request, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that pulls you closer to him than you feel like you’ve ever been. He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and sighing longingly.

When you pull away, you walk with him. His hand hangs down by his side, and you glance at it as you brush your pinky with his. He smiles, but he doesn’t look over at you.

It’s been hardly ten seconds since you left the office, and your phone is ringing. You furrow your brow, fishing it from your pocket and glancing down at the screen. You sigh gently, silently appreciating her because she means so much.

You put her on speaker. “Penny?”

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” she asks immediately, her voice full of worry. You glance at Spencer, who still doesn’t turn to you. He’s smiling, though, so you know that he knows you’re watching him.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” she asks. “I can go to you. I’ll bring the squishy that you like!”

Your voice fades into a laugh. “I’m okay, Pen, really.”

“Did my desk help?”

The way Derek’s voice sounds when he speaks up makes you flush a little. You keep your voice level, still looking up to stare at Spencer. You trust him not to let you run into anything as he suppresses his smile with the thin line of his lips. “Yes, Morgan, it was very nice.” You raise a brow. “Am I going to hear Prentiss next?”

He laughs. “Just li’l ole me.”

“And me. I’m still here.” Penelope makes you laugh.

“Goodbye, both of you.”

“Bye, honey bun.” “Bye!” You hang up on them.

Spencer’s warmth seeps into your side. You resist the urge to lay your head on his shoulder because you’re supposed to be professional at work. Instead, you sigh and let your pinkies brush. “I love our friends.”

Spencer smiles. “Me, too.”

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 Dr. Reid taglist: @swwanlake Tag yourself here...

[majorlysapphic]

It's mind splurge time once again... :)

Dearest reader, today I am presenting a charminghearts soulmate AU with a (generous) sprinkle of violence. :))

(Taking inspiration from Sabrina Carpenter's new song/mv 'Taste'. @uhhhh-em-draws-stuff since you wanted to see something like this, please consider this AU as a gift/thank you for your wonderful art in the community :)) ).

TW: violence and murder.

Now, without further ado, onto the story idea!

Auradon is a land of fairy tales and idyllic love stories, so it's no shock that soulmates are a well-known and incredibly common aspect of life. So much so that it's considered taboo to not have a soulmate (especially among royal families).

Now, you may be asking: "how do people know if they have a soulmate or not?".

Well, first I'd like to establish that in this AU, some people don't have their destiny-appointed soulmate from birth. The experience of having a soulmate is varied, and sometimes fate takes a little time deciding who your other half is (especially since once your souls are 'linked', it's set in stone for the rest of time). How someone can discern whether they have a soulmate is through the notion of mark-sharing; whenever your soulmate is physically injured, your body bares the same marks left behind on their body (typically in a colour that best represents your other half). The stronger the bond between your souls, the more obvious and long-lasting these marks are.

Now, let's get onto Red and Chloe's lives prior to the start of the main story!

Throughout her entire life, Chloe has been raised on stories about her ancestors finding their 'true loves'. The Charming family bloodline are known for very strong bonds and picture-perfect soulmates, almost acting as the blueprint example throughout all of Auradon's history about how intense a soul-bond can get. So, it's logical to conclude that Chloe can't wait for the day she finally finds her soulmate.

Frustratingly, for the first ten years of her life. Chloe bares no soul marks, however on her eleventh birthday, she's ecstatic to find a bright red soul mark had appeared on her right knee. And whilst she feels bad that her soulmate must have tripped and scraped their own knee, Chloe is elated to know that her soulmate is out there in the world. She spends the rest of her birthday showing off her soul mark to everyone in the castle, and bells are rung out in Cinderellasburg in announcement and celebration that their young princess has reached this renowned milestone of life.

And when the soul mark fades, Chloe's sad to see it go of course. But she doesn't get to miss it long before more start blooming up, and after a month of knowing she has a soulmate, she's sure she's bonded to the clumsiest person in all the kingdoms. And you'd think this inkling of information would help her find her soulmate faster, but it doesn't. So once again, Chloe becomes a frustrated hopeless romantic, documenting every new mark and it's corresponding date and praying to her fairy godmothers she'll find her other half sooner than later.

And at seventeen, she does. At least that's what Chloe thinks.

I'd like to imagine that there are a lot of celebrations going on when the anniversary of the formation of Auradon arrives, so every year a different kingdom hosts other royal families for two weeks of celebrations/peace talks/gifting. So when Chloe was seventeen, it was Cinderellasburg's turn to host. There she meets Zellie, the crown princess of Corona, and Chloe falls hard. The pair get along right off the bat, and there's a spark of hope in Chloe's heart that this is it, especially given the other princesses clumsy nature. But it would be abrupt and extremely against royal decorum for Chloe to investigate whether Zellie is her soulmate or not, so she forces herself to remain patient and see where the future takes them.

Based off of those two weeks of celebration, they start writing letters and visiting each other, and soon enough, Chloe and Zellie are dating. One month into the relationship, Chloe thinks she's never been more happy, her love for Zellie isn't as "all consuming" as her parents described what it's like to be with a soulmate, but Chloe doesn't mind a quiet love. But, she doesn't want to freak the other girl out too early on, so she plans to broach the topic of being each others soulmates when they reach the four month mark of their relationship (though that doesn't stop her from dropping some not so subtle hints about her suspicion every now and then). Unfortunately for Chloe, she never does get to ask, because a week before their four month anniversary, Zellie breaks up with her.

Chloe's heart broken to put it lightly. She doesn't get where this came from, and soon enough she's wallowing in self pity once the communication between her and Zellie becomes more and more infrequent. But after all of this, it doesn't stop her resolve. So like the hopeless romantic she is (unwilling to give up on a girl who surely is her soulmate), she's planning on trying to win Zellie back on the anniversary celebration of Auradon's founding, now being hosted in the Kingdom of Corona.

It should be noted that Chloe will sort of meet Red at Corona's hosting celebration. But before I go into what I mean by 'sort of', it's time to give Red's life some context.

Wonderland citizens are just as likely to have soulmates as those who live in Auradon (who they aren't cut off from in this AU, but their borders are incredibly strict), but it's a topic that's kept behind closed doors given their reigning queens hatred of anything to do with the subject. Growing up, Red knew of the concept of soulmates, but she wasn't too fussed about the idea - so after ten years of her life with no soul marks, she concluded she didn't have a soulmate and moved on without a care. After all, she was much busier occupying her time by trying to prove herself as a worthy crown princess to her mother.

At first, this meant Red had remained studious and proper at all times, but eventually her exceeding academics and royal etiquette were no longer subject to adoration and instead expected as a bare minimum. Frustrated and still seeking her mothers approval as a young kid, Red takes up the habit of somewhat spying on whatever's going within her castles walls. This is where she'll start to realise how much violence and deceit is involved in ruling Wonderland (this is where she finds out that being sentenced to a beheading is the kindest her mother could ever be in judgement). But who is she to question things when all her life her mother has been presented as the ideal standard for what a queen should be?

From this moment on, something clicks into Red's head (perhaps even a bit too easily/quickly, but after growing up surrounded by violence, a girl tends to grow a bit desensitised to it all). She can be a picture perfect princess, but what her kingdom (and her mother) truly needs is someone willing to get their hands dirty for them. And a bit after she turns eleven, Red's able to prove it.

The first time she kills a man, she didn't exactly plan it.

All she knew that there was a young diplomat, perhaps only a few years older than her, who posed a threat to Wonderlands trades (ego, her mothers power). She remembers her mothers angry shouts from behind the doors of a meeting room when meeting with him. She remembers seeing him storm out of the room. She remembers seeing her mother whisper into a trusted guards ear before they rush off to the kitchens. She remembers realising that the diplomat would be dead by dinner time...

It's a slight morbid curiosity that gets Red moving. A growing want to see a soon to be dead man. To try recognise his faults and pinpoint why he deserved to be sentenced to death. So, she sneaks into the wing of the castle made up for visitors, locates his room and enters. There she sees him, looking out from the balcony, lost in his own stressed thoughts given his rigid stance.

Want to know a fun fact? Wonderland doesn't care much for safety standards, much preferring aesthetics.

So, when Red slowly creeps closer, listening in on this diplomats worried mutters, she feels a certain urge. A swift motion would be enough to prove herself. Just one powerful shove could change everything about how she's perceived. There'd be glory, praise, and responsibility. But of course, Red hesitates. This is a big decision, and the more she dwells on it the more troubled she becomes. But soon her decision time is up, and this diplomat is turning around, surprised to see the young princess standing behind him with a far away stare.

She's been caught lurking. Red panics, and the next thing she knows she's launched herself forward. Red's fall lands her on the edge of the balcony, scraping her knee pretty badly (it takes a few more seconds for Red to hear the diplomats fall end on the ground below).

The palace guards find her frozen there an hour later, replaying the events in her mind. Her mother is soon alerted and comes round, she looks to Red and then peeks over the balcony. She knows what's happened now and Red can never take this back. Though once she sees her mother looking down at her for the first time with a gleefully proud smile, Red's concerns seem to wash away.

From that moment on, Red was not only seen as the heir to the crown, but also as a powerful attribute towards Wonderland's power. Her mother was quick to place her in extra classes and training sessions (for more under the table political schemes), and whilst it may have been a harsh learning curve, Red's never felt so alive. Though it should be noted that because of her training sessions, Red tends to get a lot of injuries. It's a regular aspect of her life now, so she doesn't give the bruises and scars too much thought. But this also means that when her soulmarks start appearing in various shades of blue, they blend in well enough to be perceived as bruises.

For the next few years of her life, Red is given 'political tasks' within Wonderland. And the more justified havoc and death she spreads, the better Red becomes. Much to her mothers dismay, this means Red also starts getting restless on her missions, making her restless. And so after a simple recon task ends up with a manor in flames, the queen is left with a decision: take back the freedom she's given Red, or find a way to let the girl explore her true potential and carry on serving her.

The latter option is chosen, and on Red's sixteenth birthday she's presented with an enchanted, golden locket in the shape of a stopwatch. This object is the key to greater, more inconspicuous missions, as once Red places the golden chain around her neck she's disguised from anyone tracing back this version of herself to her true self (I'm imagining in reality, Red's appearance will just switch to Kylie Cantrall's real life look and the extra magic allows the anonymity enchantment to work).

