#she's named after jane austen

[norrizzandpia]

So American (OB38)

Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.

Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)

Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭

Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.

None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.

Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.

She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.

Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.

”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.

Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”

Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.

Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”

Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”

Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”

Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.

He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”

Ollie. That’s cute.

—

That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.

The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.

She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.

And that she did.

Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.

When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.

That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.

“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.

He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.

When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.

—

Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.

Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.

Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”

He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.

She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.

“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.

Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.

A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.

”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”

Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”

”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.

Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”

The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”

Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”

Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”

Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”

In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”

Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”

Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”

She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”

Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”

She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,

As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?

When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.

Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.

—

God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.

Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.

”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”

Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”

Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.

Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”

Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.

The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.

Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”

They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.

—

I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.

Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.

The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.

She nodded, “Of course, baby.”

He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”

Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”

He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.

She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”

He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”

Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.

She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”

Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”

She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”

He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.

She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”

Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”

Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”

He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.

Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”

He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”

She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”

Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”

Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”

There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”

She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”

He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”

She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”

Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”

Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”

He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”

Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.

She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”

Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”

He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”

Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.

When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”

He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.

He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.

It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.

Bloody hell, they were so in love.

[reiderwriter]

✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️

About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac

Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!

Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.

Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!

Writing:

Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K

Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink

Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.

Warnings: So many, check the post for details.

More Than Words 🫶 // 8k

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k

Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.

Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.

Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k

Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.

Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.

Spencer Reid x Reader SFW

The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Just Hanging Out // 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k

Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.

Series

That's What You Get // complete 💕

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.

Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.

Playlist: Me and You in 2024

Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!

Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡

Answered Requests

(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k

(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words

(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words

(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k

(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k

(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k

(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k

(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k

(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k

(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k

(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼‍♀️// 1.8k

(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️‍🔥// 1.6k

(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k

(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ❤️‍🩹// 5k

(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k

(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k

(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵‍♂️// 3.6k

(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k

(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k

(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k

(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k

(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽‍♀️// 2.1k

(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k

(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k

[halemerry]

On Crowley, memory, and identity.

So full disclosure first, I am not someone who is particularly interested in having Crowley's angel name on screen - personally I rather like the idea of never having an answer to this question - but I also do think it's interesting and fun to speculate and we got quite a few hints at this throughout this season soooo

Obviously part of this is that we meet him. The angel that would become Crowley is the first person on screen this season. We confirm a lot about him here. He confirm that he is powerful enough to start the engine of the universe. We confirm that he can control gravity and time and space and light. We confirm that he is the being that says let there be light before the beginning. We also confirm that he consulted with the concept designer of the universe and that he's very comfortable with the idea of questioning authority. We are also given Aziraphale's anxiety as a contrast to this and as proof that that is not a universal trait for early angels.

Now, we have always had evidence that Crowley is powerful. He's done some things that seem impossibly big. He stops time very casually and seemingly without effort - even at the end of season 1 it doesn't even seem to give us the same strain on him that holding the Bentley together does. This is a thing that we only ever see Crowley do and notably a thing that you would think other beings would mess with to their advantage if it was possible. Which means they either literally can't or that it never occurred to them that they could. Or as is becoming increasingly clear: perhaps it's a bit of both.

But that's not the only implication of power we get in season 1 either. We get Crowley seemingly in tune with the universe in a way many angels and demons aren't. Which, makes some sense if he helped make it. This manifests in all sorts of ways. He's constantly aware of Aziraphale's presence. He can smell when the world state changes like when Adam names Dog. He holds the Bentley together through utter destruction. He notices that there are different books in the bookshop - something I always assumed was meant to convey he was familiar with the shop's contents but after learning he didn't even know Jane Austen was a writer I wonder if it's actually more to do with him being in tune with reality. He also can apparently quite literally feel when there are eyes on them.

We're given even more of all these things this season in some really interesting ways. Crowley literally tests the air to check if a miracle has happened - another thing that we don't see anyone else do despite Heaven literally assigning someone to Aziraphale to check for a specific miracle. This particular beat is also something we are shown twice this season. Both here and in 1941, when Furfur uses the miracle blocker on Aziraphale. Here Crowley tests his miracles and despite getting nothing of the sort when Aziraphale tries a miracle literally the beat before this, we are given both a visual and an auditory effect. It ripples out with a watery sound effect from Crowley's finger. It's like he's prodding at reality.

There's also several instances involving the recognition or lack thereof of angels and demons. Crowley feels that the demon army is arriving before it does. Neither side seems to be able to track Gabriel - one of the most powerful beings in existence - at all once he leaves Heaven. We also see countless angels fail to notice Crowley himself both as Bildad the Shuhite performing literal miracles right in front of them. And this happens again as he prances about Heaven after Muriel. Aziraphale can't tell Shax is a demon despite Crowley recognizing she's manifested behind him nearly as soon as he answers the phone. Aziraphale can't even recognize that he himself is still an angel at the end of the Job story.

He also. Quite literally. Brings someone back from the dead???? Like waves a hand casually on the street and reconstitutes Mr. Brown like he'd never been dead at all. Mr. Brown returns with no memory of what happened to him holding a newspaper that seems to have literal bite chunks coming out of it. It's not framed as a huge miracle or anything strenuous either - just a casual snap.

And that's not even getting into the parallels with Gabriel. First of all. We get the color purple. It's purple when Aziraphale and angel that would become Crowley start the engine of the quadrants of the universe and it's purple when they miracle to hide Gabriel. This color is associated with power and, historically in the language of this show, with Gabriel himself. Them using it together twice speaks a lot to the power they have together.

But that's not the only symbolism historically tied to Gabriel that has found its way to Crowley this season either. Most flashy of all is the lightning. This is how we see Gabriel arrive on earth at the end of season one and it is something Crowley apparently just Does when he gets too mad to contain himself.

This alone wouldn't catch my attention except. Except the way Crowley reacts to Gabriel's memory problems is... interesting to say the least. He's angry and understandably so. Part of this is him being mad and protective of Aziraphale - he says as much himself to Jim directly. And yet, weirdly, it's the kind of mad that reminded me of something else.

This is the mad he tends to gets at his plants. Do it properly. Think hard. You can do better than that. Grow better. It's the kind of angry that's steeped in projection. It's he kind of angry that is undercut with the occasional weird undercurrent of understanding. And so much of his dialogue with Jim around this is framed like he does actually understand. Jim says it hurts and he says he knows. Jim starts talking about it feeling like being an empty house that still remembers where the furniture is and Crowley immediately latches onto this and understands ah it's looking at where the furniture isn't.

And there's a few other conversations that center around this issue that I find really interesting from a projection perspective. There's the conversation that happens when Crowley goes to have an alcohol fueled chat with Jim. He says "You're Jim now. Got everything just the way you wanted?" This doesn't make a whole lot of sense for him to be addressing Gabriel with. As far as he knows all Gabriel would want was the end of the world.

And then there's the particular way he asks Jim to eliminate himself in this scene. Climb out the window. In other words, have a fall. Something he pretty immediately retracts and clearly feels guilty about no matter how much he hates Gabriel.

And then there's the first conversation he gets to have after learning about Gabriel. Crowley opens this conversation, thinking out loud. He's staring out, not talking to Az yet and the very first thing out of his mouth is, of all things: "He's going to be okay." A weird start for a statement about Gabriel in itself but then Crowley goes and adds what at it's core is his own trauma narrative to the end with, "We can just take him somewhere and leave him there."

Now the real fun bit: Crowley also has memory issues that are out very prominently on display even as far back as season 1.

He has inconsistent memories of his Fall. The answers he gives us to why he Fell change slightly - even when he's alone with himself. He doesn't seem to understand why exactly he Fell even though he clearly has some vague idea of the pieces in play. I always thought to some degree that this was just a trauma response, but season 2 drew even more attention to this and now that we know that memory alteration is how Heaven handles powerful angels I can't help but to wonder if there's more in play here.

Crowley can't remember Furfur - who he apparently literally fought next to during the war in Heaven. Crowley can't remember building a nebula with Saraqael. Crowley doesn't remember why they decided gravity was a good idea.

But he does remember bits and pieces here and there. He remembers doing some of the starmaking. He remembers how to access clearance locked files. He's missing pieces and also seems to have an understanding that Gabriel's memories ARE in there. Almost like he's done this work on himself before.

This narrative itself is also far more concerned with the angel Crowley was this time around. It teases his rank a few different times. Most notably is him having access the files only available to Dominions and above.

Now angel hierarchy is a bit of a messy area depending on what sources you're using but given Good Omens tendencies in the past we can assume that this leaves us five ranks. Dominion, Throne, Cherub, Seraph, and Archangel.

I might break down why I think Dominion, Throne, and Cherub feel kind of odd to me later if there's interest - now available here - in that but given the current length of this meta I just want to focus on that last one for now.

Crowley was an Archangel is far from a new theory and I've honestly historically had some fairly mixed feelings about it. But the parallels between Jim and Crowley lend some interesting connective tissue to a lot of those theories. And. There's also some interesting camera work and script writing tied to Crowley and that term outside of the scenes about Gabriel's memories specifically.

Firstly, during Crowley's chat with Beelzebub he says it's a big universe with plenty of places for an archangel to hide. Like Alpha Centauri perhaps?

Then we get Aziraphale and Crowley both presenting Hell and Heaven respectively the idea that it could have been them that did the archangel class miracle. Aziraphale gets scoffed at and yet. Shax is the one who says the miracle was archangel level and Crowley's response is "how do you know I didn't do it?"

Then later as she's prowling about the shop we get this interesting shot of Crowley in the doorframe and Jim in the background. Crowley grins and offers to let Shax look in and see if she can see any archangels in there while he's framed dead center and Jim himself is blurry in the back of the frame.

And most fascinating in my opinion is this shot that happens when Crowley and Muriel are accessing the classified files. Nearly every shot in this sequence is group shots or shots of Gabriel. The camera is focused in the plot and the way the archangels function as a group and on Gabriel himself. But we get one single shot in this entire sequence of Crowley by himself and it is immediately following Gabriel saying "I am the only first order archangel in the room - or, well, the universe."

And then in the end. We get the Metatron who goes out of his way to avoid using Crowley's name. He calls him demon (and insists correctly that Crowley would recognize him even when Michael doesn't) or refers to him as Aziraphale's friend. He only ever uses that name when trying to use him as a bribe for Aziraphale. That combined with the dark look he gives Crowley implies a familiarity that only the Metatron has with him.

So who is he then? There's plenty of old meta out there about why certain archangels fit or don't and I won't reiterate them here. They're interesting and definitely worth poking around at and very fun to read! Personally I'm not as interested in naming the someone he used to be as I am in examining the places that ghost of this angel has started to poke through the narrative so I'll end this here. It's spiralled into something far longer than I ever meant it to be anyway.

[princesssarisa]

Pride and Prejudice adaptations with a modern setting – e.g. The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Bride and Prejudice, Pride and Prejudice: A Latter-Day Comedy, Fire Island – seem to almost always save Lydia from Wickham in the end. Either Darcy stops the elopement, or the elopement is replaced with an online sex tape which is taken down. Wickham is either arrested or at least left behind permanently, and Lydia learns a lesson and gets a happy ending. Neither she nor the other characters have to live with her mistake for the rest of their lives the way they do in the original.

I've just been rereading several people's posts on this subject, and about Lydia's portrayal in general, which show some very different opinions about it all.

Of course, part of the issue is that in a modern setting, it's much easier to save Lydia. In most of the modern Western world, a teenage girl running off with a 30-year-old man would result in the man being arrested, not in their needing to get married to save both the girl's reputation and her whole family's. And even if they did get married, divorce is an option.

But I suspect the bigger issue is that Austen's original ending is considered cruel, unfair, and a product of outdated morals.

People view Austen as punishing Lydia for being a "bad girl" by leaving her trapped in a loveless marriage to a worthless man and always living on the edge of poverty, when by modern standards, she's guilty only of teenage foolishness. They accuse Austen of "making an example" of Lydia to teach young female readers how to behave, in contrast to the virtuous, well-behaved Elizabeth and Jane with their happy endings, and they call it anti-feminist.

Not only is Lydia's marriage bleak for her, it slightly mars Elizabeth and Darcy's happy ending too, as well as Jane and Bingley's. It means Wickham will always be a part of their lives, and for Lydia's sake, they're forced to treat him as a family member. Darcy is forced to financially assist his worst enemy – though at least he draws the line by not letting Wickham visit Pemberley – and even Jane and Bingley's patience is worn thin by the long periods of time Wickham and Lydia stay with them.

By modern standards of romantic comedy, this isn't normal. The heroine, the hero, and all their family and friends are expected to live entirely "happily ever after," while the antagonist – especially if he's a womanizer who preys on teenage girls – is expected to be punished, then never heard from again.

But of course, Austen didn't write simple romantic comedy. Her work was social commentary. Lydia's ending arguably isn't a punishment, but simply the only way her story could end without disgracing her or killing her off, and it arguably it serves less to condemn Lydia herself than to condemn the society that lets men like Wickham get away with preying on naïve young girls and forces their victims to marry them or else be disgraced forever. It also condemns the type of bad parenting that leads to Lydia's mistake. Lydia is the product of her upbringing, after all: between Mrs. Bennet's spoiling and Mr. Bennet's neglect, she's never had any decent parental guidance or protection. And our heroines, Elizabeth and Jane, both pity their sister and regret that marriage to Wickham is the only way to save her honor. No sympathetic character ever says she deserves it.

The fact that Lydia is trapped in a bad marriage, and that Wickham does go unpunished and the other characters will always have to tolerate him and even cater to him for Lydia's sake, arguably drives home Austen's social criticism. The fact that it adds bittersweetness to the otherwise blissfully happy ending is arguably part of the point. If we change it just to create a happier ending, or in the name of "feminism" and "justice for Lydia," doesn't that dilute the message?

Then there's the fact that by the standards of Austen's era, Lydia's ending is remarkably happy. She doesn't die, or end up abandoned and forced into sex work or a life of seclusion. Nor, despite Mr. Collins' recommendation, does her family cut ties with her: the ending reveals that Jane and Elizabeth regularly welcome her into their homes, and Elizabeth "frequently" sends her money. Other authors would have punished her much more severely.

But of course, that was a different time. While in Austen's original context, Lydia's fate might seem fairly happy and lenient, by modern standards it seems more cruel. And since most of the modern retellings that change her fate are screen adaptations, not books, maybe the difference in art form further justifies the change. I'm thinking of that post I recently reblogged, which argued that some of Austen's more "merciless" plot points would seem darker on film than in print, and therefore tend to be softened in adaptations.

So how should a modernized adaptation handle Lydia's ending? Is it better and more progressive when they save her from Wickham? Or for the sake of social commentary and retaining Austen's sharp edges, should the writers follow the book and find a way (not necessarily marriage to Wickham, but some modern equivalent) for her mistake to leave her trapped in a less-than-happy life, and add a slight bittersweet note to the other characters' endings too?

I think a case can be made for both choices and I'd like to know other people's viewpoints.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Yes, Mr. Darcy

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1784

cw: anxiety, swearing, fluff

a/n: been in such a Harrington Mood Lately.

“Y/N  Y/M/N  Y/L/N, for the love of god, we need to leave. Now.”

You were standing in front of her mirror, changing out your earrings for the third time. Nothing seemed to match quite right, but these seemed to do the trick. 