From then on, Red is sent out to Auradon to do more of her mothers dirty work, and during her time there she burns down various historical sights and takes out a few important politicians. It isn't until she turns eighteen is when she's given her biggest and most risky mission yet: assassinating the crown princess of Corona, Zellie. She doesn't ask for the reason why, she just accepts.

This is a delicate mission, and Red figures the best way to get closer to her goal is to hide in plain sight. Slipping on her locket, Red enters the kingdom of Corona masquerading as a viscounts daughter from a faraway kingdom, simply travelling and making memories. Eventually, she meets Zellie at a boring ball and she get's to work charming the unsuspecting princess. It's back and forth flirting, and Red is getting closer and closer to her goal. Soon enough, Red's got the other girl completely enamoured especially after a moment of vulnerability where Zellie tearfully admits to not having a soulmate. Red doesn't see the big deal, but she plays the part of empathic 'friend', and when she tells Zellie that she doesn't have a soulmate either, she sees a flicker of hope in the other princesses eyes. Red pity's her for it, but she's not dwelling on what she feels when she's so so close to finishing her job. She just needs one moment without guards stationed out the door and a clear exit route.

That moment doesn't come immediately as she's called back to Wonderland on 'urgent news' regarding inner kingdom conflicts. But she's quick to assure her mother that she'll have the job done soon enough, since once Zellie found out Red had to leave, she personally invites her, with lovesick eyes, as her guest of honour to Corona's celebration of Auradon's formation.

Red accepts the invitation and returns to Corona two months later for the festivities, with a collection of hidden weapons and her trusty enchanted locket. And that's where she meets Chloe for the first time, after all, its hard not to notice the girl glaring daggers at her as she enters the first ball of the celebrations on Zellie's arm.

During nearly all the events going forward, Chloe is seething with jealousy. She's so sure that Zellie is her soulmate, how could she stay calm when there's another girl by her side? And whilst the two say they're only friends, it doesn't take a genius to work out there's something else there. But, so long as they're still considering each other as friends, Chloe's still able to try win Zellie back.

Though that doesn't sit well with Red. Soon enough, both girls are competing against each other.

They both are trying to dance with Zellie at a ball? They try spoil each others attempts and somehow end up getting partnered with each other for the rest of the dance (and despite the fact that Red can move with the agility of a cat, she all of a sudden can't stop 'accidently' roughly stepping on Chloe's feet during all the dances).

Both of them are trying to sit next to Zellie at an opera? Somehow both end up getting seated in a private booth and end up quietly arguing for the entire performance.

They carry on fighting and thwarting each other. It feels electrifying to be at each others throats like this. Chloe can't seem to get enough of her dynamic with Red, so much so that she starts getting excited to see the other girl. And soon enough, Chloe realises that when she's gripping a champagne glass and gritting her teeth as she watches Red and Zellie dance across the ballroom, her eyes are following Red instead of who she came to Corona for. Thus, leading to the realisation that what she had with Zellie may have been an overexcited puppy love, and despite the fact she doesn't actually know who her soulmate is, she doesn't care all that much when her focus is centred on Red.

During Chloe's new revelations, Red is slowly going insane as her assassination attempts keep getting prevented.

Her plan to waltz Zellie under a falling chandelier? Annoyingly intricate to set up and unsuccessful. Her plan to give Zellie a poisoned flute of champagne at the opera? Knocked over by Chloe in a rush to get to Zellie's side. Her plan to push Zellie off a balcony? Stopped when Chloe steps out with them.

(Red refuses to admit this is the most fun she's had in her whole life).

Red knows Chloe is doing this on purpose, and she starts panicking on whether Chloe's somehow seen past her lockets enchantments and knows the reason why she's here. So, the simple solution? Red has to kill Chloe.

At an ornate masquerade ball, Red finds a way to lure Chloe into an empty servants passage. She's intent on a little interrogation prior to anything, but Red soon forgets about the sharpened blade strapped to her thigh when her back meets the wall and Chloe's lips are on hers.

Okay. That didn't go according to plan. The worst part of it all? Red doesn't seem to mind Chloe's lips on hers. In fact, she rather likes it given the way her heart skips a beat and how she tangles her hands in Chloe's hair.

And by the end of their tryst, Chloe's feels as if she's walking on clouds (she got the girl after all) whilst Red is internally panicking, having never felt so fucked in her life.

The next few days go by in a blur, Red should be focusing on Zellie, but she always seems to gravitate towards Chloe. Soon enough, Red acknowledges that she's going to have to cut her plans short and get her job done by the end of tonight before Chloe messes up her judgement even more.

So in another mind numbing ball, she asks Zellie to meet her in her room once the main dances are finished. Zellie agrees (blissfully unaware and thinking this is the moment she'll get to confess to red and/or vice versa). Once Zellie slips out of the ballroom, Red follows thirty minutes later.

But of course, there's one person in the room Red can't escape the attention from. And who's to blame Chloe for following her? They've been flirting and more, but haven't talked about what exactly they are. She better take this opportunity to talk to the other girl.

Going through the castle's hallways, she searches for Red. And she finds her, though she wasn't expecting to find the other girl in such a state. Because Red's in her ornate ballgown with a dagger clutched in her grip, absolutely drenched in blood. The blood of Chloe's first love (and friend), who is collapsed on the floor and very much not alive anymore after one vicious swipe against her neck.

They're frozen, staring at each other. And then everything happens in a blur and they're fighting. Chloe lands a good few hits in attempt to restrain Red, but her swordsmanship classes don't amount to the same skill Red has gotten from experiencing real fights. Next thing the girls know, Chloe's pinned to the ground and Red's got a dagger digging into her throat.

Chloe's staring up at Red with a multitude of emotions. Sadness. Grief. Anger. Disbelief. It's a rollercoaster of emotions that's expected, though what's got Chloe in absolute heartache is seeing a clean, blue soul mark line appear on Red's throat, perfectly mirroring the cutting edge of the blade Red has on her.

They stare at each other. The wait is agonising, why on earth can't Red take the final blow? She doesn't know, and she's losing time for her escape. So as the clocks chime to signal midnight, Red uses the hilt of her blade to knock Chloe out.

She rushes to change out of her ballgown into a set of clothes that will make fleeing the scene and climbing walls much easier. But she's panicked on her miscalculation with her timing, so once Red all but flings herself out of the rooms window, she doesn't seem to notice that her locket's chain has snapped and fallen to the ground.

It's a small while later that Chloe wakes back up into her sickening reality, realising it wasn't all a sick dream after all. With an aching head, she stumbles into the hallway to go ring an emergency bell. Castle guards will be where she is soon enough, and despite the fact she should stand still and rest, she re-enters the room.

Shivering, she notices how Red didn't even attempt to hide Zellie's body. In fact, this entire crime scene is a chaotic mess, the murder weapon abandoned in the middle of the room. Going towards the only open window, Chloe notices a locket on the ground. The very same locket that she had noticed Red always wearing during the short time she knew her.

Fate is the most cruel thing Chloe's ever dealt with, she decides then. She didn't expect to relive her parents experience (albeit, hers is a lot darker), let alone be in her fathers role, but here she is with her soulmate fleeing the scene after midnight, leaving behind only a blood speckled locket as a reminder of her existence.

Hours later, when Chloe's being interviewed after being treated for her injuries. She doesn't mention the locket, even when the lie makes it feel as if the lockets burning a hole in her pocket. She knows she's being selfish, but this locket is hers to do with as she wishes. So with a determined heart, Chloe ignores the pitying looks of everyone around her as the months pass and the tale of the gruesome murder of Corona's heir is shared.

She's busy trying to find a way to track down Red with this small piece of jewellery. And when she finds her, she's not sure what she'll do. Whether she wants revenge or something else. All she knows is her old self with a head full of fairy tales is fading, and she's willing to do anything to get her hands on the other girl.

A year passes.

Red has long since been banned from going back to Auradon after her mother found out about her various mistakes (though she made sure not to mention Chloe). She can't say she's too mad about it, the situation rattled her more than she expected (especially when she returns home, to find a thin blue soulmark across her neck. She's not an idiot. She knows who it's linked to. She doesn't say anything to anyone about it).

So, she sinks back into her oldest routines as crown princess. But one day she comes into her mothers study to find out that Wonderland is entering some form of political alliance with Cinderellasburg.

Two weeks later she's sat by the dining table of the Charming's castle, refusing to make eye contact with anyone or even contribute to the discussion. During the same dinner, Chloe hasn't taken her eyes off of Red once, unable to shake the feeling that she knows her from somewhere.

Red can only hope that she can stay as far away from Chloe as possible during the alliance (given that once it's established, regular communication and travel between Wonderland and Cinderellasburg will begin).

Chloe's starting to think that she should try find a way to get to know the crown princess of Hearts. Perhaps she'll enlighten Chloe about Wonderland's magic (the very same magic Chloe has figured out is weaved into the locket she carries in her pocket everywhere).

[ssailormoonn]

❛ CUTE ❜

Iguro Obanai X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.3k+| !MDNI! | TW/CW :: nothing just fluffly and cute, obanai teasing you a little

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could u pls do obanai with s/o who are in established relationship, but she still acts as if she's in the crush stage, and she just got the most massive crush on him. And its rlly funny cuz he KNOWS this since he can see through her reactions cuz theyre so obvious how she gets so flustered easily and he finds it rlly cute - ANON

A/NOTE :: i made two scenarios :D

m.list | demon slayer m.list

𝒮𝒞𝐸𝒩𝒜𝑅𝐼𝒪 𝒪𝒩𝐸 ::

It was no different today. You only beamed with excitement as you walked through the market. What was sweetest was the spark in your eyes as you looked at him, how red your cheeks flushed whenever he looked your way.

Obviously, he could see right through your attempts at being nonchalant: so forthrightly, you were head over heels for this man and so adorably pleasing.

In the sweet shop, written across your face was excitement; you were bopping up and down on the balls of your feet. Your fingers brushed his arm as you peered eagerly into the display case that held the pastries.

Obanai had a moment where he fawned over you. He was in love with the fact that you would glance over at him, trying to act composed but would turn a bright red whenever he would catch you staring.

When you faltered at the counter, not really sure what to pick, he couldn't resist teasing you. "Take your time. I'll get us a table," he said lightly.

You nodded again, too flustered still to say anything remotely coherent. He turned and walked away, his eyes never leaving you from across the room until your gaze fell, your cheeks still pink. It was these kinds of moments that made him fall for you further.

He sat at the small table and watched as you tried to be cool, composed. More than obvious, you still held him in very high esteem, and to him, it was sweet. Your nervousness, your blushing, fumbling through with your napkin.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm. "You know, you're quite the sight to behold when you're this flustered," he softly said.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you toyed with your napkin, trying to compose yourself. "I-I'm not flustered!" you protested, though your flushed cheeks gave that away.

Obanai smiled back at him, his eyes tender. "It's okay. I find it incredibly cute," he said. "It's one of the many things I love about you."

You looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "Really? You think so?"

"Yes, absolutely, he replied, "You always are so sincere, so genuine, with me. It makes me fall for you even more."

"I'm glad you enjoyed today," he said lowly.

"I did," you said, looking up into him with a soft smile. "Thank you for always making me feel this way."

Obanai paused and pulled you close. His arms were warm and protective. "You make me feel the same. And I hope you never stop being so wonderfully flustered around me."

You looked up at him. "I don't think I ever could."

𝒮𝒞𝐸𝒩𝒜𝑅𝐼𝒪 𝒯𝒲𝒪 ::

The meeting of the Hashira had just been dismissed. You had tried to keep calm while the meeting was going on, but now it is over, and he can make your heart race with just his presence.

He was gathering his sword when Obanai reached out to touch your shoulder, and that sent another warm thrill through you. Any time his fingers brushed against you, it was like a jump of excitement hit your heart.

Unbeknownst to you, the other Hashira lingered back, interested in the interchange that went on between you and Obanai. From their vantage point, they could very obviously perceive the budding playful dynamic that was about to ensue.

Mitsuri elbowed Shinobu, the glint of mirth likely coming into her eyes. "Obanai, he is really getting off on this."

Shinobu smiled tenderly as she viewed the scene before her. "Never have I seen him like this. She certainly has him eating out of her palm.".

Just as you were to leave with Obanai, he set one hand very lightly at the base of your spine and nudged you toward the door.

There goes your composure. Your cheeks? Red.

You tried to keep face in order while the warmth of his hand and the light stroke of his fingers against your skin had already turned out to be too much for you.

"Are you alright?" Obanai asked, ready to tease you. "You seem awfully nervous. We have been together for a little while now."

You looked up at him flushing your cheeks a deeper shade of pink. "I—I'm fine! It's just… you know… It's been a long day."

Obanai further smirked and teased you a little more. "Is that so? Because you still seem to be in the phase of infatuation. I mean, what with that attitude? We have been together long enough after all."

You stuttered at fumbling words while your hands nervously clutched at your haori's hem. "I—I just… get really excited when I'm around you."

His tone teased, softened, and he squeezed your hand once gently. "Well, I find it endearing. But you don't need to be so nervous around me. I'm not going anywhere."

"You know," Obanai said, his face breaking into a playful grin, "I'm starting to think you enjoy being this flustered. Is it my touch that makes you blush like that?"

You bit your lip, feeling yourself smile. "Maybe a little. It's just… you have a way of making me feel all… fluttery."

Obanai's face softened as he pulled you clos. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. I wouldn't want it any other way."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[orshii]

Tempted (our little secret)

Author: orshii

Pairing: Choi San x female reader

Word count: 3,2 k

Summary: You were secretly with San, but you weren’t in a relationship, as you didn’t want your friends to know. But slowly the two of you get tired of the constant hiding and confusing emotions.

Will you be able to make the next big step?

A/N: Hii! Soo...San drives me crazy recently, so I had to write this...something ig? Like just bfr why is he so perfect?! Okay, enough of me, enjoy this little drabble! sorry if there are mistakes, ty for reading, xoxo, orshii! (divider)

I was sitting in a black Uber with the girls, on our way to celebrate Yunho's birthday party, which was a surprise for him, organized by his girlfriend, who was my best friend. She was so excited the whole week, as everything needed to be in its place, annoying me the whole time, as Yunho can't find out no matter what. She was really determined to organize this little get-together with our friends' circle.

As I was sitting in the car, I got excited too because we haven't been together for at least a month. I missed being with my friends, as everyone was occupied by their own life, work taking most of our time. This little friend group of ours started in college, as my best friend got together with Yunho with a lot of ups and downs, they both being very obvious but blind. So, when they finally got together, Yunho's friend group and ours started to go out a lot of times, organizing a lot of random trips into the mountains, going on holidays together. As we graduated, luckily, our friend group stayed the same, but with less hanging out. I felt some kind of relief as we were heading to the fancy restaurant, where my best friend reserved tables.

We stepped out from the Uber after paying the driver and thanking him for the ride. The sun already went down, leaving behind nothing but the lights of the city, which came to life with the people going out to party or just to have some fun in the city, as the weather was very nice, the beginning of summer swinging in the chill air.

I pulled down a little the black tight dress I was wearing, as it was a little short, and adjusted the gift I bought for Yunho, as I couldn't come empty-handed, and we went into the restaurant, which was all luxurious and fancy, black being the main color of the area, with a spark of gold. It really screamed rich vibes. I had no idea how my best friend managed to reserve a table for ten people in this place, but I guess she had her own ways for that. At the entrance, a lady waited for us with a bright fake smile, as we told her that we had a reservation. She showed the way towards the said table; some of the guys were already there, but Yunho and my best friend weren't yet, as I assumed they were coming when supposedly everyone was here. The table was already set, some candles and little sparkling decorations were on it. It looked very inviting; I'm sure Yunho is going to like it.

As I sat down, next to the girls, I made eye contact with him. He was glaring at me with his sharp eyes, taking me in, up and down, as a little smile appeared on his lips, his dimples showing. He was wearing a white elegant shirt, with two buttons undone, his sharp collarbones on the sight and a chain-like necklace around his neck, that almost reached his collarbones. His raven-black hair wiped back, only a few stripes falling into his forehead. I greeted the others as I immediately averted my eyes off of him. I didn't want to be suspicious. We started to chat with the girls, trying to catch up on the things we missed in each other's lives, some old wines appearing on the table, brought by the waiter, whom I made eye contact a few times; he was cute and handsome. I felt two sharp glares on me from time to time, but I just didn't mind him. I came here to have fun.

After a while, finally, Yunho and my best friend came, Yunho had a blindfold on his eyes, so he couldn't see us, and when they came to the table, he took off the blindfold and we started clapping and singing for him. I felt happy as everyone was smiling at Yunho, and him being so surprised and emotional because of the sweet surprise. He leaned towards my best friend and pecked her lips, with the sweetest and happiest smile, as their foreheads touched and they whispered something to each other, probably Yunho thanking his beautiful girlfriend for organizing all of this. I was so happy seeing them like this, it made my heart melt, as I saw how deeply in love, they were with each other. That's what I wished for all my life, as it didn't really come, yet. I was confused all my life, of when love will come into my life, will it eventually come?

I was still confused as we finally sat down, and I made eye contact with San, who was a really special person in my life. We weren't together, but we weren't total strangers to each other. The thing is, we kind of had a thing going on between the two of us; we just didn’t really know what it was. We still needed to figure it out, so we decided not to tell our friends until we somehow figured it out on our own, not letting others interrupt our feelings. Because I'm sure there were feelings, some feelings I couldn't put anywhere. That was sure, I never felt like this towards anyone, but I wasn't exactly sure if it was only a tidal wave. And I wasn't sure if San felt the same way, or if he even felt something.

The ominous dramatic night when he kind of confessed to me in the rain still made my heart melt, as we had a brutal fight before that, and we were yelling at each other, but it was because of some childish things. We were yelling at each other in the pouring rain, just until he grabbed my hands and yanked me towards him and told me the sweetest things, he could ever say to me. And suddenly I was lost in the tide of emotions, fear being my biggest enemy as I didn't know if it was a good thing being with him. But I couldn't really think a lot because he suddenly pressed his lips against my wet lips, and we were just standing in the rain, soaked, taking in the other’s lips like we could never imagine. His wet lips moving against mine, I could taste the raindrops on his lips, which kind of tasted sweet, as everything that connected me with San always tasted sweet like honey. When we separated, he promised me, he is going to protect me from the world, no matter what. From then, we were hanging out, he took me to special places, we made out a lot, we even slept together. We had times when we were with our friends and we secretly kissed each other, hiding behind trees, going out to the bathroom, him coming after me, almost getting caught in the heated moments by our friends. We did this for months and I kind of started to get enough of this hiding. But the thing is, I felt like it was only a friends with benefits kind of relationship. We didn't really speak about ourselves when we were together; it felt strange as it was supposed to drive us towards a real relationship, but sometimes it felt awkward, and sometimes it felt like the most natural thing ever, just being with him, and not exactly speaking, just being in each other's presence. I really wanted it to be something more serious between us, but I didn’t really see the signs that it could happen anytime.

Being in the present time, I tried to have fun and talk with my friends a lot, I missed them and felt nice being with them and pretending we were again in college, not having any adult problems in our lives. After some drinking and eating, Yunho's birthday cake was brought to the table with big candles and sparklers on it. Yunho looked sincerely happy and my best friend looked at him, with loving eyes, as Yunho closed his eyes to wish something and blew out the candles.

My eyes eventually found San's again, as they couldn't be apart from each other for a long time, I tried to avoid his gaze all night, but it wasn't easy, as I felt his sharp eyes on me all the time. He glared at me and tilted his head very slowly, nodding towards the bathroom. My heart started to race quickly to that as I slowly slid my chair back and excused myself to the bathroom.

When I reached the ladies bathroom, no one was here, so I just stood right in front of the mirror to check if my lip-gloss was smudged from eating. Then I heard the door opening, a few quiet footsteps, and I felt two warm hands around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest, as he was glaring at me through the mirror in front of us. His dark cherry scent hugged me around, like it never wanted me to escape. He slowly nuzzled his nose into the side of my neck, following the line of my veins, as I tilted it so he had better access to it, still glaring at me through the mirror.