“You did not just use my full name, Buckley.”  

“You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago.”

“You and I both know that we’re actually leaving on time, and you tried to trick me so we could just get there earlier so you could get there to hang out with Steve.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms–silent though.

“And she doesn’t deny it.” 

“Oh fuck off.” 

She was just lounging on the couch, head hanging off the side, and one leg over the back. The sound of your heels alerted Robin that you were finally done. She looked up from her phone and her jaw dropped. 

“Shut. Up.”

“What do you think?” 

“I think you’re gonna kill Steve, babe.” 

You smiled. “Good.” 

“Now let’s get a move on because, again, we were supposed to be on our way by now.”

Robin hopped up from the couch and smoothed out her pants legs, trying to desperately combat the wrinkles she just creased in them. 

“You’re too tall in those shoes.” 

You gently shoved Robin's arm as you pulled on your overcoat. 

“Let's head out then?” 

___________________________________

“Steve, let’s get a move on.” 

Steve walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer, where his friends were pacing around, waiting for him. He was fiddling with the gold watch around his wrist–it just wasn't sitting right on his wrist. Why wasn’t the watch sitting in the right place? 

“Oh be still my beating heart.” Eddie clutches his heart and turns to face his best friend. “You look so handsome.” 

Dustin shoves Eddie and rolls his eyes. “We’ve been waiting forever.” 

He gave them a flash of a smile before adjusting the signet ring on his pinky finger, twisting it around and around and around and around and arou—

“Max, Lucas, Will, and Mike are there already, with Nance and Jonathan.” 

Steve huffed and fixed his hair.

Eddie reached forward and picked some lint off of his collar. 

“You seem nervous."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh do I?"

"Alright Jackass, ease up." Eddie crossed his arms. "There's nothing to worry about."

Dustin nodded in agreement vigorously. "There's quite literally no universe in which she says no Steve-"

“Alright. Alright." Steve waved the two of them off nervously. "Let’s go then.” 

___________________________________

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you”

You whipped your head around, before smiling at the man behind you. “Did…Did you just use Jane Austen as a pickup line?”

“Would you be mad that I did?” 

“No, No, I quite….I enjoyed it”

Steve laughed to himself and took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and softly kissing it. 

Cheeks tinging red; this man still knew how to make you blush after four years of being together. 

“You are too much Steve Harrington, simply too much” 

“Too much in general, or too much for you Miss Y/l/n because–”

Your lips were on his before he could even comprehend the rest of his thought. 

“I didn’t even know you knew who Jane Austen was..” Slowly moving from his lips and up his cheek,, kissing the corner of his lips, you hummed. Steve inhaled, snaking an arm around your waist. 

“I listen to you, ya know…” he murmured, praying to whatever god was listening that he would be able to keep quiet. His eyes darted around, making sure that no one in the banquet hall was paying attention to the twenty-three-year-olds in the corner. 

Even though everyone was there as a potential surprise engagement party disguised as a holiday party. 

The massive Christmas Tree in the front of the room caught Steve’s eye. It was perfectly decorated, just like the rest of the room–nothing out of place. The perfectly placed white string lights reflected across the room, across their families. Their picturesque perfect families danced slowly across the dance floor.

Your lips kissed the spot beneath his ear, causing Steve to groan quietly, and squeeze your waist. 

“Babygirl….” Steve mumbled, “Not in front of the whole party. Behav–”

A smirk passed across your lips as you pulled away. “I’m so sorry handsome, it’s just that when you quote one of my favorite novels at me….” 

“Yeah, Yeah. let me fix your lipstick baby” Steve slowly dragged his thumb under your lip, effectively fixing the smudging on her lips, edging the line that you clearly want to shove him over.

“Want to dance with me, darling?”

You smiled and nodded, slotting your hand in his. 

He squeezed it tightly as he caught your friends looking over at the two of you, with expectant faces. Steve tried so hard to communicate “not yet” with his face without you noticing. 

That was not the case since you stopped short. 

“Babygirl, what’s up.” 

“What was that look?” 

“What?” 

“The look Eddie and Dustin just gave you.” 

He scoffed, his chest starting to tighten up. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“You’re up to something.” 

His chest ache spread across his shoulders and down his arms. “No.”

You take a small step back and look over his face. 

Your face shifts from curiosity to concern as Steve’s eyes become panicked. 

Unfortunately for Steve, he completely misread the look on your face. 

It started small, with some erratic breathing. For some reason, he couldn’t breathe. Then, he couldn’t focus. The longer you looked at him, the heavier the little box in his right pants pocket got. 

Steve was freaking the fuck out. It was as clear as day to you, even in the dim lighting. He was sure you were trying to say something because your lips were moving and your other hand had moved up to his arm. 

But Steve couldn’t hear anything beyond his heartbeat.

“Steve, is everything okay? Do you want to go out and get some air?” You gently cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down, trying to get a sense of what was going on. Steve rarely acted like this, and as your eyes flashed across his face, searching for an answer, you couldn’t find it.

His feet have not stopped shifting since you started looking at him.

“Steve?” 

He couldn’t take it. 

“Hey Steve, Baby–”

The string lights started to become too bright for him. 

“Steve.”

The world was spinning.

“Hey–”

Was everyone staring at him? Why was everyone looking at him? He needed to escape. He needed to get out of the suffocation. It was too much.

So when he shoved past you and tore out of the hall, you were beyond stunned. So were all of your friends and family who managed to notice the little scene in the corner.

But he didn’t notice because he couldn’t breathe and he needed air as soon as physically possible. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Your eyes flitted between where Steve exited and Robin walked towards you, still shocked. “I don’t…I don't know what happened Rob—I’ll be..” You started to follow him. “I have to..” 

“Did he..?”

“Did he do what?” You looked back at him. 

“Did he start…”

“Panicking for no reason? Yeah.”

Robin just nodded her head as you placed a hand on her arm and muttered something about Steve, following out after him. You missed the way all of your friends started catastrophizing. 

Snowflakes dusted his hair as Steve stepped into the parking lot. His footprints left a cartoonish path as he created a circle in the new snow on the ground, pacing around. The little box in his pocket was getting heavier and heavier until he couldn’t bear it anymore. 

Steve pulled it out, and stared at it; his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. Why wouldn’t they just stop shaking? 

“I thought we agreed on you quitting?” 

The box fell to the ground as he jumped. “Jesus– you can’t just sneak up on me like that.” 

“Yeah, well you kind of just….you know, ran off.” 

“Shi–Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m just. I needed some–uh, air”

“Yeah Steve, I know. You started hyperventilating.” 

Steve nodded but didn’t say anything else.

You slowly started walking towards him, stopping right before the cover of the building ended. She was right in front of him, he could feel her body’s warmth. Steve just studied her face, watching as she watched him. 

“I love you, you know that…”

A nervous laugh passed through your lips. 

“B-But you know right?” 

“Steve….”

“I promise I’m…”

“You’re not smoking?”

“Yeah...” A dry chuckle came out of his mouth. “Have a little faith in me, god.”

“Steve I–You just froze up and ran out of there–It looked like—”

“I know what it looked like.” He snapped. 

“Tone.” 

Steve huffed and ran his hands through his hair, making it more of a mess than it had been. “I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, what is going on?” 

“This is not how I wanted this to go?”

“What are you tal–”

Steve bent down on one knee and pulled the box out of the snowbank right next to his foot, trying to dust off the snow on it. It was a deep red velvet, and on the inside was a beautiful silver band–simple, with three distinguished, yet tastefully small gemstones encrusted in it.

“Y/n–”

“Yes.”

“Y/n, please–” He laughed nervously, “P-Please let me get through…I’ve been, um–”

“–Yes—Shit, sorry. Sorry.”

She placed her hands over her mouth, using every muscle in her body to restrain from interrupting Steve. It wasn’t working very well since she was nodding the whole time. 

“Y/n, I–we, we have known each other f-for so long, an-and I—fuck. Why can’t I get through this?” 

Y/n grabbed his hands and pulled him up off the ground, tears waiting to burst. 

“Steve…”

“No, I–fuck I had this whole fucking speech and I-I can’t even–” He started pacing again, ring box in his hand. “I’m ruining it. I’m ruining your proposal and I just–” 

“Steve Harrington, will you do me the absolute honor of being my husband.” 

Steve froze. 

“W-What” 

And he slowly turned to look at her. 

Y/n had taken out a small box from inside the pocket of her dress. She was holding it in her palm, open. It was a soft green velvet box with a simple silver band, engraved with a barely noticeable design on the top–it matched her ring perfectly. 

His lips crashed to hers, ring boxes precariously held in one another’s hands.

“You stole my moment.” He muttered against her lips, before pulling away. 

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

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taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles @hardlystrictlystarwars @migueloharastruelove @fruityfucker @kingtwhiddleston

Chapter six: stupidity and insensibility

series

You’re an idiot. 

And a failure.

Some would suggest a mixture of both.

Following your shift, you went straight back to your dorm room, not bothering to hang out on campus for any moment longer. A benefit of studying the fine craft of English Literature is that you have plenty of independent study hours, a little more than the average college student. Of course, this time should be spent reading, planning and writing essays for your upcoming assignments, but you barely make it down the first page of a Jane Austen novel without bursting into tears.

Ever since your conversation, Miguel’s words repeatedly ring in your ear. His tone and his judgemental facial expression are permanently indented in your mind. 

‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage for once?’

As much as you hate the guy you can’t help but agree with him. What the fuck did you expect to happen when you set up the advert for his car? That he would get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness? Of course not. 

You’re planning to head straight underneath your covers,  ready to cry yourself to sleep for the rest of the day when you hear your phone vibrate from the bottom of your bag. After delving through numerous books, notepads, wasted receipts and tissues do you finally find it. And your stomach drops once you see the caller ID.

‘Mom’

And that was just what you needed to make you cry harder. 

Sobbing, you collapse to the floor, your mind and body completely frustrated with yourself. If you could dig a deep hole to bury yourself into, you would. If you could press a button to get yourself off this cursed planet, you would. If you could just have the chance to not fuck up your life for one, single second…you would take in a heartbeat.

Midway through your breakdown, a  knock was heard at your door. Soon followed by the sound of your roommate calling out your name. Your sobs come to a halt, a hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

And if you could magically turn invisible to spare you from the embarrassment of your roommate catching you having a breakdown on your bedroom floor, you most definitely would.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t reply, frowning at the sound of her voice. 

You thought that Lyla was out today, it’s past midday and you assumed that she was out on campus. To be fair, you didn’t really pay attention to your surroundings once you walked into the apartment. You were much too preoccupied in getting to your room before your emotions had gotten the better of you.

“Can I come in?”

You make no reply again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel a migraine begin as a result of your crying.

“Please?” Her voice is muffled from the outside. “I want to help you.”

Her tone is soft, not like the usual ring of playfulness and teasing. You’ve only known her for a little over a month but you can tell that she’s being genuine. 

Making it to your feet, you walk over to the door and allow yourself to let her in. To allow yourself to be seen by your roommate with makeup running down your cheeks and tear stains all over your shirt.

“Oh, my love, what’s wrong?” She murmurs, stepping into the room before shutting the door behind her. 

“Everything.” You croak out. A fresh set of tears begin to creep up, ready to overspill down your cheeks again. Lyla says no more, instead taking you into her arms, allowing you to cry your heart away.

Your cathartic moment lasts for a good ten minutes before your body and mind are totally exhausted. Lyla rubs tiny circles on your back whilst you hiccup away on your bed. It’s silent between you too, the autumn sun already setting in the distance. You don’t even know how long you’ve been cooped up in your room ever since you arrived from work. 

“I know what will cheer you up.”  Lyla smiles, waiting for the moment that curiosity hits you.

“What?”

/

Late night clubbing. 

That was Lyla’s medicine. And to be honest, what’s a better treatment than getting blackout drunk to forget all of your shitty problems?

You’re currently in a club that you don’t know the name of. It’s local, not too far from campus and actually not too far from your apartment. It reminds you that you’ve not yet had the chance to explore the city; being so caught up in work, assignments and readings does unfortunately take up the majority of your time.

It’s a small club with very loud music pounding in your ears, the stench of sweat and spilled alcohol is something that you’ve now grown accustomed to after spending the past two hours here. You can barely hear the things that Lyla is saying to you as she orders countless drinks for the both of you.

Right now, you’re on a high. Your entire body feels light and your vision is slightly blurry but you can’t tell as to whether that’s because of the lighting. You can barely remember the meltdown that you had earlier, it seemed like a lifetime ago to you. 

After Lyla had found you, she helped you get ready for tonight. You’re slightly surprised that a simple face full of makeup and a short dress with some heels would have cheered you up so easily. You’re happy, happily drinking away your sorrows. The small part of your conscience that remains sober warns of how much you’ll regret it in the morning. And just like any other drunk person would do, you ignore it.

“I can’t hear you!” you shout across to Lyla, failing to lip-read her sentence. 

Lyla draws in closer, the scent of her cherry lime tequila on her lips. “I wanna go talk to that girl in the corner.” She mumbles in your ear, now loud enough for you to hear. “Behind me.”

As subtle as you can, you try and take a peek behind Lyla. Squinting, you spot a girl in a black dress in the back corner of the club. She looks around about your age and you’d assume that she’s a first year too. She holds a pink drink, standing with her own group of friends. Every now and then, you notice the girl glancing towards where you and Lyla are standing. 

“Oh, girl….”

“I know right! She’s so hot.”

You look back at Lyla, a smile creeping across your face. “Go for it.”

“Lemme take a shot first, y’know? For my confidence.” Giggling, the two of you approach the bar. It’s busy for a weekday evening but you assume that with halloween coming up, most people are in the mood for a night out. 

Taking the shot, the liquid burns the back of your throat and the two of you pull disgusted faces at the taste. Brushing herself off, Lyla prepares to make her way over. 

“Right, do I look okay?” She dabs a little lip gloss across her lips.

“Gorgeous, girl.” You pat her on the shoulders. “You got this!”

Lyla blows you a kiss goodbye, “I’ll text you if anything happens!” You give her a little thumbs up, watching her make her way over to the girl and her group of friends. A smile slips across your lips at Lyla’s ease of making a conversation, slipping easily into the group.

You turn back, ready to order another drink when you spot a familiar set of eyes from across the other side of the bar. Your smile drops at the sight of Miguel. 

“Oh, fuck me.” you mumbled.

Ignore him. That was your plan. Ordering another shot, you decide to drink away the embarrassment of your conversation earlier. You’re not even facing him but you can feel his eyes practically bore into you. Unfortunately, you didn’t look long enough to see who he was with but you hope that he gets the hint and chooses to avoid your awkward situation. 

Your hopes come crashing down at the sound of his voice close, very close to you. Just a little turn of your head and you find him standing next to you. 

“Don’t you think you should slow down a little?” He judges the pair of shots that you hold in your hands.

“And don’t you think that you should mind your own business? How long have you been watching me?”

“I wasn’t watching.”

“Right,” You pause to take both of the shots, one right after the other. Sure, you were doing a little extra, but if anyone else was in your situation they would do the same.

 “And I’m totally trying not to get black out drunk.” You mutter sarcastically, wincing immediately at the after taste.