"God, I missed your smell." His low voice sent goosebumps around my body, as he smelled my neck, pulling me closer by my waist, as he couldn't get enough of me. He started to kiss the line of my neck up to my ear and slowly biting my earlobe, I shot my eyes closed as my body started to feel hotter, he slowly turned me around, still holding me close, not letting any space between us.

"This dress looks really good on you, Y/N." He traced the line of my sides, where the dress showed my hourglass shape. "You look beautiful." He reached his hand to my chin holding it between his fingers, to look into his eyes, as I couldn't really look into his, when he looked at me like he could eat me right there. He probably wasn't too far from that.

"Thank you." I whispered into his lips. "You look good, as well." I smiled at him teasingly.

He finally smiled, his sharp glare disappearing, as his eyes formed crescents, his deep dimples showing on both sides of his cheeks. "I dressed up only for you." He said with a sweet smile, cupping my face.

I chuckled at that, how could he be so adorable, I can't take this forever. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to die, Sannie." I said smiling at him fondly, feeling as happiness crawled into my veins with every passing minute as I was with him.

"Doing what?" He chuckled as it made my heart more and more warm.

"Being cute, don't do that." I pouted at him.

"Do you want me to be rough?" His voice dropped a few octaves, as he frowned. It always amazed me, how he could switch from being a little adorable cat, to a buffed, scary man. It was insane. He slowly pushed me against the sink, my lower back stinging from the impact.

"San-ah!" I hit his chest, chuckling, as I felt my face getting warmer.

"C'mon, I just want to kiss, my girl." He whined with a pout on his lips.

"Then do it, you idiot." I smiled at him, as I started to get very impatient. He grabbed my waist again and pulled me closer, so he could kiss me finally. I really missed his lips on mine, and just being with him, as we recently both were full with work, we couldn’t really focus on each other. Our lips moved together desperate, not wanting to separate, he tasted like the wine that he drank, I could feel the grapes that were harvested from a big dry Italian field. His lips moved with mine with passion, his hands running up my back to my nape, pushing me forward just to deepen the kiss, I let out a quiet moan at that. When we ran out of oxygen he captured my lower lip between his teeth, biting it so hard I felt like my lower lip is going to bleed if he keeps doing that. My body started to heat, the tension between us getting warmer and warmer. I was very tempted to let him do anything he wanted right there. He slowly started to kiss my jaw, going down my neck leaving sweet passionate kisses on the way, until he reached my collarbone, just to suck a little red mark there. His grip on my waist tightening with the tension getting heavier between us.

“San, they are going to see it.” I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him up to look into his eyes serious.

“I don’t care, I want them to see that you are mine.” He looked at me sharply, the desire in his eyes burning like hell.

He was about to kiss me again, when suddenly we heard talking from the door and we quickly separated from each other just to rush into one of the stalls. I locked the door quickly.

"Stand on the toilet, so they won't see your shoes." I whispered to him feeling nervous of being caught.

He quickly stood up on the toilet which made a weird noise. We looked at each other and started laughing quietly as I pressed my hands to my mouth so I won't make a noise, San did the same as I saw that tears started to appear in his eyes, from the withholding laughter. At the exact same time, the door opened and we heard talking. It was two of the girls, from our friend groups. I leaned my head against the door, and tried to think of some serious things, so I won't laugh.

"Y/N, is that you?" I heard a voice coming from outside after a while. "Are you okay?" My eyes rounded, I started to panic, suddenly words couldn’t come out of my mouth but San nudged me to say something.

"Ahm…Ye-Yes, I'm okay, I just have cramps, but I'll be right back." I said with my voice a bit weak, as they needed to believe what I said. I locked my eyes with San’s as he was struggling to hold his laughter back.

"Okay, tell me if you need anything." My friend said.

"Okay." I answered my voice getting a little weird, as I couldn’t hold my laughter, but they already left the bathroom and I broke into laughter alongside with San. I sighed in relief and leaned against the door, closing my eyes, trying to calm down.

"Fuck, we almost got caught." I whispered, not looking at San. I heard as he slowly jumped off from the toilet and cupped my face.

"What if we don't hide anymore? I'm sick of this constant running when one of our friends are around. At the end of the day, they are our friends." He said still whispering for some reason.

I looked at him, as my heart started to race on the thought of finally being together with San, properly. It surprised me because I would never have thought that San would be the first to take the first step in our relationship. Sure, he was the one confessing to me, but after that it kind of seemed like he was waiting for me, so I could decide what I wanted.

"Really? Do you think we can finally step on the next level? Is it serious for you?" I asked him, feeling a bit nervous, as this question could never leave my mind.

"Of course it is, it was from the beginning, I was just waiting for you, so you could put together the puzzles in your head, as I knew you had a hard time back then," he said smiling at me like I was his whole world.

I held his wrists, that held my face. "Why are you so perfect?" I questioned him, with a smile.

He shrugged with a chuckle. "I don't know, God made me like this, I guess." He smiled, as his face got serious slowly. "But seriously, I want to be with you, properly. I don't want to hide anymore, I want to show you to the world, I want to show everyone that I have the most beautiful woman on Earth, and I don't want anybody near you, just me." His voice was sweet like honey, as his words flowed through my lips, into my heart, as I felt my heart swimming in nothing but honey.

I sincerely smiled at him. "I want to be with you too, San. I want to show our friends how proud I am of you, I always needed to just smile, whenever you talked about your job achievements, but now I want the whole world to know that how proud I am of my Sannie and that I’m right by your side." My smile never disappeared as my eyes sparkled, sweet emotions flowing around us like sweet protectors.

He looked at me, like he couldn't believe his eyes, like he couldn't believe the fact that I was his, wholeheartedly. He closed the distance between our lips, and kissed me like never before, like I was the last thing he cared about, like we were the last standing human beings on earth and the end of the world was near. His lips moved along with mine like it was destined for each other, like it was made for each other. The kiss was slow and passionate, his hands still cupping my cheeks, his right hand slowly tracing down my spine just to grab my waist and pull me closer to him. Our heartbeats were beating with the same rhythm as they became one with us.

"Will you be officially my girlfriend and partner in crime, Y/N?" He caressed my cheeks with loving eyes, after we separated from the best kiss of my life. And how many were waiting for me still.

"Of course I will, San." I smiled at him sweetly, as he leaned again towards my lips, capturing it like he wanted to stamp our promise to each other.

"I would've never thought this is going to be the place when we are going to make our next big step." I said overflowed with happy emotions.

We laughed at our situation and stepped out from the stall finally, leaving our concerns about each other behind. All the concerns and the bad feelings of not being able to be together with San flew away as I saw how San was looking at me, his eyes were full with care, full with love, that made my heart melt.

We left the bathroom hand in hand, so we could finally introduce each other to our friends as boyfriend and girlfriend, many big steps still awaited us in our future together.

[raisedbythetv89]

Spike is the spark that brings Buffy’s fire (her ability to love) back

(stone - a notoriously non flammable material)

Buffy’s love is spoken about in relation to fire but even brighter and more intense

she sings of wanting the fire (her ability to love and feel as deeply as she once did) back - where once was a flame so bright it burned her - now there is nothing but black & cold

spike’s love for Buffy is also equated to fire showing how he matches her intensity with which she loves (love the use of the lighting in this shot he literally looks like he’s sitting back to back with his shadow as he wrestles for a moment of just letting Buffy die before ultimately going to help her) also this line is showing how much loving Buffy has cost him the burdens he’s carried, the pain and sacrifices he’s made and endured - “I have come to redefine the terms pain and suffering since falling in love with you” loving Buffy for Spike is painful AND HE STILL LOVES HER AND KEEPS TRYING TO DO AND BE BETTER FOR HER LITERALLY NO MATTER WHAT 😭🤚🏻

but this line from Giles foreshadows the need for Spike to get his soul (the spark) back in order for Buffy to get her fire back - soulless spike’s love is not enough because of the guilt and shame she feels loving a soulless demon

(thank you @spuffylatino for this spike screen grab)

e voila! Their joint hands burst into flames in the moment Buffy can finally say the words “I love you” which she hasn’t told a romantic partner that since Angel - representing Buffy getting her fire back and that she has found someone who not only won’t pull away from the intensity of her love but can match it

hands ablaze and neither pulls away until forced to by the collapsing hellmouth and Buffy gasps in relief because she did it, she got the fire back and now she can tell him with no fear or shame that she loves him before it’s too late

and after she says it she has sort of this “I know that’s pretty obvious given our joint hands are currently ablaze as our twin flame souls intertwine but you deserve to hear it and I wanted to and now CAN say it” look on her face like she’s really fucking proud of him but also herself that this is how far they’ve come both as individuals and a couple

When I say Spike is the best romantic partner for Buffy it’s not because it’s perfect - it’s because after she dates angel and riley she’s an emotionally devastated, vulnerable, heartbroken, abandoned YET AGAIN mess who can barely hold it together and gets more and more closed off each time. But THIS is the impact Spike has on her. Despite all they go through he is a catalyst for the return of her strength, confidence, healing, and emotional vulnerability. I love the overall impact he has on her as well as her on him!! They change each other for the better!! Through their love!!!! THAT’S AMAZING!!

[modanisgf]

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?�� you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 7 * mv1

the news is out: three time world champion, max verstappen, and his girlfriend of 6 years have been broken up since the singapore weekend.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: wow i took thE longest break from this

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

max isn’t typically the type to let panic settle in. at least, that’s what he likes to think. he likes to tell people he’s not bothered but outsiders are always quick to catch up with his suppressed emotions. 

alas, his worst fears have come true. news has broken that you’ve been broken up for almost 2 months. 

he has not been able to talk about it with daniel, so he can only imagine how things will break down in austin. 

he hopes that it’s not actually that big of a deal. plenty of other drivers have gotten themselves in messier breakups — the post doesn’t seem to touch on any speculations about how yours had come about. he can only bank on the hope that journalists are empathetic enough not to bring you up. 

but you’ve been very involved in his career and the cameras on the paddocks. they never missed the chance to have you speak into a mic or have a private conversation with you. 

pictures snapped of you together are never posted, but would be directly sent to either of you to truly encompass the privacy of your relationship. the respect shared between you and everyone on the paddocks was treasured, which is probably why your presence had been notable after you abruptly disappeared. 

he sinks into his couch, phone in hand as he stares at the pictures that sparked up speculations. it’s a low-quality picture of you leaving the red bull home, head down as your hair shied you away from the camera. the second picture is of him coming out of the building, hair dishevelled as he stood with his arms folded over his chest.