“Any reason why you’re doing so?”

You snort at his question. Typical. He threatens to call the police on you and now asks why you’re trying to drown your sorrows in cheap alcohol? Men are idiots.

“Why are you even talking to me? Shouldn’t you be busy calling the police on me?” You didn’t hide the frustration in your voice, fiddling with the empty shot glasses in your hands.

Miguel hesitates. That’s a good question. A question that he unfortunately doesn’t have the answer to. But you’re not going to wait around for an answer.

“I’m going to get another shot so if you don’t mind, please leave me alone.”

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?”

Shit .

 You do. An early one too and if you don’t go home now then you’re looking at getting four to five hours sleep max.

But you’re not going to admit that to him. You shrug. “So what?”

“You need to go home.”

“And you need to leave me alone.” You’re already sounding drunk, the multiple drinks that you’ve consumed over the past few hours building up in your system and not in a good way. “I’m waiting for my roommate, she’s somewhere over there.” You stumble a little as you point to the back of the club.

Immediately, Miguel’s hands move to steady you. His large hands touch your waist, keeping you in place. Heat abruptly rises throughout your body, his actions having more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit. 

“And you need to go home.” He repeats, his tone a little more stern. 

“I said–”

Your sentence is interrupted as you feel your phone vibrate. The screen glows, illuminating your face as you read the texts that pop up on your home screen.

Lylaaaaaaa :) - (Sent at 2:23am)

- I tried looking for you, where did you go? :(((( xx

- also…I’m not coming home tonight wink wink

- Get home safe okay? xx text me when you make it back xx get an uber please!  xxxxxx

A sigh leaves your throat, your mood dejected. “She’s not coming back.” you mumble to yourself.

For some superhuman reason that you cannot understand, Miguel manages to hear you over the pounding music.

“I’ll take you home.”

You’re taken aback at his suggestion, your brain malfunctioning for a few seconds.

“Uhmmm, no.”

“Why–”

“Because.” You cut him off before he can even finish.

“That’s not a reason, nena . You can barely stand.”

“Because I hate you and I want nothing to do with you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Drunk enough to know that I still fucking hate you.”

“I should be the one hating you.” he scoffs. “You were the one who tried to sell my car.”

Your anger suddenly boils at the mention of it. You drunkenly point a finger at him, your nail tapping his chest as you speak. “Because you were a fucking asshole to me and wrote a fucking mean ass review about me!”

Miguel scoffs. “You did all this because I was rude to you? Por favorrr Dios, dame fuerza.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a breath. [Please God, give me strength.] “So when your boss criticizes your work you’re just gonna go out and break the law for some petty revenge?” 

“But you’re not my boss, that’s the difference.”

“And if I was, I'd fire you in a heartbeat.”

You meet his eyes, the two of you staring at each other unmoving as the music continues. The atmosphere of the club is beginning to get heavy. It’s getting harder to breathe with every minute that passes. You’re not sure whether that’s because there’s too many people here right now or if it’s because you’ve locked eyes with Miguel O’hara.

“I hate you.”

“Ditto here, nena .”

“M’going.” you announce abruptly, turning away from him. You barely make it a few steps away from him before a hand tightly grabs your wrist. You turn back expecting to see Miguel and forcefully push the figure away from you as hard as you can. 

“Hey! What the fuck? You made me spill my drink!”  are the words of the mouth of a complete stranger. 

“Oh shit–”

The stranger's expression turns to an angry frown yet he quickly disappears from view as Miguel stands between the two of you.

“Maybe keep your hands to yourself then, compa.” 

Miguel grabs you gently by the arm pulling you away. “Quick, before he gets angry. I think this asshole’s drunk.” He mumbles in your ear, his voice low and raspy.

“Who’s paying for my drink?” are the words that you leave behind to be swallowed up by the music.

Miguel takes you swiftly through the crowd, his height paying off in getting people to move out the way for him. “I’m taking you back to your dorm room. No ifs or buts.”

You barely have an argument to reply back with, your mind preoccupied with trying to make sense of that situation. 

Before you know it, you come to a halt in front of a table where a girl who you assume is your age is seated with a drink in her hand. Another person who you don’t know the name of is by her side. Her face lights up at the sight of you and Miguel.

“Jess, I’m going to take her home.”

“Whoa, whoa–”

He sighs, “Ay por dios– not my home. I’m taking her back to her dorm room, she’s someone I know and her drunk ass is gonna pass out any second.”

You observe Miguel’s friend in front of you, golden hoop earrings glistening under the club’s disco lights. You can’t pull your eyes away from her hair, black curls shaping her face.

“You’re really pretty!” you sob, tears beginning to blur your vision.

“Uhhh…thank you?” She raises a brow. “You too!”

You sob even harder, turning to Miguel. “She called me pretty!”

“And we’re going.”

Before you know it you’re whisked off, waving goodbye to a friend that you wanted to get to know better.

Stepping outside of the club, the cool air hits your body. The late October chill makes you shiver, almost regretting your decision at not bringing a thicker coat. Miguel keeps his hand on your wrist, he’s not holding you too tightly but just enough for you to keep your balance. He keeps close to your body, the warmth of him radiating over to your own. You hate it. How much you needed him. 

To keep you warm. Of course. That was all.

“I hate you, Miguel O’hara.”

“Uh-huh, you keep telling me that.”

“Just making sure that you don’t forget.”

“I sure won’t.”

You hate it. You hate him and his sarcastic attitude, his confidence and his ego. If he wasn’t so goddamn rude then you might have been more willing to accept the idea that you were attracted to him.

“You ruined my life.”

“You did that to yourself, nena .”

Silence comes between the two of you as you ponder on his words. The realization hits you abruptly. 

“I did, didn't I?”

You stop in your tracks, causing Miguel to do the same, his hand still around your wrist.

“Oh, please don’t start crying again–”

“I’m such a bad person,” you begin. “I-I-I ruined my life by trying to sell your car and I nearly got fired at my first ever job and I lied to my mom… I lied to my mom.” you emphasize.

Miguel shugs, “We all have, haven't we?”

“I lied to my mom about having a boyfriend!” You exclaimed. “And– and–and I’m a terrible daughter and I deserve death! and–and—

“ Hey , hey , don’t say that about yourself.” Miguel’s voice is stern, forcing you to look at him.

“But I lied and now she– she’s expecting me to bring someone over for thanksgiving and I don’t have anyone because I’m a liar and a criminal and I’m going to prison!” you sob harder, kneeling on the ground.

Miguel loses his grip on your wrist as you crouch down, crying. 

He looks around, searching for anybody nearby to help you and this…state that you’re in. But of course, there’s no one around on campus at two in the morning and he curses under his breath.

Bending down slightly, he decides to try the softer approach.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed and you can sleep and forget that this never happened.”

You lift up your head, tears dripping from your chin. “No. I- I won’t forget, I’ll just remember it all over again and– and –”

“Hey, look at me.” Your eyes meet his, this time with makeup dissolving down your face.  “I promise you’ll go to sleep and forget all about this okay? I promise.”

“Do you pinky promise?” You hold out your pinky in front of him. 

“I pinky-promise.” He sighs.

You shake your head, pouting. “No, you have to link with me.” He’s reluctant but it’s done and sealed for good. 

Slowly but surely he manages to get you to stand up again and starts to get you to walk. Through your drowsing speech he manages to figure out where you live based on which building you point to and he thanks the gods above that you don’t live far away from campus.

As you get nearer to your apartment, your tears slow down and you manage to recollect yourself, hiccuping every now and then as your sobs quieten down. You’re tired. Exhausted even. And you can’t wait for your head to hit the pillow. 

“Are you alright?” Miguel asks as you now approach your apartment building. 

You nod silently. He won’t try to get you to say anything anymore. 

He helps you up the flight of stairs, making sure that you don’t topple over. You grip his bicep for support, trying not to think about his scent, or the way he looks at you or the close proximity between the two of you as he helps you up each step.

You’ll question why he did all this tomorrow. But for now, you really just want some fucking sleep. Once you make it to your door, he stands to the side, silently watching you unlock it. The door swings open and you find yourself hesitating to get inside.

“You think you’ll be okay?” He asks, his voice soft.

You nod silently again. This is the part where you thank him for taking you home but you really don’t feel like it. Not to him. You nod in response.

Awkwardly, you enter your apartment, not looking back before closing the door. 

Your apartment is dark and cold. You don’t even want to turn on the lights, afraid that it’ll be too much of an eyesore. 

Your clothes that you were trying on with Lyla before you left are strewn across the living area. The black dress that you almost chose to wear tonight now crumpled over the couch. 

Entering your bedroom, you manage to blindly make your way to your bed. Not bothered to get out of your clothes or take off your make-up. The silence is eerily loud around you, second to, your heartbeat thumping loud in your ears.

“I hate you Miguel.” you say aloud, despite him being long gone.

And just like he promised, you fell asleep and managed to forget all about it. 

reblogs are much appreciatated!!

[seonghrtz]

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ nanami kento

꒰ first sight ! ꒱ an invitation to a palace ball gives a young woman hope of reuniting with the dashing stranger she met in the woods.

❛❛ an unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more. ❜❜

pairing. prince!nanami kento x (cinderella)fem!reader.

contents. cinderella alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, mentions of death, occ nanami.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this story was more inspired by the cinderella live action movie (2015). i love this movie and have watched it so many times with my mom that i know it by heart hihihi. also, i had to include the iconic scenes of cinderella and the prince in the garden and the stepmother breaking the crystal slipper!!! and one quote from jane austen's pride and prejudice. in short, just nanami being the prince we deserve!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a beautiful, sweet girl called Y/n. This little girl lived a quiet life with her family. Her father was a merchant who traveled frequently and her mother stayed at home, due to her fragile health, teaching her daughter and taking care of her. Although it was a simple life, Y/n was happy and that was enough for her.

However, fate doesn't always have a happy ending for everyone, and her mother eventually passed away due to health complications. And with her last breath, she wished that her daughter would always be kind and gentle, that she would have courage and always want to do good, even when evil tries to prevail. And Y/n promised her mother that her kindness would prevail in the most difficult moments of her life and that she would live a good life.

Not long after her mother's death, the girl's father decided to remarry, looking for a way for his daughter to have a mother figure, not to replace her biological mother, but someone who could be by her side when he couldn't be. Things didn't go well in the family, her stepmother and stepsisters were mean and abusive, taking advantage of her kindness when her father was away on business. And then everything fell apart when the girl's father had an accident on one of his trips and died, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her stepmother and stepsisters' selfish will.

Y/n was reduced to a maid instead of a family member. She was moved from her room to the attic and had to do the housework, washing and cooking all day. She watched as everything her mother believed in and liked gradually disappeared, while things became more her stepmother's style.

One day, tired of everything, the young woman rode into the forest. The wind in her hair and the tears drying on her face felt a little liberating. That same day, she crossed paths with a young man named Kento, who wasn't having his best day either.

An unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n awoke with the sunrise. After years, the young woman had become accustomed to the routine and every morning she rose early to prepare breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters and then set about cleaning the house. At the very least, doing the chores around the house kept her mind busy.

Just as she was preparing the materials to clean the house, a knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Y/n left the bucket of water she was holding in a corner and went to the door, surprised by the sudden visit. It was too early for people to leave their homes, and the postman had come the day before.

"Good morning" the young woman smiled politely at the stranger in front of her "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, miss." The young man fumbled with the bag hanging next to his body and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the young woman. Y/n took the envelope and watched as the boy said goodbye and walked away without saying another word.

The young woman looked surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She made her way to the pantry where her stepmother was having breakfast and asked to be excused before entering the room.

"What did I say about coming into the living room while I'm having breakfast?" her stepmother said with a harsh tone.

"Excuse me, but a boy just came by and left this envelope." The young woman placed the envelope on the table and walked away, watching as her stepmother picked it up and opened it.

Y/n waited for a reaction and was startled when the older woman in front of her suddenly stood up from the breakfast table and gave several quick and shouting orders.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GO WAKE UP MY DAUGHTERS! WE HAVE A ROYAL BALL TO ATTEND AND WE NEED THE BEST DRESSES!”

"A royal ball?" she asked confused.

"The King is giving a ball to find a wife for his son, who will inherit the kingdom, now run along because I need to go into town to find the three best dresses in town! One of my daughters is coming back married that night!"

"Oh, ma'am, that's very kind of you!"

"What?" The stepmother put her hands on her waist.

"The dress..."

"Oh dear, and who says the dress is for you?" the older woman laughed with glee, "Two will be for my beautiful daughters and the other will be for me, I will not spend my money to buy something for you to wear to the ball."

"But could I go to the ball?" she asked hopefully.

"Um..." the stepmother looked the young woman up and down, "If you've done all your chores for the day and have a dress, maybe you could go."

"Ah, thank you, ma'am!" Y/n smiled excitedly at the idea of going to a royal ball.

"Now go wake up my daughters!"

After waking her step-sisters, the young woman watched as the house descended into chaos. The two sisters screamed excitedly at the idea of the royal ball, while their stepmother ordered them to go to the city. Y/n felt true peace only when the house was deserted, just her and the animals in it. And without further ado, the young woman smiled to herself and ran to the stable. Luckily, her stepmother had left just when she had a secret appointment.

On the day she received the news of her father's death, and on the same day she rode aimlessly into the forest, Y/n had met Kento, a young man who had happened to receive tragic news and had ridden into the forest to relax. After the unexpected meeting, the young woman and the man agreed to meet every day in the same place at the same time to talk about their tragedies and successes. However, Y/n had kept these meetings secret, afraid that if her stepmother found out, she would forbid her to meet the boy she knew so little about.

With a slight smile on her face, the young woman rode to the meeting point and was surprised to see Kento waiting for her. Usually, she was the first to arrive, but the euphoria over the news of the ball had delayed her a few minutes.

"Miss." Kento smiled at the sight of her and helped her off the horse.

"Ken, I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, smoothing down the unruly strands that had been messed up by the wind "The invitation to the royal ball ended up stirring things up at home."

"Speaking of the royal ball, will you be attending?" Kento tried to hide the slight hint of hope in his words.

"I still have my doubts about that," she sighed, sitting down on a log next to her horse. "My stepmother said that if I managed to finish all my chores for the day, and if I had a dress, I could go to the ball."

"If they treat you like that, why don't you leave?"

"It's not that easy...not to mention that it's not that bad, other places can be more hostile."

"I see..." the young man sits down next to the woman, "I'd like you to go to the ball so we can have at least one dance.”

The young man's words made her laugh.

"Then I hope you'll save a dance for me."

"I'm saving all the dances for you, you're the only one I want to dance with on the ball night." Kento's words made Y/n feel shy.

"I think there will be many more interesting ladies to dance with." The young woman shifted her gaze to the trees that made up the scenery around her.

"I have no interest in other ladies, none of them can compare to you."

"Kento! You shouldn't say that!"

"Why not? My mother taught me to be honest and I'm just telling the truth," a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so direct with your honesty..." The young woman's face burned at the statement of the man next to her.

"Well, I wish you'd come to the ball so we could see each other outside of this forest for once."

"And dance the night away?" she laughed lightly.