“what do i do?” max mumbles, his finger swiping over the screen again and again, staring at the two pictures. as if it would change the course of things if he did it enough. “do i talk to her?”

“i don’t know, man,” daniel sighs, his face in the far corner of max’s screen. “i mean, the best you can do is to wait it out, right?”

“rumours could spread,” charles mutters, looking away briefly with his eyes widened. “if i were you, i’d want to do some damage control. but that’s probably just me.”

max sits back, staring at the empty half of his hotel bed. your absence is always noted when he’s all alone and he's too awake for his own good, once having the luxury of your company and bright smile making him feel giddy.

the difference between this breakup and all of charles' is that there is no controversy in this one. as far as he's concerned, this is all speculation from photos that are now circulating the internet and your obvious absence on race weekends.

nobody can even really confirm if it's true unless you or max say something. for now, they're just rumours. right?

unless you've started speaking to people, and gossip platforms. but you wouldn't do any of that, or at least that's what he's telling himself. but from what he can dig out of the grave in his brain, there was nothing that happened between you that can be twisted.

but what does he know?

he can only keep praying to the fact that you'll keep it as private as you usually do.

his phone is buzzing endlessly, his other friends sending him texts as the news shocks them as much as the world. lando is asking him if he's holding up fine, martin is expressing how he feels for max, and his own mother asking him why he hadn't told her earlier.

only victoria's message will be getting an answer. after all, she's the first person that found out.

"should i talk to her?" max thinks out loud, maximising the facetime call to get a good look at his friends' reactions. "she never does well with things like this, what if people are bothering her?"

charles' picture is overtaken by alexandra's face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "you wanna talk to her?"

max shrugs. "i don't know. maybe?"

"would that be the best choice though?" daniel tilts his head. behind him, heidi is approaching cautiously with a small smile. "babe, what do you think?"

heidi shrugs as daniel's camera slowly turns to her. "my opinion is probably not - it's been two months. and judging by the comments that i read, i don't think there's much disrespect that has to be told off publicly."

alexandra nods as charles slowly comes back into the frame next to her. "it's up to you, max. as of right now, it doesn't seem that serious."

max sighs again, this time louder as he feels everything coming down on him. he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. "i don't know, you guys," he sighs again loudly. "i just want to know if she's alright."

"maybe not now, mate," charles answers sympathetically, frowning at him through the camera.

"just wait it out. it could die down quicker than you think," daniel says hopefully.

max nods, now suddenly feeling disinterest in their conversation. he only craves to be by himself now. "alright, i'll catch you guys in a bit," his eyes turn to the cats sleeping peacefully on the cat tree, "i've got to feed the cats."

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Seven

Summary: Y/n has figured out how to go home. Azriel is desperately trying to hold on, no matter how much it burns.

Warnings: slight descriptions of burns and wounds, angst

Series Master List

-Part Seven-

Azriel was pissed. He had been told by Rhys that she’d figured it out, that she was setting up the portal, that she was leaving at any moment. Something vicious and sharp had punched him in the gut when his brother had reached out with his mind to say those words and there was this instant anger that over took him.

Azriel had left mid conversation with Cassian, ignoring his confused shouts as Azriel launched into the sky. Flying straight for the house of wind.

She was going to leave, any second and she would be gone, and he didn’t know why there was something screaming in him not to let that happen. He’d promised her that she would go home, that he would do everything he could to get her there, and yet his mind and shadows were screaming, stay, stay, don’t let her go, she can’t leave, stay, stay, don’t leave.

Azriel slams onto the balcony, knees barking in pain but he doesn’t care. He’s running down the hall, following this invisible string that tugs him towards her. He’s barely registering where he’s going, left and right, down the steps, right and left, through the halls, towards her. She’s leaving, she’s leaving and I’ll never see her again.

The door is open, voices fluttering out to meet him and he takes a single second to compose himself. Azriel forces each ugly emotion into a box, locking it away behind the mask of the shadowsinger.

“That was quick,” Rhys smirks as soon as Azriel walks into the empty room.

They’d cleared out the furniture of the spare bedroom, a bucket of black paint in the center of the floor. Kneeling before it is Y/n, a thick brush in her already paint stained hand. Her arm is bandaged, dark red seeping through the white cloth, and suddenly he can smell her blood everywhere. It envelops him, and this primal part of him snarls, eyes searching for the threat, to protect her from whatever dared to harm her. He shoves that down, down, down.

“You’re just in time for the party,” she grins, looking him in the eyes without that hesitation he’d seen last night, and he can see the genuine light in them, the happiness, it’s enough to calm the raging beast inside him, just slightly.

“Why are you bleeding?”

She holds up her arm, “old spells seem to require blood for almost everything. We mixed mine in with the paint to make it easier.”

He so badly wants to tear into her for trying to just leave without a word, slicing her arm halfway open to do it, to yell and yell, and yet he sees that spark in her and he can’t, “you figured it out.”

Feyre holds out a piece of paper to him, a sketch in the center of it, and Azriel examines the strange mark. It almost looks like a doorway, an arch, he’s half tempted to tear it to shreds.

“It should have been obvious,” Y/n says, standing up from the ground, “it’s so simple I’m almost mad I didn’t get it sooner.”

She stands at his side, paint stained hand reaching over his arm to trace over the mark, “It looks almost identical to unlocking, which is one of the first things my mom ever taught me, I looked over it so many times. But it’s so simple, stupidly simple that I overlooked it again and again. Didn’t help that the spell is in this ancient language I’ve never seen or heard, even Amren didn’t recognize it.”

She looks up at him, eyes shining so bright that he can’t help but give her the faintest smile. Her eyes dip to his mouth, grin faltering just barely, a brief look passing through her face, Azriel almost convinces himself that it’s longing. If he was delusional he’d think that maybe she’d think twice about leaving, about leaving him.

“How do you open it?” Rhys asks walking around that archway, “or does it just do it on its own in a few minutes?”

“A little more blood and a spell,” she says, unwrapping the bandage on her arm, “I need to write the name of the place or person I’m trying to see.”

Azriel’s nose flares at the smell of her blood, he can’t even look as she dips her fingers in the wound and starts to draw out the marks on the floor, whispering the name of her home over and over.

You look like you’re ready to scream, Rhys says into his mind, don’t tell me you’ve grown attached so soon.

Mind your own business, Azriel growls back.

It takes her several minutes to draw out the word, meticulously examining every curve and line to make sure it’s absolutely perfect. He wants her to hurry up, to slow down, to stop all together.

“Alright,” Y/n says as she stands, “that should be it.”

She takes the Walking Dead from Feyre, who steps away and into her mate’s side. The High Lady curiously watches, glancing at Azriel like she’s connecting pieces in her mind. He’s half tempted to give her the same warning he’d given her mate.

Y/n starts to speak, voice straining over the foreign words. They sound harsh against her usually soft accent. Her face scrunches, almost as if she’s in pain, and Azriel can feel it in his own throat. She doesn’t sound like herself, the words turning to rasps.

Faint green light starts to flare from the painted gate, and Y/n’s voice cracks on the words. A salty tang hits the air and Azriel sees the tears falling down her face.

“Stop,” he says, taking a single step closer.

She doesn’t, she keeps going and the center of the gate turns green. The room turns unbearably hot, hot wind swirling round and round, and Y/n’s eyes get a glassy far away look. Something was wrong, this wasn’t right, wrong wrong wrong.

“Y/n stop!”

She can’t hear him, she can’t hear Rhys and Feyre shouting on the other side of her. Azriel can’t hear them either he realizes, he’s in a shield of air, trapped inside with no way out. Sweat slides down his skin, his wings tucking against him, his shadows hiding beneath. The air slices through his skin, drawing his blood.

She’s stuck there in the center of it, the words she screams turning to a garbled mess, like her throat was being shredded from the inside out. The book in her hands glows bright green, illuminating her face in the sickly color. The gate is dark, that green light being eaten up from the inside, something lurks on the other side and he’s sure it isn’t the beautiful Terrasen she had told him of.

“Y/n let go!” He pushes towards her, heat blasting his skin, “Let go of the damned book.”

He reaches for her, a brief moment of panic hitting him as he touches her scorching hot skin, burning his already scarred hands. For just a moment he’s transported back to that dark corner his half brothers had found him in, to the feeling of oil coating his hands, to the smell of his burnt flesh in his nose. Everything in him recoils, trying to get away from that heat, but she’s right there, tears running down her face. She’s in so much pain, he can feel it in his own chest, pain, pain, pain.

Azriel screams as he wraps his arms around her, trying to pry that cursed book from her hands but her grip is like iron. Every part of him is burning, begging for him to let her go, let whatever it was on the other side take her. But he won’t, he can’t, he screams and screams and begs her to let go of the book, pulling her to his chest, yanking on that string, pleading with the Mother to let her go.

“Please,” he sobs through his teeth, “let go, just let go, Princess.”

Burning, he was burning alive. He wasn’t sure he’d even survive, and if he did her body would be imprinted into his wherever they touched. Screaming, begging, burning and burning and burning

Princess please, he begs, the words not even making it past his lips as he screams, “let go, please, let it go!”

He yanks harder, holding her burning body to his own, “Where’d you go, Princess? Come back, please just come back to me.”

And like a switch had turned off, her hands relax and that Mother forsaken book falls into the inky darkness below, disappearing as the portal closes around it.

She collapses, body still burning into his. Azriel hears screaming, he can’t tell if it’s his or Feyre’s as that shield of air collapses and lets the High Lady and Lord in. Rhys is yelling something, Azriel thinks it’s his name but he can’t tell. He doesn’t know anything, anything but pain and the female in his arms.

Azriel dreamt of fire. Oily slick all over his skin that lit on the tip of a match, burning and burning, it wouldn’t stop no matter how he screamed or how he begged. It kept burning, the scars on his hand melting away till there was nothing left but bone. He’s reaching, flesh melting away, reaching through the flames towards a female on the other side of the dark room, she’s burning, she’s the match to his skin, but he keeps reaching for her.