"And dance the night away," Kento repeated her question, but this time as a concrete statement, leaving no doubt about his intentions with the young woman on the night of the royal ball.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

If Y/n said she didn't expect her stepmother and stepsisters to make her day the busiest of her life, running around doing chores and being responsible for every little detail of the preparations for the royal ball, she would be lying.

She'd woken up earlier than usual to get her mother's gown ready for the royal ball, but it wasn't long before her stepmother started barking orders, causing her gown to be forgotten. Cleaning the stairs, feeding the animals in the barn, helping her step-sisters put on their huge, garish party dresses, helping them fix their hair... among other things, Y/n had no time to finish her own dress.

Perhaps her meeting with Kento should only take place in the forest, hidden in secret. There would be no other way, not if her stepmother still had the power to dictate orders and interfere in her life as if she couldn't make her own decisions.

When she finished climbing the stairs that led to the attic where her bedroom had become, the young girl was surprised to open the door and find her mother's dress mended, brand new.

"How…?" Y/n approached the dress, delighted, "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you to whoever made it!" She smiled excitedly, now she could meet Kento and dance with him all night, just as she had said she would if she could attend the ball.

The young woman took a quick shower to get ready for the ball. There wasn't much to prepare, she fixed her dress to her body, put on her pink shoes with low heels, applied pink lipstick and put on her mother's pearl necklace before fixing her hair. She didn't have much, just as she didn't need much. Y/n was just happy to be at the ball and to have the opportunity to meet her friend. And she preferred to keep it simple.

But her happiness was short-lived...

When she came down to the parlor just as her stepmother and daughters were about to leave for the ball. Looking at the girl in her ball gown, with a happy expression on her face, Madame Tremaine saw the perfect moment to break her like fragile old porcelain.

"What's that?" Her stepmother's superior look didn't intimidate Y/n.

"I'm ready to go to the royal ball!"

"You? The ball?" Drizella laughed anasally, "But not even on the day the pigs fly!"

"Mom, I don't want to be seen with the maid! Look at these rags! They don't even compare to our fancy dresses!" Anastasia commented, looking up and down at the young woman in front of her.

"But you promised I could go if I had a dress and finished my homework," the young woman said, remembering the agreement they had made when they were invited to the ball.

"I don't remember promising you anything," Tremaine circled Y/n like a predator circles its prey. "You must have misunderstood, my dear. Never in my life would I go to such an important ball with a filthy, ridiculous little girl like you." The woman held the young woman's chin tightly, forcing her to look into her cold, hateful eyes.

"I don't understand... I've never done anything to you..." Y/n mumbled, her eyes watering as much from the force her stepmother put on her jaw as from the words spoken to her.

"You're an insignificant, annoying little thing, you know that?" Tremaine let go of Y/n's chin and smiled sideways before reaching for the pearl necklace that adorned the young woman's neck and ripping it off with her own hand, startling her. "Oops!" the woman smiled as she tore the sleeve and front of the dress, making her daughters laugh at the scene and help their mother destroy the dress, "Come on girls, we can't be late for the ball.”

Y/n felt her body shake, and when they were gone, the young woman ran quickly, sobbing, to the garden ⸻ the place where she had so many memories with her family, with her mother, and which Tremaine had never been able to change. She sat down on a bench and began to cry, not just for what had happened a few moments ago, but for everything she had been through these past few years without her family.

"But what is a beautiful girl doing crying instead of having fun at the ball?" The voice of a mysterious person startled Y/n, who was trapped in her own world of memories.

"Who... Who are you?" The young woman looked up, startled, and rubbed her eyes to wipe away the tears.

"Your fairy godmother, dear! Or rather, your Fairy Godfather!"

"What?" The young woman looked at the person before her. He was tall, with white hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and a pair of large shiny wings.

"You can call me Gojo if you prefer, now come on, hurry up, we have a ball to attend!" Gojo said hurriedly, pulling Y/n to get up from the bench.

"But I can't go to the ball like this!"

"What do you mean?" His glasses slipped down his nose.

"My dress is torn, I can't go like this."

"And why didn't you say so before?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, "Do you mind a few casual changes?" He pulled his wand from his pocket and smiled when he saw the young woman nod, "Then let's go!"

Gojo scratched his throat before dictating the dress, which completely transformed. The pink quickly turned to blue, and the single layer became several. The dress became voluminous, shiny and elegant, fit for a princess ⸻ and Y/n couldn't help but feel like one in that wonderful dress.

"Let me see your feet," Gojo ordered.

"What? My feet? Why do you want to see my feet?"

"Are you crazy thinking I won't do my full job? You need a proper shoe for that dress!"

Without questioning the fairy, Y/n lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her pink shoes, which in less than a few seconds had been transformed into a beautiful pair of crystal heels.

"Are they crystal?" the young woman asked in shock.

"The real question is, why not crystal? It's just a little gift, honey," Gojo smiled sideways, "Now hurry up, or you'll miss the first dance! Do you have any pumpkins?"

"Pumpkin? There are some over there." Y/n pointed to one of the corners of the garden.

"Wonderful. We have a pumpkin and some mice, perfect for a carriage and its horses." Gojo smiled proudly before casting another spell, transforming the pumpkin into a huge, detailed carriage and the nearby mice into majestic horses, "Now let's go, you can't be late!" He pulled Y/n into the carriage.

"But what about my stepmother and my step-sisters? They'll recognize me when they see me at the ball!"

"Don't worry about that!" Gojo tapped the young girl's head with his wand, "And remember, sweetie, all this magic here will only last until midnight, no longer."

"Until midnight?" Y/n smiled sweetly, "That's long enough, I don't need more than that. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"No thanks, sweetie, I'm your fairy godfather, it's just my job. Now go to the ball and have fun, break it out!"

"All right!" Y/n laughed, "Thanks again!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n was late.

She realized this when she finished climbing the endless stairs that led to the entrance of the ballroom and found the doors closed.

The young woman took a deep breath before opening the doors, allowing a glimpse of the stairs that would lead to the dance floor and where the other guests were gathered. She bowed when she saw the king on a throne at the top of the hall and walked quietly down the stairs, but the people began to spread out, forming a corridor from one side of the hall to the other.

Noticing the person on the other side, the young woman smiled and walked excitedly toward the person in the middle of the hall.

"Ken," Y/n smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"You came." Kento smiled, lost in the beauty of the woman before him.

"You promised me a dance," she smiled at the memory of their last encounter in the forest.

"Then I would like... I mean... allow me the greatest of pleasures by granting me the honor of letting you lead this... first..."

"Dance?" the young woman said, completing the prince's request.

"Yes, dance." Kento smiled awkwardly with a blush on his cheeks and ears as he saw the woman before him nod in agreement.

Gently pulling her by the waist and holding one of her hands, Kento led the dance as soon as the music began, whirling her around the hall. The young prince held her tightly, afraid that this moment would be one of his dreams, for he had found her fragile in the forest at a time when his own heart was fragile.

"Everyone is looking at you." Y/n mumbled sheepishly as she noticed the eyes of the guests watching them dance around the ballroom.

"You couldn't be more wrong." Kento laughed slightly, "They're looking at you."

When the music for the first dance ended, there was no waiting for the next dance to begin. Soon, the ballroom floor was filled with couples happily dancing to the lively music of the orchestra.

"Come with me." Kento whispered in Y/n's ear and led her out of the room.

"So... you're the prince?" The young woman asked even though it was as obvious as sunlight. She wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation as they walked to wherever Kento wanted to take her.

"Not the Prince, but one of the princes that exist in the world," Kento said awkwardly, "There are several... not just me..."

"But aren't you an apprentice, as you told me when we first met?"

"Yes, I'm an apprentice monarch who is still learning his trade." Nanami's words made Y/n laugh briefly, "First of all, I should apologize. Please forgive me for my lies, I imagined you would treat me differently if you knew I was the prince of these lands, I thought you were a good honest girl and now I have proof that you really are."

"So... no more surprises?" the young woman asks the boy, holding out her hand and showing him her little finger.

"No more surprises." Kento gently intertwined his little finger with the young woman's, wishing the world could stop right then and there. "This way, I promise we'll be right there," he said as he led her through the castle's vast garden.

"Won't they miss you at the ball?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I'm not planning on going back just yet."

"Is there a problem?"

“If I go back now, they'll try to push me towards a lady of their choosing." Nanami said dejectedly, maybe he didn't want to talk about his problems, not on such a magical night. "They want me to marry for advantage.”

"Well, I think you should rule your heart," the young woman said with a slight smile.

"Perhaps, but I must listen to and obey the king's wishes."

"He's your father, Kento, I'm sure he'll understand your point of view, you just need the right time"

"I've never shown this place to anyone before," Kento said, changing the subject when they reached the spot he wanted to show the young woman. "It's a secret garden, I thought you might like it.”

"I love it!" Y/n smiled as she explored the area until she came to a swing attached to a tree.

"Please," the young prince said, motioning for her to sit on the swing as soon as he noticed her gaze.

"I don't know if I should," the young woman said shyly.

"Yes, you should."

"No, I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Okay." She shrugged, gave in and sat down on the swing, and Nanami soon began to push her gently.

Y/n had as much fun as Nanami. They'd never met outside the confines of the forest, and even after so many surprises that beautiful night, they couldn't help but feel the magic ⸻ and love ⸻ in the air. There, at that moment, Nanami Kento wasn't a prince about to be thrown to the first rich princess who would sign a contract favorable to the kingdoms, and Y/n wasn't the maid of her stepmother and stepsisters who was constantly being abused. They were just themselves, without their titles, without what defined them, they were just two souls in love, enjoying the time they had left.

When Y/n's crystal shoe accidentally came off her foot, Nanami quickly stopped pushing her on the swing and crouched down in front of her, taking the shoe in his hands. He held up the hem of her dress, revealing Y/n's bare foot, and gently picked it up to put the shoe back on her foot.

"Is it crystal?" Nanami's hand, holding the young woman's foot, unconsciously patted her ankle.

"And why wouldn't it be?" she said gracefully, "Thank you."

"Y/n... would you accept..." The young prince's speech was cut short as the clock struck midnight.

"It's midnight..." The young woman got up from the swing, causing Nanami to get up with her in fright. "I have to go!"

"Wait!" Nanami watched as the young woman hurried past the exit of the garden. "Why do you have to go now?"

"Your Royal Highness is very kind, thank you for the wonderful evening," she said as she walked in quick steps, "I will never forget every second we spent together, it was magical. And who knows, maybe we can meet again in the forest."

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"It's hard to explain! But I promise we'll meet again!" Y/n smiled as she ran frantically.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" Kento ran after the young woman, but unfortunately, there were several obstacles in his way. It was as if the universe didn't want him to reach her at this moment.

As she descended the castle's long staircase to the exit gates, she lost one of her crystal slippers on one of the steps. Fearing the final chime of the clock, the young woman left the shoe behind, believing that its magic would eventually fade, and it would be nothing more than a lost heel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

All the magic vanished when Y/n arrived home, leaving only her little crystal shoe on her foot. The young woman bent down and picked up the only remaining shoe ⸻ since she had lost the other pair ⸻ and smiled as she looked at the shoe in her hands. The fact that it was there proved that it hadn't been a dream, but a real event.

Y/n went up to the attic and on a loose floor ⸻ where she kept some of her mother's things ⸻ she put on the crystal slipper. She knew deep down that something bad would happen if her stepmother found out that she hadn't just gone to the ball, but had danced with the prince.

Ah, the prince.

Not even in her wildest dreams would the young girl imagined that the boy she had met in the forest, and who had been meeting her at the same place at the same time ever since, was actually the prince, the future king, of the kingdom where she lived.

Kento had always been polite and kind to her, always willing to listen and talk about anything. He was already the man of every girl's dreams, and now that she knew his status, it had only been confirmed ⸻ but Y/n didn't want him because of his status

However, apparently he would only remain in her dreams...

The next day, Y/n went back to her routine as if the night before had never happened. She woke up early, prepared the food, took care of the animals in the stable, cleaned the house... Nothing was different, except for her memories and the hidden crystal slipper.

When her step-sisters finally gave her a break and spared her from hearing about the men who had danced at the ball and how a young girl in a blue dress had dared to go straight to the prince after setting foot in the ballroom, Y/n headed for the attic.

In the afternoon, she would go to the forest as usual to meet Kento. The young woman wasn't sure if he would show up that afternoon, but she hoped with all her heart that he would be waiting for her among the trees. As he always did.

As soon as she opened the door to her room, the young woman noticed that some floors were out of place, and when she noticed that her memory box was out of its hiding place, her heart began to beat fast and her palms began to sweat with nervousness.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Tremaine's voice startled Y/n, but her fear was soon replaced by surprise when she saw the slipper in her hand. "Oh dear, don't look so scared. I'm only going to ask you once. From whom did you steal it?"

"I didn't steal it from anyone, it was given to me!"

"Given to you? Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing is ever given, especially to someone like you!"

"I swear it was a gift!"

"So you're going to insist on the lie?" Tremaine let out a bored sigh and walked to the attic exit, tapping Y/n on the shoulder on the way, "Good thing you'll have plenty of time to think... Oh oops!" The woman slammed the crystal slipper into the door frame, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she saw the shattered shoe on the floor, barely noticing Tremaine lock the door. The young woman knelt down and picked up each shard, feeling the tears blur her vision. The first gift she had received after so many years was broken and there was nothing that could fix it. Now only the memories remained.

Y/n sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands and sat down by the window. She had nowhere else to go, she wouldn't be meeting with Kento like she used to. The only thing she had left were her animal friends to keep her company.

Not long after, the door to the attic was opened, frightening the young woman ⸻ she swore that Tremaine would lock her in there for days, or perhaps just until the next day. But she was soon surprised to see a palace guard instead of her stepmother.

"Miss, please come with me.”

Without saying a word, Y/n followed him down the stairs to the living room. When she reached the living room, she noticed a figure she knew well. His clothes were in perfect condition, with no wrinkles or stains, his blond hair was perfectly styled with not a single strand out of place, and his posture was upright and impeccable. There was no doubt that Nanami Kento was a perfect prince.

"Your Royal Highness," Y/n said, bowing.

"I thought we agreed to treat each other without formalities, Y/n." Nanami turned, his serious expression relaxing slightly as he met the bright eyes of the young woman before him.

"Forgive me." Y/n murmured shyly.

"When you ran away during the ball and didn't show up in the forest as usual, I thought maybe I had disappointed you by revealing my true identity as the prince. I thought maybe I should give you some space, but I couldn't. Your name is engraved on my heart, and you are the only thing that crosses my mind every moment I breathe in and out. Every day I looked forward to seeing you for even a few seconds in the forest, and when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was about to fall apart. I looked for you all over the kingdom, I went from house to house looking for the owner of the lost crystal slipper, I went to the edge of the forest looking for you. I love you, most ardently. I'm yours with or without the crown". Nanami approached Y/n and held her hand to his chest, making the young woman feel his heart beat faster.

"But Nanami, I'm just a simple farmer's girl, and as much as my heart wants to throw myself into your arms and give myself completely, I don't know if I'm suited for such a responsibility."

"A wise woman once told me that we must rule our own hearts. Please come with me and I will be yours forever.”