Everything hurts, his skin, his throat, his heart. That’s the first thing he registers as he wakes, the second is pure panic.

His eyes fly open and he’s searching, sending out shadows, looking for the burning female. It briefly connects that he’s in his bed in the house of wind, that the sun is peaking through the drawn curtains.

“Relax, brother.”

Azriel’s eyes find Cassian sitting in a chair beside his bed, “Where is she?”

Cassian sighs, leaning forward in his seat to rest his arms over his knees, “Why am I not surprised? She’s okay, she’s sleeping in her room across the hall.”

He feels it then, the tendril of shadow that sneaks through the gap in her door, it finds her, and it wraps around her wrist, a tether between them that he can feel right next to his heart.

“How long have we been out?” Azriel asks, his voice rasping.

Cassian hands him a glass of water off the nightstand, “You’ve been in and out for almost two days now. I got here with Madja after you and Y/n collapsed. You went half feral when I tried to take her out of your arms to let Madja look at you. It took both me and Rhys to hold you down, you were screaming at us to let you go, to not touch her. I think you told Rhys you’d rip his head off if he got near her.”

Azriel didn’t remember any of it, he only remembered the pain and the fear as he’d held her, “How bad was the damage?”

“Not as bad as it should be, with the way you were screaming, Rhys wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of you.” Cassian frowns down at the bedsheets, no doubt imagining just that, “Madja was able to heal most of the burns already, the few on your chest will take longer but she doesn’t think they’ll scar to badly. Rhys has a theory that even when she was possessed by that damned book Y/n was able to put a shield between you two, trying to protect you. I think you’re just a lucky bastard.”

“How is she?”

At that his brother’s eyes shutter, and the panic is back in Azriel’s chest. No, no, she had to be alright, she was there, on the other side of that shadowy tether, breathing, alive. He’s pushing himself up off the bed, ignoring the screaming pain beneath the bandages across his chest.

He snarls, “Cass tell me-“

Cassian holds up his hands, “Just please promise me you won’t freak, okay?”

“What’s wrong with her?” Azriel asks, forcing himself to breathe, to calm the hell down.

“She was burning up, her internal temperature was so high, Madja was scared she would burnout,” Cassian describes slowly, “we had to keep filling up the bath with cold water, it would steam and disappear almost instantly. It took hours for her temperature to drop enough for Madja to even touch her to begin examining her. Physically, she’s mostly fine, there’s some damage to her vocal chords, some burns along her arms and back that will heal in time. But she hasn’t woken up, not once since she collapsed. Rhys and Feyre can’t get past that protection spell on her to check on her mind, they don’t know when she’ll wake up.”

There’s a silent ending to the sentence that his brother won’t say, and Azriel can infer it on his own based on the half broken look Cassian gives him. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he’s yanking on that tether. She’s there on the other side of it, alive, she’s alive, she’s alive. He repeats it over and over as the panic locks up his whole body, as Cassian’s unspoken words echo through his head.

They don’t know if she’ll wake up.

It was a battle of wills to get up out of his bed. Cassian was about ready to strap Azriel to the gods damned thing when Az had used a shadow to throw his brother away from him.

“That’s not fair!” Cassian struggles against the creature, “Madja said you needed to rest. You’ll go and open up your wounds and end up with a damned infection!”

Azriel grimaces as he stands up, “I don’t care.”

“Az! Damnit,” Cassian groans, “You stubborn bastard, sit the fuck down.”

Azriel ignores him, limping towards the door on unsteady legs, body screaming in pain at each step. He didn’t care, he needs to see her, to see with his own eyes that she was okay, to scream at her to wake the fuck up so he could scream at her again for being so reckless.

“Mother help me I swear,” Cassian breaks away from the shadowy hold, “You’re not even dressed for gods sake.”

He was in his undershorts, upper body wrapped in white bandages. It was good enough.

Cassian swears loudly as Azriel almost falls, wrapping his arms around his brother to keep him upright. Azriel groans when his wounds come into contact with Cassian’s arms. It was agony.

“I told you,” Cassian growls, “Now will you please just lay down.”

“No. Just help me over there,” Azriel snarls, Cassian opens his mouth to argue and Azriel sends him a pleading look, “Please, Cass, I need to see her, I- please.”

His brother searches his face, whatever Cassian sees in his eyes has him sighing, “Fuck, fine, fine. Put your arm over my shoulder.”

Azriel complies, letting Cassian support most of his weight. They struggle through the door and across the hall, her door opens, revealing a irate Mor.

“You couldn’t have put some pants on first?” She opens the door wider to let them in, “You two are loud enough to be heard across the Sidra, fighting like a bunch of dogs.”

Azriel ignores her, finding the sleeping female in the center of the room. She looks small, frail, swallowed whole by the humorously large bed. The only indication that she’s even alive is the slight rise and fall of her chest, the beating heart he can feel from across the room. His shadow is still wrapped around her wrist, caressing the pulse point, counting each beat.

He pulls away from his brother, moving slowly across the room where he basically collapses on the edge of her bed. His scarred hands reach for her, replacing that little shadow. Her hand is so cold between his, a stark contrast to the raging fire she’d been days ago.

“We’ll be in the hall,” Mor says softly behind him, “let us know if you need anything.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t register the door opening and closing behind him, just stares at the beautiful female beside him. Her face is relaxed, no pain, no tears, no sign that anything is wrong. Yet she still sleeps.

She’s dreaming, dreaming, sleeping, she’s dreaming of you, his tendril of shadow whispers in his ear, her heart skips when she hears your voice.

His fingers find that pulse point on her wrist and he whispers, “hey there, princess.”

There’s the smallest flutter beneath his finger tips and he could cry. She could hear him at least, she wasn’t locked away from him.

“I could scream,” he says, keeping his voice low, only for her to hear, “could scream and scream at you for being so reckless, for jumping into the flames head first, for almost getting yourself killed-“

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, “You are not leaving me, not like that, we will get you home safe and sound, but you’re not dying on me, you’re not allowed to do that to me.”

There was something there on the other side of that little string of fate. So he wrapped his hand around it and pulled, ripping it towards him, tying it to his heart.

“Come back,” he begs, “you’ve got to come back.”

He pulls and and pulls and pulls, “Where are you at, princess?”

And there, on the other side of that shadowy string, he feels the faintest tug.

Tag List-

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 , @thisiskaylin , @wolfgirl624 , @khaleesihavilliard , @fluffy-bnny , @mariahoedt , @durgenyx , @glitterypirateduck , @byyalady , @amberlynn98 , @ferrarisbitch , @a-cup-of-nightshade , @breella

[sectumsempraaa]

Let the Right Girl In

Pairing: loser!Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: use of fake/artificial blood and fangs, kissing

Summary: After months of secretly craving your attention, your friend Draco Malfoy finally finds the courage to overcome his crush-driven nerves by inviting you to the Halloween party of the season at Malfoy Manor. What he doesn’t expect is how quickly you turn it into a date at the suggestion of a seriously iconic couple’s costume.

A/N: There are of course some direct quotes and references from “Dracula” in this fic. It’s all very obvious with just a super basic knowledge of the story. No further research necessary :)

.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Move, you bloody oaf!” Draco yells as he shoves a third year Gryffindor into the nearest wall, hastily making his way down the corridor to Transfiguration class. Any class he shares with you is his favorite, but today is different. Today he’s extra eager to arrive early to grab a seat next to you.

Usually he waits outside the classroom until you’re about 10 feet away, stealing you away from whoever holds your attention at that moment. His confidence glows, but underneath are a thousand nerves, each one sparking like fireworks when you arrive.

Most people can’t get under Draco’s skin, but you aren’t most people. This boy has had eyes for you longer than he’d like to admit, and he’s spent each day of it absolutely craving your attention. In fact, it’s become sort of a game for him. Devising ways to bump into you, manipulating teachers to partner you on projects, whatever it takes to get even just a glint of eye contact, a brushing touch, or a subtle laugh from you.

And the fact is, none of it is for show. The payoff for him is the prolonged, palpable thrill that lingers from even just a fleeting moment with you.

Draco’s parents have decided to host a lavish Halloween party at the manor this year and the minute he caught wind of it, he was dead set on you attending. Hundreds of fancy invites have been created already, yours being the first delivered, of course.

McGonagall gives Draco a curious eye, suspicious of his unusual timeliness. “Class is not yet in session, Mr. Malf-” she stops abruptly, her attention turning to you in the doorway. She looks between the two of you, a knowing smile grows on her face as Draco’s unwavering stare follows your every step. He couldn’t blink if he tried.

“Hi, Draco” you greet him in your soft, bright voice. The sound of his name on your tongue sends a jolt of adrenaline through him, struggling to produce a coherent response.

“Precious, precious Y/L/N,” he responds, his heart quickening as you set your books down next to his own on your desk. He swallows, trying especially hard to maintain his cool facade. “Feel like being neighbors today then?”

You sit down next to him, smoothing your skirt out underneath you while doing so. You scan him up and down, making him wonder… are you… checking him out right now?

“Hmm, well I always did have a thing for the boy next door.” You joke, nudging him with an elbow. Your response alone is enough to break his brain, enough that he has to tell himself you were just playing around. He readjusts his focus, reminding himself of the task at hand.

“Then I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult for you to find your way over, then?” he asks, extracting the invitation from inside his robe and presenting it to you, your intrigued features quickly relaxing into an excited grin.

The way your hand grazes his while accepting the card could have added years to his life. His gaze worships you, morphing into tunnel vision the longer you inspect the invitation. Your eyes note the black and orange borders and the lovely cursive handwriting that could only belong to Narcissa.

You look up to him, his breath still as he awaits your answer, the anticipation rendering his mind blank.

“Do we get to wear costumes? Or is this one of those classic Malfoy functions that requires classic Malfoy attire?” You inquire, each word drenched in playfulness.

He fucking loves riffing with you and pushing each other’s buttons. As long as you’re talking to him, it doesn’t matter. You could be publicly berating him and he would relish every single second.

“Costumes required, actually. But that won’t be hard for someone who already resembles an angel,” he says, resting his temple on a fist. To this, you break into a fit of laughter. He can’t help but notice the rosy hue developing on your cheeks, the way your eyes crinkle and your nose scrunches.

“An angel?! How positively daft,” you tease, shaking your head. He could have sworn you started to reach for him in your bout of giggling. “No, I’ve got a killer idea.”

He is just dying to know what you have in mind, his thoughts swimming with fantasies of you in his home, all dressed up. But it is quickly cut off by a room full of loud students and a yelling McGonagall, a sigh of frustration emitting from him. He’ll spend the rest of class imagining you in a range of costumes- cat, inmate… bride? Yeah, that’s his favorite one.

He watches you slip the invitation behind the cover of your textbook for protection. You throw him a wink, and it damn nearly kills him.

—

Not a day goes by where he isn’t secretly praying to fast forward to Halloween. Countless times now he’s imagined you meeting his parents, introducing them to his most favorite person. That is, until today.

Lately, Draco’s been deprived of your attention, shying away from fear of bothering you. Honestly, he is still recovering from his flirtatious interaction with you in McGonagall’s class, repeating and analyzing every sentence in his head over and over.

As he’s walking into the Great Hall for breakfast, he approaches the table and notices a book lying where he normally sits. Probably some delinquent student forgetting their belongings behind.

But as he gets closer, he’s hit by a wall of your perfume, a mist of orange blossoms and vanilla filling his senses, indicating your very recent presence. The fragrance causes him to look around for you, a burst of butterflies erupting in his chest as he finds your stare already on him from a few tables over.

You nod in the direction of the book at his place setting, urging him to take a peak. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hard to break away from your entrancing eye contact, the boy desperate to keep your gaze on him as long as possible.

He manages to glance down, expecting a textbook or something he’s already read. Instead he reads the title aloud, his Slytherin friends listening in as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Drac-ula? What is Dracula?” he asks to no one in particular, a hint of attitude in his voice. Pansy giggles, being in on your idea previously. She reaches across the table and opens the cover for him.

“It’s a famous muggle story, you git. A bloody good one, you could say.” She and Blaise smirk to each other in pride of her pun, but it earns no response from Draco. She turns the page for him again, this time revealing an illustration of the pale man with his fangs sunk into the neck of his damsel-like counterpart.

Draco’s eyes grow wide, the realization finally settling in. He jumps as you suddenly appear behind him, talking over his shoulder on your tippy toes with your hands on each of his upper arms.

“You already have half his name, and his personality,” you start, huffing a laugh to yourself. His eyes still linger on the drawing as he turns slightly towards you. “I figured you’d be perfect for the part.”

“And you?” he asks with genuine curiosity, his voice just barely shaking, his features softening at the sight of you. You caught him by surprise and now he’s a melting mess, your glow slowly hypnotizing him.

“Darling, we’re both in that picture.” You respond, throwing him another wink and a playful hiss before walking away with your friends. His brain can barely register this information, requiring a minute to fully process your idea.

Theo pokes fun at Draco as the gang gets up to leave for class. “Dear god, I’ve never seen it this bad. It’s like we’re not even here!” He sneers, snapping his fingers in front of Draco’s face, but to no avail.

Draco whispers to himself while scanning the illustration again, unaware that his housemates are in listening proximity. “It’s a couples costume. She wants to do a couple’s costume… with me.” A small smile forms on his face in the aftermath of your conversation.

“You ought to save that devilish smirk for your upcoming role,” Pansy jokes. He stows the book away in his bag and decides to skip his first class, opting to read the book that made you think of him, instead.

—

Draco stands utterly still, completely in awe, taking a mental picture of the image before him: you, sitting on his bed in his home. His actual real life home. He’s not sure if it’s disbelief or amazement or general arousal but it’s safe to say there’s a healthy mix of each.

You had brought over everything the two of you would need for your costumes, the nature of yours nearly sending him over the edge already. Normally, he’s praying for just a glimpse in his direction in class, but today, there’s no one else here to distract you from him.

“Come here, lovey,” you say, coaxing him over to you as you lay out the makeup and supplies on a small bedside table. He nearly falls over at the nickname, attempting to build his cold walls back up, but the blush on his cheeks says otherwise.

He sits on the edge of his bed facing you, and you notice how unusually quiet he’s been since your arrival. It’s hard for you to imagine the Draco Malfoy being… anxious?

You approach him, leaning slightly between his legs to get a better vantage point of his face. It takes every fiber of his being not to glance down to your cleavage, the Victorian style dress you’re wearing putting it on full display.

You run a hand through his hair, admiring his features as he looks up at you with eyes full of pure adoration. A slight pause has you realizing how truly weird this is- the coldest boy in school, the Slytherin prince himself, inviting you over to the privacy of his house, giving you the grand tour, letting you set up shop in his childhood bedroom.

Most people aren’t even granted permission to speak to him, and yet here you are, finally coming to the conclusion that… you really aren’t ‘most people.’

He let you in.

“Open your mouth, boy.” Your voice sultry, a teasing smile adorning your face as you place a hand under his chin, holding it in place. His body could ignite right now with how hot his skin is from your touch. He’s not sure he was ever prepared for this level of intimacy with you.

He parts his lips, granting you access inside. Suddenly, your fingers are in his mouth, working on attaching a set of fangs to his teeth. Is this real? Is this happening? How are you so comfortable right now while he’s silently screaming inside at your mere presence?

The limits of his self control are being brutally tested, something he didn’t foresee being an issue today. Electricity shoots through his body as the taste of you grazes his tongue. You can’t help but notice how perfect his lips are, how soft and supple they seem.

Your eyes go wide as the fangs click into place, something wild sparking within your stare. He notices and gives you a look tinged with intrigue.

“This may have been a very bad idea,” you joke, a hint of bashfulness lacing your words. “I didn’t realize you’d make such a handsome vampire.”

His grin grows instantly, his confidence rising ever so slightly as you share your vulnerability. His eyes still shine up at you with sheer infatuation as your posture caves in a bit, bringing your faces closer together.

It’s quiet for a moment as he lets you take him in. The weight of his kindness, openness, and hospitality is all starting to make sense. On top of that, there’s something quite serene about seeing him in this environment, one where he’s fully himself. The volume of your voice lowers to a shadow of a whisper as your hands clasp behind his neck.

“I need you to do me a favor, Draco.” It is incredibly difficult to keep his focus on anything but your lips and how little distance there is to his own. But he’ll do anything he can to keep his chance with you alive and well.

“Anything, doll.” He responds, sitting up straighter.

You reach for an item on the table and place it in his hand, his head barely registering anything outside his immediate concentration on you.

“I need you to make me your Mina.” His heart nearly explodes at the request, his every desire begging him to crush his lips onto yours. He looks from the illustration in the open book on the table down to the container of fake blood in his palm, a smirk thrown your way as he understands what’s coming next.

A hand on your waist catches you by surprise, the pressure guiding you to sit down on his thigh. Before you know it, he’s the one towering over you now, his arm secured around your waist to keep you balanced on his lap.

Don’t be fooled, he is still absolutely racked with nerves. But the girl of his dreams is sitting on his lap, and god damnit if he’s going to let this opportunity pass without making the most of it. He can be brave for you.

His hand makes its way towards you, the deep red substance dripping onto your dress. Your hand finds his back, gripping the material of his white ruffled shirt tightly in your fist. “Tilt,” he requests, needing more access to your neck. You do as asked, resting your head on his shoulder to expose more skin.

He wasn’t expecting you to do this, but god he’ll take it. In a swift motion, he lifts your legs over both his thighs now, giving you both maximum stability. The breath from your small laugh into the crook of his neck gives him chills, his eyes closing for a moment to relish it.

The hand around your waist lifts higher to gather your hair, laying it neatly behind your shoulders. The next thing you feel are his fingers dragging their way across the side of your neck, painting your skin with care and intention. Each stroke makes its way lower and lower towards your chest, the thumping of your heart picking up each time you feel him slide over you.

“Mind if I…?” Draco prompts, gesturing the packet of fake blood itself to your neck. “I’m feeling quite committed to the theatrics.” To this, he earns a joking eye roll of approval from you.

You adjust yourself on his lap, causing his hand to slip down around your hips. Whatever it takes to just keep you here forever seems necessary to him. His heart may be racing, his muscles aching from making sure you’re comfortable, but this is all he’s ever wanted.

You are all he’s ever wanted.

You feel the red liquid cascade down your neck to your chest, seeping into your cleavage, some of it staining the bodice of your dress. Just enough to make it look like a real vampire bite, without being excessive.

“You know,” you breathe, lifting your head to meet his stare, your noses practically touching. “There is one way we could make this… really convincing.”

Draco searches your eyes and for the first time, he finds the same unfiltered longing staring back at him. A needy, pulling desire fills the remaining space left between you. Your hand finds its way to the base of his neck, a slight pressure not unlike the one he used on you before.

“If… if you want, I mean.” Your bit of embarrassment lingers on your cheeks. He smiles, repeating his sentiment from earlier while his hand snakes its way underneath your knees, pulling you even closer to him.

“Anything, doll.” He replies, and this time you know he means it in every sense of the word.

Your hand applies the same pressure again, guiding his face to your neck, and from here he needs no further instruction. You feel the soft yet hungry impact of his lips on your neck, sucking on your skin lightly, his eyes closed as the vampire himself does what he does best.

A sigh escapes you, your fingers curling in his hair as his tongue enters the mix. His movements become more fervent as your response intensifies with each kiss. You let out a tiny yelp as you feel the fangs poke your skin, a mix of pain and pleasure enveloping you as his laugh graces your neck.

He quickly pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. “Sorry, love. Got a bit too into character there, didn’t I?” He winks, his head spinning from it all. You glance down to the mess of red displayed on his chin, admiring the work of art.

“No, it was perfect. You’re a spitting image.” You state, nodding to the book’s visual aid you were using to create this look. You both giggle, observing each other up close.

“And you, my Mina.” Draco tucks a stray hair behind your ear, beckoning you to him again. As the fake blood dries on his skin, he takes one last look in your eyes before you decide to be equally dedicated to your role. Your voice lowers to a mutter, your breath entwining with his.

“I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips.” He pulls back at the phrase, the realization hitting him like a vivid flashback.