"Eternally mine? That doesn't sound so bad..." Y/n murmured, her heartbeat calming down to a feeling that was too good to be true.

"So, what do you say?" Kento smiled slightly.

"I'll be yours, any way you want.”

Then Nanami, overcome by the heat of the moment, passionately kissed the woman of his dreams. The kiss was calm, there was no need to rush, it was tender and addictive.

Y/n smiled as they moved away from each other and felt Kento place something in her hand. The young woman looked down at her hand, noticing the missing pair of her crystal shoes.

"You... you found them," she looked at the shoe in her hands, "I don't have the other pair."

"I can have a thousand crystal shoes made if you want." Nanami said with a serious face, showing that he wasn't joking.

"That won't be necessary." Y/n laughed at his lover's expression. "It's just a reminder that that magical night wasn't just a nice dream."

Kento smiled slightly and hugged Y/n tightly. Finally, after a long time, the girl he had always dreamed of, the girl who had always made his heart race, she would finally be by his side forever, there would be no need for him to run off into the forest, because she would already be within reach.

© seonghrtz, 2024. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[luvrinne]

୭ SOME BOOKS THAT RORY GILMORE READ ׂ  𓈒

— 1984 by Orwell George

nineteen eighty-four by George Orwell is a dystopian novel that portrays a totalitarian society where personal freedom is non-existent. It warns against the dangers of totalitarian power, surveillance, propaganda, and thought control, in a powerful critique of modern society.

— atonement by Ian McEwan

atonement by Ian McEwan is a gripping novel that delves into the complexities of guilt, redemption, and the power of storytelling. Set in England during World War II, it follows the lives of three characters whose fates become intertwined after a tragic misunderstanding.

— the bell jar by Sylvia Plath

the bell jar details the life of Esther Greenwood, a college student who dreams of becoming a poet. She is selected for a month-long summer internship as a guest editor of Ladies' Day magazine, but her time in New York City is unfulfilling as she struggles with issues of identity and societal norms.

— christine by Stephen King

christine tells the story of a car apparently possessed by malevolent supernatural forces. A love triangle involving 17-year-old misfit Arnie Cunningham, his new girlfriend and a haunted 1958 Plymouth Fury. Dubbed Christine by her previous owner, Arnie's first car is jealous, possessive and deadly.

— the virgin suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

the story, which is set in Grosse Pointe, Michigan during the 1970s, centers on the lives of five doomed sisters, the Lisbon girls. The novel is written in first person plural from the perspective of an anonymous group of teenage boys who struggle to find an explanation for the Lisbons' deaths.

— to kill a mockingbird by Harper Lee

to kill a mockingbird is a coming-of-age story about a girl named Scout. Scout and her brother Jem try to understand and relate to their father, Atticus, who is a lawyer charged with defending a Black man falsely accused of raping a white woman.

— sybil by Flora Rheta Schereiber

sybil is a gripping true story about a woman with multiple personality disorder. Written by Flora Rheta Schreiber, the book delves into the life of Sybil Dorsett and her 16 distinct personalities, as well as the therapy sessions with her psychiatrist, Dr. Cornelia B. Wilbur.

— pride and prejudice by Jane Austen

pride and prejudice follows the turbulent relationship between Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of a country gentleman, and Fitzwilliam Darcy, a rich aristocratic landowner. They must overcome the titular sins of pride and prejudice in order to fall in love and marry.

@ luvrinne

[bridgertonblue]

I love the fact that before the trailer even dropped I said we were getting a Jane Austen’s Emma inspired season of Bridgerton and they straight up NAME DROPPED EMMA IN EPISODE 1!

I literally SCREAMED when Eloise said that that was what she was reading, and now that I’ve had more time to really think about it it makes her story arc/mannerisms in this season make a ton more sense. She’s always peaking around corners, asking Colin probing questions, and openly engaging in idle gossip about the situation between Penelope and Colin. And yes, the Whistledown of it all, I get that, but when you add in the fact that she’s reading Emma, a story about two life long friends/neighbors who fall in love, it makes her nosiness make ALL THE SENSE.

She NEVER noticed anything between Colin and Penelope before this season, she was always way more occupied in finding Whistledown or talking to Theo about women’s suffrage, etc etc. But she picks up a romance novel, and she almost immediately clocks into what’s going on between Colin and Penelope.

I can understand why she’s enjoyed Emma, especially after what happened between her and Pen because Emma is largely about platonic friendship. Yes, two friends(Knightley and Emma) fall in love at the end, but the majority of the novel is Emma trying to maintain her friendship with Harriet, who she absolutely cherishes. Emma, out of concern/a little selfishness, tries to set up Harriet with a well to do guy who lives in town so she can keep Harriet close to her, societally speaking. It fails miserably and Harriet gets hurt, which destroys Emma. She tries to set her up with Frank Churchill(oddly enough the guy everyone thought she’d end up dating) but Harriet falls for Knightley instead.

Knightley, Emma’s oldest friend/friend of the family(technically brother in law?), someone who she’s known since childhood, her closest neighbor, the guy she see’s nearly everyday, someone she never thought would ever marry because he’s always at her house and never talks or shows interest in any other women(but her which she’s oblivious too). Someone who always finds her and talks to her at every ball and every gathering, someone who’s opinion she values more then everyone else’s. And Harriet, her girl bestie, is in love with him, and oh god, what is this feeling? Why is watching Knightley and Harriet walk around and chat so painful?? Then Emma realizes, “oh shit, I’m in love with my best friend, I’m in love with Knightley”.

And when Knightley finally gets around to telling Emma how he feels, she’s not ecstatic or thrilled or happy, she’s UPSET because it means her bestie, Harriet, is about to be hurt by her actions AGAIN. The man she’s in love with tells her he loves her in a beautiful passionate speech, and all she can think about is “oh god what about Harriet??” Emma apolgizes and tries to fix things and Harriet finds a way to forgive her, and the weight of that forgiveness and having her friend back almost means more to her then getting to be with Knightley.

So, yeah, I can see how Eloise would connect with that novel. I can see how she’d open her eyes and notice the similarities between Knightley/Emma and Colin/Penelope, I can see how she’d enjoy the story of two girl besties fighting and figuring out a way to move forward and be friends again.

Anyway, that’s my rant. If you made it to the bottom of this long ass post then bless you!

[the-badger-mole]

I havent watched atla but i love hearing sum hot takes

I don't know how hot my takes are, seeing how many people actually agree with me, but here's a few of my spiciest takes:

Aang and his relationship with Katara turned out exactly like I expected it would. Bumi and Kya's neglect, and Tenzin's trauma included.

Aang is more like Ozai than Zuko is at any point in canon. If it had been intentional, it would've been brilliant!

If any couple would have married just weeks after meeting and stayed married forever, it would have been Katara and Zuko. They would've been the Crofts of the ATLA universe (that's a reference to Jane Austen's Persuasion). That is why I think that when Katara told Aang she was "confused" in EIP, she was really turning him down in the nicest way she could.

I understand why Taang is a thing, but Toph deserved better than Aang. Just because she would've been good for him doesn't mean he would've been good for her. And every argument for Taang I've personally seen has been about how good she would've been for Aang.

Aang didn't teach Katara how to be a kid. He did whatever he thought was fun, and if Katara joined in, fine. He didn't actually care if she was having fun.

Calling the first 2 Kataang kisses sexual assault is not overstating things. Just because Aang the character was 12 doesn't absolve him. His creators were grown men who should've known better.

I don't ship Aang with anyone because the character that he was written as was waaaaaaay too selfish to be a good partner for anyone. I have made no secret of my hatred of Kataang, and I just told you why I hate Taang, but I also hate Zukaang. Specifically because of how Aang approached the problem of Ozai. Zuko deserves better than a more cheerful version of Mai.

Speaking of Aang's comparability to Mai, I think they would make an interesting couple. Not a happy one, but an interesting one.

Bonus: I call the Aang/Mai ship Flying Dagger. I need Flying Dagger to be a thing. I don't even care if people use the ship name in happy Mai/Aang stories.

I hope this scratched that hot take itch, Anon.

[gayerthanevertbh]

first time.

pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist 

summary: you were curious about how same sex works, which is why your best friend natasha (who is older than you) shows you how it’s done.

anon request: reader being curious what it’s like to be with the same sex and asks older bestie tasha and she’s like let me show you and gives y/n the best orgasm ever and then make it a pt.2 where tasha and y/n fell for eachother after all the hookups and make it messy but soppy at the end 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

warnings: oral sex (r receiving), scissoring (both receiving), dirty talk, pet names, older!best friend natasha - 18+ MINORS DNI.

author’s note: hopefully this is okay anon! (yes i’ve been updating)

Natasha was messing with your hair while you were reading Emma by Jane Austen, your favorite classic. It was a rainy afternoon, and you could hear soft trickles of rain pouring from the window, giving you some peace as the weather got colder and colder the longer you stayed in your room with your best friend, who was a decade older than you. You had no idea how you'd met her, probably through a mutual friend of your mother's, and now you two were inseparable. Despite your parents' disapproval of your friendship with Natasha, you enjoyed spending time with her. She was soothing as if you were bathing in sunlight.

“Tasha?” you call out her name with a whisper, the woman replying with a hum.

“What is it, doll?”

When your friend MJ started dating a girl, you became intrigued by the idea of two people of the same gender having sex. How would that work? You thought in your head. You don't seem to get any ideas as you play out scenarios in your head. You were hesitant to approach Natasha, but you were already present. You needed to understand how that works because it might apply to you.

“How do girls have sex?”

She chuckled, kissing your head.

“With a man?”

"No," you said, chewing on your lower lip and pushing your foot with your other pair, anticipatory. “I-I meant… girls who have sex with each other. How does that work?”

“Either they use a strap-on or scissor,” she replies smoothly, massaging your scalp as she gets closer to the back of your head. “Or maybe fingering or eating out, there are tons of other things really. Why? What’s wrong, baby girl?”

Your stomach flutters when she calls you baby girl, which has been her nickname since you first met her. You turned over your shoulder and gave her a soft smile, then you felt her lips pecking on your temple, causing the feelings in your stomach to grow even more.

“I just got curious that’s all…”

“Hmm,” she brings your chin upwards to look at her as she sighs, pulling your body much closer to her. People would think this isn’t how best friends touch each other, but you’d think otherwise – unless that perspective will change in the future. “You want to try how it works?”

“W-What?”

“You know, have sex. With me.”

Could I possibly be dreaming?

“Wait, w-why?” you asked, not meaning to be crude. “I mean, sure but–”

“Then that’s all I ask,” she smiles at you kindly and then kisses your nose, you could feel your core heating up. “Now that I’ve got your consent, I want you to lie down for me and I’ll do the work, my love.”

“But what if–” you hesitated for a bite, gulping down the saliva in your throat. “What if I’m not good at this?”

“It’s your first time,” she whispers as she flips you over, her body on top of you. She leans close to your face as she slowly kisses your lips, causing you to moan onto her mouth. She sighs deeply at the feeling of your lips on hers, wondering what else she could do next with you. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that, kotenok.”

You could tell that she longed for this moment, and you thought hard in your head that you’ve always felt the same way. The more you two share a kiss, the better it gets. Things were getting hot, you felt yourself needier, and she couldn’t stop flicking her tongue on your lower lip; asking for entrance.

She pulls away, asking: “Would you like me to show you, pretty girl?”

You nodded helplessly, and she smiled.

“Stay still for me then, doll.”

Natasha pulls up your camisole tank top, exposing your breasts. The older woman sighed deeply at the sight, wishing she could go faster but knowing it was her first time with a girl, or anyone, she had to take things slowly. She presses her lips against your cleavage, molding her hands around your breasts as you let out a tiny moan, clearly feeling ecstasy radiate through your body.

“My love,” she whispers with a sweet hum, closing her eyes at the taste of your own skin. “Oh, my pretty baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”

You loved the way she would talk to you as if guiding you through her mind. When you felt her lips going deeper into your torso, you knew that you could have an orgasm at any given moment – but you had to hold them back, the urge to just come right in front of her.

Natasha sucks your left nipple while teasing the other one, her tongue flicking hard on the bud, causing you to whine pitifully – as if you couldn’t get enough of it. She chuckles.

“You like that, little girl?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, as you arched your back slightly. “K-Keep going, Tash…”

"I will, I will," she chanted, her lips kissing the center of your stomach and her hands teasing the back of your thighs. “Beautiful, you’re too cute. The things I could do to you, baby... you have no idea how much power you have over me."

She speaks like a poet. Every word she says makes you believe she's the smartest person on the planet. Even the way she speaks to you while kissing your naked torso feels surreal. A clear one from which you cannot escape. Natasha hoisted up your lower body while pulling down your tiny silk pink shorts and underwear. She looks down at you with love in her eyes, tinged with possessiveness, once you were naked to her glory. You giggled, trying to cover your body, but she pinned your wrists on top of your head.

“It’s okay,” she reassures with a kind voice, kissing your lips once again to make sure that you were safe with her. “I won’t hurt you, baby. I promise.”

She spreads your legs apart as she lays herself on the mattress, hooking her arms on both of your thighs as you try to clench them in pleasure, almost locking the woman’s head. She chuckled, kissing your pubic bone as she smelled your core deeply, sighing to herself.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to claim you, sweetheart," she moans, licking your pelvis. You mewl in response as your hand runs through her hair, softly grabbing it. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you baby girl?”

“Mhm, so ready.”

"Yeah?" she smirks above you, her fingers making circular motions on both of your thighs, her mouth close enough to your pussy She blows on your clitoral area, causing your hips to arch. She was relieved to have a hold on you. “Shh, fuck princess… You look so cute like this. Makes me want to bite you, claim you, make you mine…”

I’m all yours to take, Natasha.

She takes a deep breath and lunges her tongue on your cunt, lapping through your folds. You whined in response, rattling your head all over the pillows as you felt her tongue poking on your clit, flicking it harshly as you felt her lips sucking on it. She lets out a long moan as she closes her eyes, getting herself obsessed with a new foreign taste – which she will love from now on.

“Fuck, you taste so good…” she praises, spitting on your entrance as she teases it with the tip of her tongue. She gives another bold stripe on your folds before whispering, “Baby girl, your pussy is so pretty for Mommy… it’s all for me.”

She couldn't stop herself; she had grown an obsession with your pussy from the moment she saw it. And the more she ate your cunt, the more she felt herself becoming wet from the insane amount of pleasure coursing through her veins. She sucks on your clit, gently flicking and biting it as you screamed in agony.

“Mommy!”

"Sorry, sorry," she chants, lovingly kissing your folds. “I’m just… fuck it’s so beautiful, I want to eat this forever doll. I need this pussy in my life.”

You humped her face while she ate your cunt, groaning and growling each time you played with your nipples. The redhead tightens her grip on your thighs, expecting to leave a handprint on your skin, but neither of you cared. You felt as if you were about to be taken to heaven, and it was her, with those lips you never thought could happen. She was a professional; she knew exactly what she was doing to your body, and you became addicted to it.

You suddenly felt a sharp feeling through your abdomen, like you wanted to come. You open your eyes once more to look down at her, asking: “I-I think I’m going to–”

“Not right now,” she whispers, bringing herself upwards as she hovers over your body again, causing you to whine from the extraction of her tongue on your cunt. She kisses your lips again, licking the roof of your mouth as she begins to do more things to your body. “I want to make love to you, we’re going to scissor, okay? Just follow my lead, sweet baby.”