“Chapter three.” He declares, earning a dropped jaw from you. He really read the damn book.

Within seconds, your lips are on his, his response having won your swelling heart. His hands travel around your waist, exploring every inch of you. His whole world seemingly shatters and mends itself as you get lost in each other.

Your lips dance together in a passionate, breathtaking crescendo. Your tongue slides in, claiming his mouth as his hand lifts up to cup and support your cheek. The urgency calms, settling back into a gentle, tender kiss. A kiss so painfully soft, it acts more as an expression of his intentions with you, pointing to a time where this was all but a day dream to him.

“Shall we?” He asks, gesturing his head towards the door. You smile, reaching for the last bit of his costume: a black velvet cape. You lay it around him, snapping the clasps together in the front.

He dives in for one last kiss, tugging your lower lip with his fictitious fangs, causing your hands to land on his chest.

“You know, I think I’m rather fond of these.” He says as he helps you off his lap back to your feet. He scans you up and down, drinking you in.

“Our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would beg to differ.” You joke, letting him spin you around, hooking an arm through his as you walk to the top of the stairs that lead down to the main hall.

You two make your way down the stairs, the guests turning in your direction in awe as cameras flash and fingers point at the prestigious Malfoy son and the beautiful girl on his arm. Draco stops abruptly on the last stair, giving you a blank, anticipatory look.

“What’s wrong, dear?” You whisper, a shadow of worry following your voice.

“You have to invite me in.” To this, you can barely control your immediate bout of laughter, your hold on him growing tighter the harder you laugh.

When you both finally come down, you release your arm from his, stepping in front of him. The crowd went eerily silent, enticed by your dramatic entrance.

Your black-gloved hand reaches out to his as you both put on a show for the entranced guests. He takes it and kisses the back of your hand, a small smirk displayed for your eyes only.

You oblige to his request, the pitch of your voice lying somewhere between innocence and a dark, desirable knowing.

“Enter freely, and of your own free will, my darling.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[bitterchocoo]

Alice in Wonderland

----------

"Once upon a time...."

----------

The first Alice walked through the land of Teyvat. Bravely with a sword in her hand, she sliced everything and anything that dared crossed her, leaving chaos in her red bloody path. She was feared and respected by all.

The people will remember her wrath, her cruel smile, her self-centered attitude, and most importantly the sword on her hand.

Who could ever forget someone like that? Someone who sparks fear on others? The very mention of her name brought the high and mighty shaking on their knees. Everyone would always try their absolute best to stay on her good side or else... her sword would be the last thing you'll see. They would praise her, give her offerings and gifts, the lengths of what they would do to stay on her good side...

Through her might and unyielding wrath, she traveled far through her journey. But soon... her wrong doings came right back at her..

She stray too far and lost her way. Giving in to all her sins. Much like the gruesome path that she forged with her hands. Still....

Her life remains a mystery till this very day.

.

.

.

.

.

The second Alice was a tame and tender gentleman.

He helped those in need, he never lost his temper, he never talked bad about others, he's incredibly patient; a kind soul.

Such an enormous contrast with the first Alice.

The people would remember his kindness, his merciful acts, his pacifist route. In return for his deeds they would give him something in return despite how the man seemed uncertain of the gifts, claiming that "there's no need for such things."

What a kind soul... he can't even take a gift without feeling conflicted and guilty...

But of course.... you can't be kind to all.... sometimes kindness and mercy isn't the option...

Madness took ahold of him, shoot him dead to the ground. Blood stained the roses to a bright and somber red. Once loved and enjoyed by all, the man was left for dead

.

.

.

.

.

The third Alice was a lovely girl.

Beautiful, the girl was born into a life so grand. She charmed all the people to her beck and call. How could they resist such a charming young lady? Her smile is as bright as the sun, and her beauty rivals those of a goddess.

Through her charms she created a kingdom, an empire that would rise above them all! This Alice was then crowned turned into a Queen. Ruling all the people there... she lost herself in a crazy dream..

Previously a carefree girl, suddenly has the weight of a whole kingdom on her shoulders.. she must have gone insane by the sudden shift in power and responsibilities. Suddenly she's been made all aware of the things that didn't crossed her mind since the beginning. So afraid of death, the girl was mindless and warped.

The people would remember her beauty and charm.

Once a gorgeous ruler, now she's just an ugly corpse.

.

.

.

.

.

"So... what do you think?"

"...."

"What's with the silence, Alice?"

The man studied the other's expression before letting out a chuckle as he understood what he's thinking at that very moment. It was rather obvious. "Maybe I should start the next one~?"

"The fourth Alice was a pair of siblings who are twins. Straying into Teyvat—" "Shut up."

The man stopped as he glanced back at the man who stopped him with his story. "Oh? You don't want your story to be told? Your name echoes in their tales and songs?"

"You're telling a story of the past... this is not the past.. I—we—"

"Oh ho ho! Don't get ahead of yourself there, Alice~ You've fallen into this wonderland called Teyvat for how long now? 500 years? And now you're saying that? Don't make me laugh!"

"You two are staying here."

"Until we the Heavenly Principle say so."

"Until I say so."

----------

M. Reader as the Creator

.

.

.

.

.

"Now... how will your story end, Alice~?"

----------

[shadowsandjasmine]

———

i’ll be honest. i never thought they’d get to the point of calling us anti-azriel for shipping him with the woman that he canonically wants to be with. so let’s dissect that a bit!

(i’m not going to even bother with the “his shadows hide from elain which is bad!!” take because at this point it’s obvious that is willful misinterpretation and we’ve beaten that dead horse long enough, i think.)

but let’s go through this point by point;

“want him with someone who has seen his darkness and can accept it”

did i miss the part where gw*n sees his darkness and accepts it? or where she really sees anything of him at all, especially when it feels like it’s pulling teeth for her to get him to open up to her in the first place?

Elain, on the other hand;

She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them.

But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once.

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.”

interesting, that she does not balk from him and even finds the scars on his hands from his childhood to be beautiful.

let’s not forget him giving her truth teller to defend herself with;

Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

doesn’t seem like she’s scared of him and his darkness at all in this scene, even when presented with his shadows and his weapon of choice while on a battlefield.

on to the next point

“someone who makes him feel relaxation and joy”

aww, this one’s easy!

“Az, this one’s for you.”

“Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.”

“I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.”

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.

Elain smiled again, ducking her head.

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

seems pretty joyous to me!

another one;

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading.

how lovely and relaxing!

as for the last part;

“someone who sparks goodness in his heart”

while i would argue my previous examples show her sparking goodness in his heart, that’s more my opinion/interpretation rather than irrefutable fact. i’m going to take a guess this is in reference to that lil spark he feels in the bonus chapter, and while i disagree and interpret it differently i don’t mind giving this one a pass (even though it’s under pretty suspicious circumstances, i don’t mind letting y’all have this one, even though it still doesn’t make sense pertaining to gw*nriel, because it’s about the only thing y’all have going for this ship at this point.)

all this is to say; if you’re going to make so bold a claim as to say elriels are anti-azriel for shipping him with the woman he wants to be with, at least try to use examples that can’t be directly refuted with canon text from the books, especially when you hardly have any examples for your own ship. it does not help your case.

[theneighbourhoodferret]

I think 100% that laios would believed the lie that fem reader told him as a joke as shes taking off a face mask that once a month after a woman has her period that they shed and naturally he asked a lot questions.

(Sorry if a lot of characters seem occ and the ending is a bit rushed but I wanted to write this before I forgot about it but another then that enjoy)

“So like a lizard?” Laios enquired

Without thinking and forgetting how Laios takes a lot of things at face value “yes” she response in what she thought was an obvious joking tone.

So for months, yes for 8 months to be exact

Thinking it was an inside joke between them so she thought nothing of it until one fateful night at one of the groups dnd sessions well their were in the middle of a break to re full drinks and stretch their legs after sitting for hours Laios was ranting about monsters until the subject lizards were brought up.

“Like lizards are so fascinating like did you know some species of lizard can shed 15 times in its lifetime, also apparently according to y/n women can also shed their skin every month like lizards isn’t that cool!” He enthusiastically proclaims not knowing chaos that will be erupt from that single statement.

Course the woman in question wasn’t there to hear this but others like chilchuck, senshi and izutsumi were there to hear this.

“Wait wait wait wait what was that last part about y/n?” The shorter man asked and who was only partly listening to what Laios was talking about until now.

“Yeah isn’t so amazing how women shed like lizards” the Fred jones look like stated without losing the spark in his eyes just before Chilchuck could fully process what he just heard.

The lady of the hour walks in to house after getting some food for the table “I’m here and ready to- oh” she cuts herself off after locking eyes with Chilchuck that has a look of disbelief.

Before she speaks, Chilchuck beat her to it and spoke first “what have been telling him?!”

“That I was going to get food? And I’ll be right back…..? And I’m ready to play?” She said ever so slightly confident on what she was saying.

“No, not that! Laios tell her what you told us just now” Chilchuck shouted while first pointed a finger at Laios then at y/n.

Of course before that could happen Marcille and Falin walked in from the kitchen after getting sodas from the fridge “whats with the sudden yelling?” The pointing eared blonde asked “not right now, Laios say the thing you just told us”.

“That lizards can shed up to 15 times in their lifetime” “no the another thing, the thing y/n told you about women” Chilchuck said while rubbing his two fingers on the bridge of his nose.

Feeling less confident “that women shed once a month like lizards” Laios stated again and his face turning a bit red “yes that, explain?” He said while looking at you “huh?…….oh!! That, I was only joking because I was doing my face mask and as a joke I told Laios women shed once a month after a period” you said finally understanding whats happening.

“Wait you were joking?” Laios said sounding a little disheartened and confused “yeah I thought you knew, I thought it was inside joke we had” you realising you made an error.

Anyways after that misunderstanding and having a good laugh about it afterwards you go back to playing dnd.

~time skip~

“Hold on I told you that 8 months ago and you didn’t think it was a bit weird that I was ‘sheding’ for all those months?” “No but it was a bit strange that you won’t bright red  afterwards tho like most animals that shed” 

You laugh a little “I love you Laios” “wait is this another joke?” “Nope” “oh ok then I love you too y/n”

—————���—————————————————-

Thank you for reading