She removed her underwear and you stared at her naked cunt as she noticed your stare. “Do you like it?” she asked, making you nod in response. “Okay, that’s good. Just open your legs for me, I’ll do all the work.”

She gets between your legs, places her cunt on yours, and thrusts down as you both moan in unison. You wrapped your arms around her neck, biting your lower lip to keep your moan from becoming too long, while she humped you from above.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she whimpers, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You like this, baby? Do you like me fucking you?”

"Mhm!" you whined, fluttering your eyes closed as Natasha grounded her cunt onto you, your clits colliding. You two do this for a few minutes before the redhead becomes needier and spreads your other leg wider. “Tasha, I–”

“I love you so much,” she whispers with a sob, her pace getting rougher and faster as time passes. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good against mine, you’re everything.”

Her thrusts against your cunt start to get sloppier as she bites your neck sweetly in response. She holds you close to you, clinging her arms around you as she makes circular motions with her hips, teasing her clit against yours. You grabbed her face and kissed her, not sure where to insert your tongue. She moans onto your lips and continues to rut her hips onto you, the bed slightly creaking from her movement.

“I’m so close,” she howls, dropping you back to the mattress and sucking on your nipple while her other hand teases the side of your hip. “Come for me, baby girl. Come for Mommy.”

When the wave of orgasm hit you both, you both moaned. Natasha clung to your body, still rutting her hips to ride out her pleasure, as your back arches from the pleasure. She kisses your lips again, biting on your lip as her orgasm fades and the air begins to cool.

“I love you,” she whispers with a smile, pecking your lips twice. “I love you more than words can be described.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

[thebluemallet]

I'm still not done obsessing over this season because I just realized another thing.

I've already talked about this before but at the beginning of the season, Eloise is reading Emma--the novel where the matchmaking protagonist realizes they're in love with the next-door neighbor they've known since childhood.

Emma also happens to be the last of Jane Austen's books that were published anonymously. She was credited as "A Lady" for her first four books. It wasn't until after her death with the publication of Northanger Abbey and Persuasion that her identity was revealed.

It's a nice parallel to this season, the last season where Penelope publishes anonymously. Going forward, everything she writes will be under her own name.

And if you need any more Emma connections, Edmund Bridgerton's actor Rupert Evans played Frank Churchill in the 2009 miniseries. And Polly Walker--Lady Portia Featherington--played Jane Fairfax in the 1996 film.

[igotanidea]

More than blood: batboys x bat!sister

Dick was not the first one who was adopted by Bruce.

Y/N was.

And if you talk about the eldest daughter complex she was the perfect example of it.

Y/N was so much like her adoptive father. Quiet, observant, seemingly emotionally cold yet charming and enticing when circumstances called for it. Smart like hell. She knew exactly how to take care of herself, and yet, Bruce being himself was always hesitant to let her out into the streets of Gotham at night. But she fought for it. Hard. She had no natural talent for fight, but she was fast, flexible and imperceptible in the shadows. Slowly, but steadfastly she gathered enough strength and skills to become the very first Batman’s sidekick. She was not a fan of a traditional way of training. Boxing, weight lifting and throwing punches wasn’t exactly her style, but she was extremely good with skates and rollerblades and all the moves that involved a bit of dance-like moves. So that was how Bruce trained her. Three-turns, brackets and rockers just came naturally to her, both on ice on the ground and she was soon the best of the best. When she was ready to come on patrol,  Bruce created the most cliche name for her.

Batgirl.

Which she instantly refused, instead choosing to go by the name of Cover. After all, that was what she was doing. Covering.

At first, it was only Bruce and Alfred she was taking care of.  Never pushing anything but always finding a way to make sure they did the right thing. Listening carefully to their every word, getting her head around any possible situation and just being there when they needed her. She was not a people pleaser and definitely wasn’t going out of her own way for them (and that was the hot spot between her and Bruce), but in times of need and crisis she was the best possible support. Unwavering. Strong. Persistent.

And then, Dick came in. Of course, having younger brother (even if there was barely half a year age gap) put a lot more pressure on her shoulder. So she did her best to connect with him. It was hard, no denying. Dick has just lost his parents and he was harsh and murky and  a bit unpredictable. But she did not give up making sure he will finally warm up to her. And maybe Bruce.

“What are you doing?” one day, after particularly rough training with Bruce he came across her while she was working out

“Oh, you know. I was never good with all those flips” she lowly lifted herself from the floor, rubbing sweat from her forehead, her hair being a total mess. “Bruce insisted I learned some, but I was always better with my speed, skate figures and fast-thinking than actual acrobatics. However” she raised an eyebrow at the boy “I heard you are the master in the field. Care to show me a few tricks? Unless you prefer to sulk in the corner….” She smirked

And so they connected. Creating a lot of inside jokes during the year, being the support for each other. Of course, as older sister Y/N had no problem in literally smacking his head when he did something stupid and as younger brother he had no inhibitions in scaring her potential boyfriends away, but yes, they were close.

And then, Jason came in. The rowdy kid from the Crime Alley and she had to figure out another way to reach him. It didn’t take a lot of time to notice he was interested in literature, so she started leaving books around in the manor. Mostly classics, like Jane Austen and Shakespeare, but from time to time she risked more modern writers. He always took them from the place they were and returned a couple days later. He was a fast reader. One night, when he returned from patrol, all fuming and on the verge of breaking, he noticed a light coming out of her room and due to some crazy feelings took a few steps towards there.

“Hello, Jason” he might have been quiet, but she was the first trained by Bruce, so the poor boy has no chance not to be noticed.  She turned in her chair and smiled lightly “It’s good to see you.  So it happens I got tickets for a midsummer night’s dream. Two tickets. Would you maybe ….”

“Yes. Yes, please, take me with you.” his eyes was glistening with so much hope she would choose him, it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. Pushing aside the urge to hug Jason (it was too early for that and he would not appreciate) she just nodded. And there was the connection.

And then, there was Tim. The Brainiac. Coffee addict. Sleep deprived. Constantly working, cracking cases. And being quite successful at it, even if sometimes he took the long road instead of connecting the dots to create the shortcuts.

“How’s the case going?” she asked at breakfast one time, noticing Tim’s tired eyes and disheveled hair. He wasn’t sleeping well that night, but what’s new.

“It’s not.” he groaned pecking at his food not really eating any of it “and stop making fun out of me because of it!”

“Fun?” she almost choked on her toast “Really, Tim? I’m not happy at all that you are missing the most obvious piece of the puzzle.”

“The most ob….? You were compromising my work?!”

“I was …. Checking your work” now, she had to be extremely careful with words “And what I found out is that you definitely have a criminal mind. But” she raised a hand stopping him before he could say a thing “you are also awfully messy, Tim. You splattered some coffee on the sheets and blurred the numbers. And that is why you couldn’t reach the conclusion.”

“I…. What!?”

“Hate to break it to you, champ.” She shrugged taking a sip of her own coffee “but apart from that, you did a really good job with the task.”

And with a couple more cases like this they got into real sibling relationship.

Damian was the hardest one. Trained by the assassin, treated like a threat and a menace, far more tough than Jason, cruel and with no moral compass. Not by his fault. He was the one who needed some soft care most of them all, but would never accept. So there were two options, get to him with fighting skills or by using his art adoration. She couldn’t just leave art supplies for him like she did with Jason and books, but she got one more idea, which required a bit of Alfred’s help.

‘Rough night miss y/n?” the butler asked when the girl emerged from the batcave, covered in bandages and patches.

“You have no idea, Alfred” she yawned “At first B had me running around the streets creating some sort of diversion for him, since none of the Robins where available “ a quick glance towards her three brothers “and when I got back I got lost into my latest painting…..” she trailed waiting for Damian’s reaction. Seemingly nothing has changed, but she looked carefully enough to notice his eyebrows lifting slightly and his body shift towards her to hear better. Gotcha!

“The castle?” Alfred asked, curiosity in his voice

“Yes. I’m almost finished  and I think I will need some help in hanging it in the living room soon. Will you be so kind with it Alfred?”

“Of course, miss Y/N.”

A couple days later, the painting did hang on the wall and some Sunday afternoon she found Damian standing in front of it and looking it up and down.

“I could have used a bit more blue on the edges.” She said stopping by his right side.

“Not just blue.” He retorted

“Nighttime blue?” she asked

“Nighttime blue” he said at the same time and their gazes met.  She tilted her head slightly while Damian’s face showed a bit of surprise. He was so young and so wrongly treated it was almost unfair.

“I know, but it’s too close to the color of Dick’s suit. He would never let me live it through.” She let out a laugh and Damian smirked.

“I got an idea of how we can improve your next painting if you ever were to create another.”

“Oh, you think you are better than me in the art field?” she gasped grabbing her heart in fake hurt

“I know I am.”

“Wanna bet?”

And so he warmed up to her as well. It seemed like all of the batboys were prone to her silent charm. But obviously there were times when she had bad days. Being the one with the longest training, seeing most of the violent things and crimes and living thought her own tragic events sometimes, in the times of greatest stress she was just becoming completely silent. Not able to say a word, getting through the days like a ghost, wanting to disappear, getting lost inside her own head. Usually, it lasted up to four or five days, and it was normal. Just a sign for Bruce to put her off the patrol so she can get through whatever was going on inside her head. He wasn’t the one to actually talk a lot about feelings and emotions, but even Batman had to be alerted after two weeks of radio silence on her part.

From the little intel he had on her since she left the manor he learned that for the last days she wasn’t eating properly, struggling with her work, looking tired and worn out even though she was sleeping a lot. Something was off and the only people who could actually be of help would be her brothers.  Dick was in Bludhaven, Jason was running around the Crime Alley, Tim was busy with work for Wayne Enterprises and Damian, well…there was no way of figuring out what he was up to. Bruce groaned not really sure how to call the boys for rescue but it was about Y/N so he just used the unofficial channel and simply called all of them. He did not expect that they would gang up and show at the manor at the exact same time. Those stone walls haven’t; heard that much of a banter and silly fights for a while and despite everything, deep, deep inside Bruce was glad they came.

“Let’s be clear. I’m here only because of Y/n.” Jason stated bluntly “nothing more”

“thank god, I thought Red Hood was getting soft” Dick punched his arm playfully and was surprised with how hard his little brother’s muscle were.

“If you want me to show you…..”

“Where exactly is Y/N?” Tim interrupted his brothers fight, focusing on the most important matter

“And where are her paintings?” Damian frowned looking around.

“She moved out some time ago and took her works with her.” Bruce hissed. It was somewhat …. painful to admit that she left.

“Where?” Jason hissed

None of them cared that it was the middle of the day and their sister was probably at work. They had their own methods of getting inside the building unnoticed and years of training came extremely useful in that case.

Poor Y/N. Work was hard, as usual during the last couple days, she was tired and sad and dealing with a lot of thoughts. Even her usual way of blowing steam off while skating or rollerblading wasn’t helping.  She might have left her vigilante persona behind, but old habits die hard and when she climbed up the step to her apartment she could not fail to notice shadows on the floor and almost inaudible voices coming from the inside. Her instincts immediately kicked in when she put the bag down, bracing herself and busted through the door. Her first, perfectly aimed punch met with Tim’s stomach and the half-turn kick got Damian falling onto the ground. It took both Dick and Jason to stop her from making any more damage.

“Calm down Y/N! It’s just us” Jason calmed her down smirking, surprised with her skills that wasn’t gone.

“Will you behave?” Dick added making sure she wasn’t going to attack them again and only then letting her go

“What the hell?!” she hissed getting free of her brother’s grip “what are you four doing here?!”

“since when do you know how to punch?” Tim groaned “I thought that wasn’t your style?”

“I expanded my skill set. Out of everyone here you should be the one to appreciate it, Tim.”

“I would esteem it better if it wasn’t aimed at me.”

“Right. Sorry. But the question remains. What the hell are you doing here?! You know, I;m used to one Robin, or former Robin, come around from time to time, but this?”

“Father called upon us. He was worried something was off with you.” Damian spat getting off the floor, embarrassment visible on his face.

“Bruce was worried?” she laughed ironically “Right. Sure. He was the reason I left the manor. Should have taken example from you Dick and run the hell away ten years ago.”

“It was five….” Dick tried to chime in but she did not let him

“And now he’s so worried he won’t even visit me by himself. Instead he just send a rescue party?” she turned around and  slumped on the couch

“Y/N…..” Jason tried to reason with her “come on, tell your favorite brother what happened”

“For once I agree with Todd. Tell your favorite brother what is wrong. I mean, me, of course in case someone does not get the clue” Damian hissed taking a spot next to Y/N before anyone else could do it.

“Cut it guys, everyone knows I’m her favorite. I know her the longest of us all and I know everything about her.” Dick objected, crossing his arms with a wide smile, being so sure no one could threaten his position

“Everything?” Tim scoffed “You have no idea about half of the things she likes. I learned them. By myself.”

“Yeah, by spying on her. You call that a good relationship?”

“I do not spy!”

“Cut it, replacement. We all know the most bonding thing are inside jokes. And we have plenty since we read the same books. You wouldn’t even get half of our quotes!”

“Let me get my gear and I’ll show you how half of a quote look like. Art is what connects people and you all are just nonentity in that area. Not like me. Besides, I was training with her the most, so…..” Damian interrupted and at this moment all four boys were just shouting at each other while their sister was sitting on the sofa watching the scene in front of her eyes without any word.

“Get out.” She finally said. Quietly, but they heard her and stopped immediately “All of you. Get out. Now. “

“Y/n….” Dick was first to notice his sister’s pale skin and shaking hands “Please….”

“No.” she shook her head “I;ve had enough. This is exactly why I was always making sure you won’t show up at my place at once. You just can’t seem to fight who’s better or stronger or smarter or more skilled. It’s been like that all our time together. You just try so hard to outdo one another. “

“Well, I mean, she’s not wrong” Jason smirked running a hand through his hair and was instantly met with four pairs of reproachfully eyes “sorry….”

“Is that what bothers you?” Tim asked silently bending down to look into her eyes.

“What? No. Hell no. Why do you think something bothers me?” she stood up abruptly heading to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Shit, Tim was always the one to crack her faster than others.

“You have cuts on your forearms.” Red Robin pointed and she tried to cover them quickly

“And a bruise on the neck.” Damian added following her

“Those kind of traces that does not come from skating.” Jason poked at her skates thrown on the floor in the corridor

“And that means you….I mean, Cover, has been active again.” Dick finalized. “Why?”

“Oh, come in….” she was getting more and more nervous with every minute “is this an interrogation now?”

“No. This are four brothers concerned about their sister well-being.  Does that sound better.”

“Vaguely.”

“Why did you put on the suit again?”

“Because I wasn’t feeling enough!” she spat and immediately covered her mouth to stop the sob coming next

“What?!” Jason hissed and grabbed her hand which made her flinch “oh, so you hurt your hands as well.  Not so much about expanding your skills in punching, hm?”

“Shut up.” She hissed back at him, sticking her tongue out

“That’s a very mature behavior for the oldest one” Damian pointed “but Grayson’s question is still on. Why did you pick up the mantle again? You said you were done?”

“I was. Until one night I heard the weeps and screams of my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.”

“Y/N….”

“And the other time, when I heard on the news how Nightwing got beaten while protecting people who were trapped in the fire….”

“I did not…..”

“Oh, and that one time when some little bird brought the news about Red Hood getting in trouble in the Crime Alley and almost dying? Again.”

“ok, it wasn’t even half as bad…..” Jason tried to defend himself

“And then, Red Robin and Robin. Running loose without batman. Dealing with criminals on their own accords and getting involved in the shooting?”

“It was Drake’s fault!” Damian cried out and Tim just punched him lightly

“Stop it.” Red Robin hissed at his younger brother “let her make a point, because it’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

“Come on, sis, tell us” Jason crouched next to her and squeezed her hands lightly

“I…. I can’t”

“Of course you can. There’s no shame in anything. Safe space. And as your big brother, I have duty to make sure you are all right.”

“You are younger than me, Dick.”

“Barely younger. And still, the oldest brother. “

“Come on, Y/N. Just spit it out.”

“Fine. Fine. Just quit looking at me like that. It’s creepy. I… I might have gotten into a bad relationship…..

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Damian. It wasn’t that serious. I kicked his butt first time he came at me….”

“WHAT?! I’m gonna find him. I’m gonna find him and…..” Dick caught his younger brother before he could get out and really find and eliminate the guy.

“It’s in the past. But you know, all that got me thinking. About who I was in the past. The cover. And how you guys were always out there, putting your lives at risk while I was just sitting at home, watching and doing nothing…..”

“so you thought it would be good idea to just go out on patrol by yourself.” Tim threw his arms in the air in frustration “Y/N, you know better than that.”

“Come on, what was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Call me….” Jason said, but corrected himself due to Damian poking him in the ribs “I mean…. Us.”

“How could I?” she rolled her eyes.  “You guys have enough on your plates without me.”

“This is unbelievable” Tim scoffed

“You never patrol alone and we would never let you do it” Damian added

“What do you mean without you?” Dick narrowed his eyes at their sister “do you think you are some sort of burden?”

“Well…. I…. um…..”

“Are you insane?” Jason was the first one to burst. “Are you insane?”

“You do realize we are family, right?”

“This is a pretty crazy family.”

“Sure, but at the end of the day we watch each other’s back and that’s why we are all….alive.”

“Ekhem….”

“Sorry, Jayson, but we are alive. Some of us get to be alive more than once, but still.”

“I hate you, Dickhead”

“Look Y/N, no matter what you need to know you are important. You were the one to always take care of all of us, so, just for once, let us do the same.”

“But isn’t that what the eldest sibling of the family is supposed to do?”

“Since when do you care about supposed to do?”

“Never did. But I care about you guys and…..”

“Let us help Y/N. You are not alone. “

“I know. “

“So why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying!”

“You are!”

“Stop it! It’s just …. Nice, to know someone cares about you, all right? That is… new.”

“Come here, you silly one.” Dick crushed her in a bear hug to the point where it was nearly impossible to breathe “you’re not doing it again alone, you hear me?”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“I’m thinking.….. just for the sake of all times…. A little night patrol with all your crazy brothers?”

“Dunno. Is Red Hood ready to work with the bats?” she smirked at Jason.

“Just this once. And we stay out of the Crime Alley.” He shook his head in disapproval but his words were contradiction to his action.

“How about our little Robins?”

“I’m not little!” Damian yelled

“Neither am I, but still I’m down. It’s been a while and I’m wondering if you really did enhanced your fighting skills.” Tim smiled

“So, it’s settled. Everyone meet me here at the dawn?”

“You sure you can handle four vigilantes in your tiny apartment?”

“I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I can always ground you. Big sister privilege.”

She smiled at her brothers and despite their protests she was now feeling so much better. Just knowing that she had someone (more than one) to rely on made her feel valued and cared for. This family was more than blood and they were protectors of each other as much as of Gotham.

[typical-simplelove]

Third Time's the Charm (A. Svechnikov)

Author's Note: This is my submission for @wyattjohnston's 2024 Summer Fic exchange!! This is for @kurlyteuvo. So sorry that I didn't reach out as much to you and waited until the last day to post it; things have been crazy busy recently. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mostly proofread, but other than that, nothing that I can think of!!!

likes are appreciated, reblogs are better

Her friendship with Andrei started with a brief exchange in a coffee shop. Accidentally picking up her coffee order at the shop down the street from her apartment, he gave her a boyish grin, realizing it wasn’t his name on the cup. 

“Same order, eh?” he let out with a chuckle, a silly smile overtaking his face as he handed her the coffee. “We both like our coffee as light as we can get without getting judged.” 

“Something like that,” she replied, mesmerized by the twinkle in his eyes. With a few blinks and glances at this man, her periphery seemed to dim with Andrei glowing, almost as if he were stealing all the light in the coffee shop—no, the world. 

“For you,” Andrei says, not losing his smile. He holds the cup out to her; her name rolling off his tongue easily, too easy, in her opinion. “I read your name off the cup.” 

“I figured,” she answered, giving him an amused glance. 

Andrei didn’t have the chance to respond to her as the barista called out his name. He grabbed his order, giving the barista a quick thank you before turning back to the initial conversation. “Exactly the same. You can inspect the label, if you don’t believe me.” 

She let out a breathy laugh. “I believe you.” 

“Andrei,” he says, right before breathing out your name. When he said her name, it was as if it took no effort. Well, saying a word here or there didn’t evoke much effort from the majority of people, but the way Andrei so easily said her name made something deep in her stomach come alive once again. 

An aliveness she wasn’t in the mood to explore again. 

“I’ll be seeing you,” he replied, his smile growing wider. Is that possible when it has already reached his eyes? 

“See you,” she managed to get out at the last minute, but it sounded breathy as if she were flustered. Was she flustered? When was the last time someone had made her sound breathy and flustered? Using all these words makes her sound like a heroine in a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte novel. 

Is that what she’s been reduced to? Is that what Andrei has reduced her to? A heroine from a Regency-era novel? 

But then as she watched Andrei leave the coffee shop and walk past the window, he gave her a small wave, and then maybe it was okay that he made her feel confused but also empowered. 

Over the next couple of weeks, she kept running into Andrei, but not just at that coffee shop. At the grocery store, at the bookstore, at the Target across town, at the park, everywhere she frequented, he happened to be there, too. 

It was all random coincidences, but it made her feel ticklish and warm whenever she ran into him. 

From these chance encounters, she learned about Andrei. He was from Russia, and he played professional hockey for the Carolina Hurricanes. He loved his family with his entire being, and he was an absolute ray of sunshine. 

And, Andrei was single. 

She wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Did he drop that information on purpose, or was it just something he said to say? 

At this point, she wasn’t actively looking for a relationship. Actually, she was pretty sure she was doing everything she could not to be looking for a relationship. After things hadn’t gone her way in the past, she wasn’t ready to undo all the chains and locks and bridges and doors blocking her heart from anyone new. 

So, she slowly put Andrei in the friend zone. That’s where he would remain, and if he had any qualms or issues with it, then that would be his problem. She wasn’t opening her heart up to anyone. 

Even for stupidly handsome Andrei. Who always had a smile on his face. Who always seemed to emit sunshine to the point that everything outside the bubble he put between the two of them seemed to darken. Who always had something good to say and lived by the code, “If you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.” Who always made her laugh to the point that her stomach muscles were getting a workout and were sore the next day. 

Even for ridiculously hot Andrei. 

One night, after he spent a lot of time at these chance encounters convincing her, they had sat down for dinner at one of her favorite diners, hoping for a lowkey setting to fully shove Andrei into the proverbial friend zone. 

He sat across from her, however, a bright smile on his face, never wavering as he soaked in every word she said. She spoke about her family, work, education, and everything she could think of. 

But nothing could deter the eager but endearing look on his face as he got to know her further. 

“You seem to have a full life,” Andrei says in between bites of food. 

“Very,” she agrees. 

“Any romantic partners?” he asks, looking bashful at the prospect of asking her this question. 

She shakes her head. “Not right now, but who knows what the future has in store?” 

The minute the words left her mouth, she had no reason for why she said what she did. She went into this dinner fully ready to put Andrei in the friend zone, only wanting to be his friend (despite all his amazing qualities to be more than a friend). But she didn’t do that. She let Andrei believe that the chance for more was an ever-present thought. 

Well, now she’s getting ahead of herself. She was making the assumption that he was into her, and for all she knew, he just wanted to be her friend, right? 

This was what she decided to go with. Andrei wanted to be her friend, and assuming he wanted to be more than her friend was presumptuous. 

That settled it, then, she wasn’t going to lead him on because she didn’t want more, and who’s to say what he wanted? She couldn’t read his mind. 

However, as they said their goodbyes after finishing their evening together, promising to get together again soon, she couldn’t help the rosy warmth that spread through her body with their departure. 

She wouldn’t admit it, even internally, but deep down (super deep down), she knew that if anyone could open up her heart and life, it would likely be Andrei. 

There was something about him. 

Maybe Andrei was preparing to take her heart off the shelf. 

. . .

The local farmer’s market was one of her favorite places to spend her Saturday morning. Not only did they have amazing food and drinks vendors, but the assortment of flowers, crafts, clothes, and used-book vendors provided hours of entertainment and amusement that proceeded to spread into the week. 

And now, she was going with Andrei. 

Ever since that dinner at the diner, they’ve been texting non-stop. Throughout the day, Andrei was sneaking away from practice or training or media or whatever he had to do to text her back (not that she knew this), and she snuck her phone in between projects and meetings and phone calls and emails to text Andrei back, always giddy with excitement knowing she had an Andrei text to respond to and the anticipation of getting his response. 

After the work day ended, they continued conversing with each other, but this time there were no interruptions. Even when Andrei was on a road trip and in a different time zone, he always managed to find an hour or two to text her uninterrupted. 

That prioritization made her feel whimsical and flippant, but she chose to ignore what that could possibly mean. 

One Thursday, he asked how she was spending her weekend. He had no games that weekend and wanted to try to make plans with her. He didn’t tell her this; it was his intention behind the text. It took him fifteen minutes of agonizing to feel ready and confident to send the text nearly took him out; his cardiologist wouldn’t be happy with the spike in blood pressure. 

But he sent the text, and she responded, saying she was spending her morning at the farmer’s market. 

She didn’t offer for Andrei to go with her, but he was trying to find a nonchalant and non-creepy way to ask if he could join her. 

He didn’t have to stress about it, though, because she followed up the text with her plans with, “If you’re free, you could join me.” 

And that was the in he needed. 

He quickly typed out a reply, trying not to sound too eager, and said he’d be happy to join her. 

And with that, they settled on plans to meet on the upcoming Saturday, and Andrei went to bed that night happy and excited about what that day would entail. 

Standing by the marker point she mentioned in her text, Andrei was trying not to fidget. He had a few tote bags that he borrowed from a teammate’s wife in one hand, and his other was running up and down his shirt in an attempt to dry and wipe up the abundance of sweat forming. 

He was taking small, collected breaths to try to calm down. 

“Hey,” she said when she walked up to him, gently brushing his shoulder with her hand to alert him of her presence. 

“Hi,” he answers, all his nerves floating away. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“It’s really good to see you, too,” she answers, a bright smile beaming off her face. “Shall we head in?” 

“Yes, of course.”

Andrei’s nerves might have floated away, but her nerves definitely didn’t. If anything, they started to blossom and flounder in a way she never thought possible. 

When she asked Andrei to join her at the farmer’s market, she genuinely had no clue what she was doing. She planned on typing out a question, asking him what he was doing that weekend, but what ended up coming out was asking if he wanted to join her. 

As each second of the day got closer to the moment when she was going to meet him, her nerves continued to grow and build. She thought that at this point it would boil over and she’d reach maximum anxiety and stress about meeting him, but it never did. 

When she finally met up with him and saw him, the nerves didn’t plateau. Now, though, there were even more things to agonize and fear over. 

Why did her friend make her this anxious and nervous? After all, he’s only a friend. A friend!!!!

She didn’t want to address the nature and cause of her nervousness. As far as she chose to admit, she was going to conduct the rest of the day as if her subconsciousness weren’t waging a war with her consciousness, trying to get a vital message out. 

“Do you have a specific plan for today?” Andrei asks her, taking her out of her endless stream of never-ending thoughts. 

“I tackle food first so that I get the best picks and nothing is picked over,” she replied, appreciating his question because it set her at ease (or was it him?). 

“Sounds like a plan,” Andrei says, his natural and iconic wide smile overtaking his face. 

For the next couple of hours, Andrei followed her around like a puppy, offering brief questions and commentary about the choices she made, questions ranging from what she was buying to why she was purchasing things to why she selected certain options. He was nervous that he overwhelming her with too many questions, but with every question he asked and answer she provided, her eyes would twinkle—as if they were in a perpetual sparkle, twinkling to make sure watchers noticed the shine in them—and a soft but bright lined her facial features. 

This was when Andrei noticed just how beautiful she really was. He knew she was pretty; one would have to be legally blind to be unable to notice her beauty. At that farmer's market, however, that’s when he noticed that she wasn’t just pretty, but she was beautiful and stunning, a beauty that people fought wars over. 

This has made the situation more complicated for Andrei. He could tell she was holding back from him, especially in a romantic way, but he didn’t want to push her. He, also, didn’t want to be obvious about how he felt or what he wanted down the line. 

He needed something to distract him. Looking at her face was making it incredibly difficult not to pull her face towards him and kiss her. 

“Flowers?” is what he forces out. 

“I’m sorry?” she asked, befuddled by his response to her asking if he wanted coffee. 

“May I buy you flowers?” he asks. 

“Oh,” she answers, a different type of shock taking over her. “Um, yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Andrei nods, walking towards the flower stand. By the time he found her again, she was standing off to the side, her bags of produce and baked goods and the likes slung over her shoulder, two iced coffees in her hands. In his hands, he had five different bouquets of flowers; he didn’t know her favorite flower and panicked. 

“For you,” he pushed out, almost like a grunt. 

She stifled her laugh but her features still contorted. “And I got you coffee.” 

He nods in thanks as they exchange coffee and flowers. She holds the various bouquets to her body as she thinks about how she wants to carry them around the rest of the market. 

“Here,” Andrei says, opening up one of the bags he brought, allowing her to place the bouquets in the bag. “I panicked.” 

“Huh?”

“The flowers. I panicked. I didn’t know your favorite flower.” 

“Oh,” she answers, her stomach filled with flutters. 

For the next few minutes, they walked in silence, briefly glancing at the various remaining vendors, too engrossed in their personal thoughts to pay much attention. 

She finally breaks the silence, saying, “Baby’s breath.” 

Now, it’s Andrei’s turn to be confused, and he follows up with a, “What?”

“My favorite flower. Baby’s breath. You know, for next time.” 

He nods, smiling. “Understood.” 

So, there would be a next time. 

The prospect of it excited Andrei and made him reconsider everything he knew about life, love, and the universe. 

Next time. 

Crazy that those two words were enough to tilt his entire universe on its axis. 

. . .

For some reason, there was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn’t hang out and meet at each other’s homes. 

It didn’t make sense to Andrei. He always felt the most comfortable in his home or on the ice, and because she couldn’t be on the ice with him during practice or games, he wanted her in his home. However, whenever he brought it up, he seemed to deflect or work around the topic. 

His home was his safe space, and he wanted to open it up to her. 

He felt more comfortable at home. 

He also felt that he could woo her and convince her to take a chance on him if he was as comfortable as possible. 

Alas, it hasn’t happened, and it didn’t seem like it would happen. 

For some reason, though, she agreed. 

He didn’t think she’d agree, but he thought he’d try one more time, so he said, “We could have a movie night at my place.” 

She responded as expected, replying, “Maybe, yeah.” 

He, in his head, decided to let it go, but then he blurted out, for some reason, “I have jello.” 

Her eyebrows, as expected, crinkled at his words. “Jello?” 

“Yeah, jello,” he continues, needing to stick to whatever story his subconscious was forcing on him. “It’s your Ken job.” 

Whenever Andrei went on a road trip, he asked for her movie, show, or book recs, and he’d pick one or two (depending on the length of the trip) to consume and discuss with her. One of her picks was last summer’s Barbie movie, and the discussion prompted what their Ken jobs would be. To be honest, Andrei had one of the most real-life Ken jobs in the world, but he managed to spit out his ideas. 

Her idea was jello. “It’s always soothing to stir the mix with hot water and cold water, and to make the various layers is fun. Jello would be my Ken job,” she said when they met up for drinks one night. 

“Are you going to make jello?” she asks, bringing Andrei’s mind back to the present. 

“I can,” he prompts. 

She nods. “This weekend work for you?” 

“What?” He was shocked, now. 

“For movies and jello, this weekend?” 

And that was how Andrei finally convinced her to go to his home. 

And all it took was jello. 

Andrei was spiraling for the next couple of days leading up to their get-together. He had to make sure everything was perfect. If anything appeared to be amiss, he wasn’t sure he could convince her to come back. He needed this to go as perfectly as possible. 

It was a must. 

“You have a cute place,” she says after Andrei gives her the grand tour, hoping she noticed all the little decor changes he made to cater to her interests and the deep cleaning he did. “It screams you.” 

“Thanks,” Andrei replies, ignoring the wave of warmth and emotion overtaking his body. 

Oh, if she knew the power she held over him. 

After the tour, Andrei told her to lounge on the couch and to relax as he grabbed the snacks and drinks. 

“And jello?” she jokes, his favorite smile of hers gracing his face. 

“And jello,” he agrees, matching her smile, his cheeks turning rosy. 

When he came back to his living room, a tray of food in his hand, he noticed her holding her body, running her hands up and down her arms. 

“Chilly?” he asks, concerned. He liked having his home a little cooler than the average individual may prefer. Internally, he’s smacking his head, wishing he had adjusted the thermostat to her preferred temperatures. 

“A little, yeah.” 

“I can change the temperature.”

She shook her head. “I can just use a blanket or something.” 

“Will a sweatshirt work?” he asks, running through his head the clean sweatshirts he has in his closet. 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“Let me grab you one,” Andrei lets you know, heading to his bedroom to grab a sweatshirt. He knows he has a clean (ish) one sitting on his bed. He doesn’t think about the insignia or the labels on the sweatshirt. The color doesn’t even strike him. It isn’t until she puts it on that he realizes just what he’s done. 

Well, it isn’t that he’s done something; it’s just that he has given her a sweatshirt in Cane’s red with his name and his number on it. 

Throughout the movie, Andrei tries his best not to think about how he feels about her wearing his name, number, and colors along her back and shoulders, but he can’t. 

He knows what it means and what it implies, but then he thinks about how firmly she’s placing him in the friend zone, and his heart shatters. 

In this relationship, he’s playing the long game, hoping to slowly convince her how much he likes her, but he can’t control his heart and emotions as he glances at her every now and then in his sweatshirt. 

At this point, Andrei doesn’t expect to or think he’s going to marry her, but all he can hear are wedding bells. The fact that he could be spending forever with someone who isn’t her. 

Andrei watches her as she eats the jello he made, and he makes a silent vow. 

He’s going to be patient, and he’s going to be kind. That’s his plan. 

Hopefully, that’s enough to convince her that he’s worth it. 

. . .

It had been a long day at work, every second dragging on. When the end of the day finally came, it felt like it couldn’t come fast enough. 

All she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and lounge on the couch all night until it was time for bed. 

She had the intention of going home, but when she got to the street where turning right would lead her to her home and turning left would lead her to Andrei’s home, she turned left. It was an impulse decision, but she knew that it was the one thing she wanted. 

He would make her feel better. Just seeing his face would make her feel better. 

Since that movie night a few months ago, she’s started to become more open and willing maybe more with Andrei. She couldn’t deny it; she was hopelessly in love with him. But, she just didn’t know how to bring it up with him. For so long, she’s implied and pushed him into the friend zone, and she didn’t want to assume that he liked her. If she were put in the friend zone, she would do her best to get over said person, so she didn’t want to assume that Andrei had feelings for her. 

But, she sure hoped he did. 

She cast these thoughts to the side as she pulled into Andrei’s driveway. It was as if he knew she was showing up because, within seconds of her pulling into his driveway, he walked out of his front door, ready to pull her into his arms. 

“Bad day?” he whispers into her hairline, holding her close to his chest. 

“Kind of, yeah,” she whispers, feeling his heart beat against her cheek. “Okay if I hang out here for a little bit?”

“Of course. My home is always open to you.” 

With his words, she pulls her head back to look up at him, a soft smile overtaking her face. He returns the smile, and within seconds, he takes her hand in his and leads her inside. 

This wasn’t the first time that she had shown up unannounced to his home after a bad day at work, and he appeared to fully know her after-work routine as he led her to his bathroom, giving her towels and clothes to shower and relax. 

When she gets out of the shower, warm and comfortable in a pair of his sweats and hoodie, she finds him on the couch and instantly folds her body into his lap and arms. Without question, his arms wrap around her, holding her close and relishing in the warmth of her body. 

It doesn’t take very long for her eyes to go heavy, and she tries her best to stay awake. 

It’s always in her moments right before she falls asleep where she has her greatest realizations about Andrei. 

As she starts to succumb to sleep in his arms, she thinks about her friendship with Andrei, just how much she loves him, and how safe he makes her feel. 

When she finally closes her eyes, she makes the decision that she’s going to tell him the next morning just how much she loves him. She needs him to know, and if he doesn’t feel the same way, then she’ll figure it out. 

But she needs to tell him. 

And as he laces his hand into hers and kisses her temple, that’s when she realizes and knows that he’s been waiting for her, too. 

He never lost faith in her. 

And it will all turn out okay. 

As she’s lying in his arms, she’s hoping and praying that third time’s the charm.

[ifyoucandaniel]

i know we all love our jason “reads classical literature and makes obscure literature references” todd, and usually damian is the other reader in the family and they either bond over their love for classical literature or try to kill each other. however i would like to take this a step further and say that EVERYone in the batfam are big readers. i come from a big family and all of us read in some way or another so here are my headcanons for the bats:

jason, as we know and love, is a massive classic literature buff. pride and prejudice, the brontë sisters, the iliad (he swears achilles and Patroclus are the greatest love story of all time), etc. he IS pretentious and everyone groans when classic literature is brought up in any debatable capacity. however his all time favorite book is the princess bride and he would die for buttercup. when the whole family starts watching jujutsu kaisen, jason reads the manga just so he can spoil things for damian that never actually happen. the day a new episode comes out jason tells damian panda was actually a spy and kills megumi. damian tries to kill him with his cereal spoon

while damian was with the league talia made sure he was sufficiently educated in classic literature in all their original languages, and he doesn’t mind a good classic. however i think he actually reads a lot of manga and children's classics. he read where the red fern grows and old yeller and cried, but he won’t ever admit it. he loves shonen and shojo manga, he really likes naruto and attack on titan (i can’t really decide what i think he’d like actually)

Dick is a smut slut girly!! he is in a bookclub with babs and steph where they read the sluttiest books to ever make it through publishing. He read ACOTAR and was constantly facetiming babs to rant. they're currently reading haunting adaline. Bruce once asked what the big deal was when the girls were talking to dick about fouth wing in the kitchen and they all looked at him with such offended expressions he never asked again

tim is also a pretentious fucker, but he reads dark academia. he will ride or die for Donna Tarte, his copy of the secret history is always on the desk by the batcomputer and he takes if we were villians on patrol with him. jason fucking hates his books and they're always fighting on who's taste in books is better. jason actually really loved a little life a cried seven times while reading it, but he would rather die than concede

steph is an AO3 girly!! she's part of the slut bookclub with dick and babs, but at heart she's an ao3 girly. she's also written her fair share of bruce wayne x batman fanfics. she once read a superbat fanfiction out loud to the boys and dick was absolutely enthralled, duke was morbidly facinated, damian had never been more disgusted in his life, and jason laughed so hard he almost threw up

duke reads a lot of comics (spiderman is his favorite because i say so and the MCU is their comic world), and he likes X-men and wolverine. he also really likes high fantasy and has read every book brandon sanderson has ever written

Cass like romance novels and ya books. damian acknowledges her taste in books after she defends his stance on harry potter and percy jackson being classics when jason tries to argue that they don't belong in the same category as his books. she read the cruel prince and convinced bruce to get her a snake she named percy. she reads books damian recommends and he would never actually say it out loud, but he secretly loves sharing his books with her and feels a lot closer to her because of her willingness to read what he recommends

bruce isn't typically a reader (he's too busy serving justice and kicking ass) but he will read books that his kids ask him to. he read the entire wheel of time series with duke and would go on patrols with him after just to talk about it. he read the golden compass to dick when he first took him in, and he read all of jane austen's books after jason told him he must be illiterate if he'd never picked up a classic

now what about alfred...

i dont have time to do everyone else and this is super rushed, but I just couldn't stop thinking about dick and babs having a little book club and reading the sluttiest books ever

[fandom-hyperfixation]

𝗗 𝗥 𝗘 𝗔 𝗠 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚

Summary: You had a dream but unfortunately there was a misunderstanding.

Characters: Valtor x Reader (she/her) / Bloom

Words: 1091

Warnings: Implied smut/Nsfw, some spice but nothing detailed. Cuddling with a friend. Secret relationship. Enemy to lovers. Kind of betrayal. (Please let me know if I should add anything)

A/n: Hey Ho. Well, this is only the second fandom for which I post fanfiction and I haven’t written for a while. And my native language is not English, so please forgive me for any mistakes and it was more of a spontaneous idea I had. Please just don’t expect a Jane Austen novel. (I'm not nervous, you are xD) Okay, I’ll stop talking now and just hope that at least one person will kind of enjoy this here. Have a great day/evening/night.

"Y/N! Hey, Y/N, wake up. You’re having a nightmare." The voice of bloom breaks through the wonderful dream you just had.

"Y/N, come on, please, you have to wake up, it’s all right, I’m here, it’s just a bad dream."

Confused, you slowely open your eyes but the second after you closed them again, blinded by the bright light of the lid lamp.

"Ugh," escapes your mouth while you press your face into the pillow.

"Y/N, finally! Everything is fine." Bloom’s deliberate calming words only add to your confusion. More carefully this time you turn your head to look at her.

The brightness lets small tears shimmer in your eyes, quickly you try to blink them away.

"What’s the matter?" you ask without really opening your mouth but Bloom understood you anyway.

She carefully puts a hand on your cheek, stroking a tear from your skin with her thumb. "Hey, don’t cry. Everything's okay, it was just a nightmare, don’t worry, Valtor’s not here."

Suddenly your eyes widen, "What? Valtor?" Your voice sounds nervous as you're pushing yourself up to sit, capturing her gaze with your own.

"Hey, I told you everything was okay. It was just a bad dream. You called Valtor’s name in your sleep, I can understand it, I often dream about him. But we’re with you, we protect each other, don’t worry."

The Guardian of the Dragon Flame moved closer to hug you. Still overwhelmed you let it happen, placing your head on her shoulder.

You can’t find the right words to get yourself out of this uncomfortable situation. And the only option you have is to play along and just agree.

You close your eyes, still not accustomed to the brightness and two more small tears roll over your cheeks, your chin and finally land on Bloom’s arm.

Your friend sighs, "Back a little, I can sleep next to you, maybe we’ll both dream better."

In your head you hear the laughing of the lord of evil. He's laughing at you for this situation. Gloatingly, teasingly.

You nod indecisively but at the same time shake your head to banish the magician from your thoughts, which rather ends in a strange circular movement.

The fairy lets you go and crawls behind you on the bed, patting on the mattress next to her and slowly you lie down.

With a snap, the light goes out. Bloom approaches you, wraps an arm around you before snuggling up to you.

You grab her hand to cross your fingers with hers.

"Try to sleep a bit more, I’m here now," she whispered.

Your heart is racing incessantly as you can do nothing but nod again, it has absolutely taken your breath away.

For the next few minutes it is quiet, you do not dare to move. Not until you are aware of the regular breath of the fairy. She fell asleep.

You sigh and are sure that your cheek must be red like a tomato from shame.

Your mind worked at full speed to realize and process the things that have just happened. You must summon all self-control to avoid giggling. At the same time, however, you feel your guilty conscience eating through your body, burying cell by cell.

Your friends were always there for you, they helped you every second without asking questions, they trusted you blindly, just like you trusted them. They made every effort to protect and support you.

You all had nightmares about all the things you had to go through and survive. But since Valtor came into your lives, everything has gotten worse. Hardly anyone can sleep for a whole night. Hardly anyone can dream of anything beautiful.

Hardly anyone can feel something like true joy.

But while all your friends were plagued with nightmares and are not allowed to have a careless second because of the dark wizard, he is the reason that you can sleep well. That you still feel something like satisfaction or happiness and can forget all that terrible things for a moment.

It was pure irony.

While they all suffered because of the wizard, every night you dream of his hands gliding over your entire body when you sneaked out of Alfea to meet him in the cloud tower again. How his lips invade every spot of your body, leading you into another dimension. How his rough voice sounds musically in your ears when he groans your name or tells you how perfect you are for him. How his hot breath flits over your skin when you lie in front of him on the desk. How he makes you feel as good as no other has done before.

What was your dream, was their nightmare.

What became your joy, became their sadness.

What deprived them of all their powers was what made you feel more alive than ever.

Valtor was their curse, but he was your blessing.

The more you thought about it, the more your mind became weary. And as soon as your eyes closed, you were back at the sport you were before Bloom woke you up.

In a storeroom in the cloud tower, without clothes, while the magician knelt in front of you, throwing your head back in pleasure.

***

In the cloud tower, Valtor laughed deeply as he turned his gaze away from the sphere through which he had observed you and your friend.

He could hardly wait to make you blush with the events of today and evoke your shy side the next time you would come to him, your enemy, to wind under him in passion.

He had taken off his coat and pulled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Sitting in the big desk chair he turned in a semicircle. He looked through the large windows of Miss Griffin’s office into the dark night. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes as well before mentally diving into the same memories you are exploring.

This little fairy had fallen for him, just like he had fallen for her.

Thanks for reading. 💚