#but I’m like JANE. HONEY

[lesbianfakir]

See my thing with vengeful spirit/entity revenge horror is I just… don’t get why they can’t be friends?? I always feel really bad for the monsters like wow I’m sorry you had a horrific life and death that really sucks. And I get that they’re angry and want revenge but it’s always on innocent people. Why is it never enough to find someone who empathizes with their pain and tries to help them/lay them to rest? WHY DO WE HAVE TO MURDER THE NICE PEOPLE???

Anyways I would die in a horror movie because I would be like I’m gonna befriend the creepy haunted murder doll and this will horrifically backfire on me

[personinthepalace]

I don’t usually listen to music on spotify, but I did listen to the mlj soundtrack on it this year so my spotify wrapped is all mlj, and I’m very happy with that haha

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

word count \ 3.7k | fluff & stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[luveline]

Please a Hotch (new girl dad LMFAO) little fic where he discovers the joys and wonders of being a girl dad 😭🤍 like dressing up and playing tea party, or ‘honey, what do I put in her hair?? A bow? A ribbon?? A headband?? A clip??’ Or something about their baby girl always running to him when she bumps her head or falls!! I think it would be really cute

“Do you mind?” you ask through giggles. 

Aaron rubs his hand up the length of your stomach. It tickles in a strange way, but you’re laughing because he’s cornered you on the couch. He takes up the entirety of your view, the air hot between your close faces. 

“No,” he says simply. He has big hands, warm hands. They leave heat in their wake where they touch you. 

“No, come on. I can’t see Jane.” You’re mostly kidding. You really can’t see Jane, but she’s about three feet away, and your living room is baby proofed.

Aaron peeks behind his shoulder. His smile says more than words —he must have caught her smiling herself. “You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Okay. Okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay, I’m just giving mommy some kisses.” Aaron strokes your stomach with a loving thumb. “You want to come over here for a cuddle?” 

Jane doesn’t answer. Aaron turns back to you with a glowing smile. “She’s very happy. Now let me kiss you–” You’re laughing again as he kisses you, your cheek, the high point and the end of your brow. 

“I can’t believe you’ve cornered me,” you say, nudging him away to hold his face in your hands. “It’s too warm in here for this, you need to give me some space.”

“I don’t want space from you,” he jokes, matching your playful tone.

“Daddy!” Jack calls from somewhere deeper in the house. “I need help!”

“With what?” he calls, sitting up and away from your touch. He squeezes your leg as he leaves, his voice echoing against the hallway walls, “Jack? What’s the problem, buddy?” 

He waits for an answer he doesn’t get before heading upstairs. You weren’t lying when you said it was too hot for kisses —the winter chill is pervasive and Jane is vulnerable to the cold, so the heat is high and the Hotchner boys are pink in the cheeks every time you see them. You fan your face, tracking Jane’s clumsy waddling as she ferries a pink teddy bear next to her baby doll beside the picnic blanket you’d laid out for her. 

“Having fun, Janey?” you ask. 

“Baba,” she mumbles. 

“Alright, that’s fun. How about I go make us some dinner?” 

“Babababa…” 

“Bababa,” you say back. 

You set about cleaning the mess she’s making before it can explode and prop the door between the living room and the kitchen open to watch her while you peel some potatoes. She plays happily for a while, and upstairs you can hear the celebratory shouts of the boys having figured something out. “Come have some juice before you do the next part,” Aaron says. 

With a sudden bump and a telling silence, Jane falls over. You drop your potatoes and wipe your hands on your front, prepared to sweep her up in your arms and coo away any tears. Her crying rings like a storm siren, so loud you miss the rush of footsteps down the stairs. 

“Baby,” you say softly, holding out your arms as you approach. Aaron and Jack trickle into the room behind her. “Let mommy see? What did you do, huh?” 

She climbs onto her feet. You don't even realise she’s looking away from you until she’s running at her father’s legs, completely ignoring your offered embrace. “Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron says, bending down to meet her. “What did you do? You hurt yourself? Let me have a look. Let me see.” 

Your chest is a pit, that falling feeling as though you’ve missed a step, but the open joy on Aaron’s face soothes any jealousy quickly. “What did you do?” he asks again, lifting his head to accommodate her little body as she wraps her arms and legs around him. He picks her up. She looks small under his chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Jack weaves around him to hug your thigh. “Did she fall?” he asks. 

He can come to you for anything, big or small, just like Jane can go to her father. You ruffle his soft hair with a smile. “She’s just shocked when things don’t feel nice because she’s so little. It probably didn’t hurt very much, okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Don’t listen to mommy,” Aaron murmurs, patting what looks like the entire span of Jane’s back with a barely opened palm, “I’m sure it hurt lots and lots.” 

“Dad,” she mumbles tearily.

Aaron gives you the look. One he does all too often when he’s feeling grateful for the things he has, his brow pinched into a gentler furrow than usual. “I know, honey. That floor is so mean, always hurting you. I think we should get some soft carpets instead, what do you think?” 

Jack tugs on your hand. “Can you make me some apple juice, please? I think he will be here for a while.” 

You’re thinking there’ll be carpets fitted in here within the month. “Sure, babe. You wanna help me make some French fries?” 

[heartkaji]

‪‪❤︎‬ TEEN ROMANCE !

(n) — bllk boys & their kind of love. includes : isagi yoichi, reo mikage , nagi seishiro , oliver aiku

ISAGI YOICHI ! — romeo & juliette.

dating yoichi is sweat-soaked skin pressed against sweat-soaked skin on the mink fur rug of your bedroom floor carpet. isagi is yawn slash yearning—he kisses you silly with honey on his tongue & your back pressed against your bedroom floor with thighs wrapped around like ivy on his waist. there are bruises on your neck & cherry lipstick stains his cheeks & every minute or two you have to pull away because ‘i swear i hear my mom coming up the stairs.’ even so he nibbles at your neck & traces comets on your skin because ‘don’t worry pretty, she’ll never find us out.’ your heart’s in your throat & you swear the footsteps are getting louder but all you can do is swallow your chest & pray. you hug yoichi a little tighter because unlike romeo & juliet, your story will not end in split hearts & summertime sadness.

REO MIKAGE ! — skin & a country club

super rich kids make nothing but fake friends but the ghost of reo’s lips on yours is oh-so-sloppy yet oh-so-real. his mouth tastes like raspberry syrup & strawberry chambourd & when his palms slip below the seam of your skirt you think he is grace. you know that once the party’s over & it’s time to leave the yacht you’ll go back from star crossed lovers to trust fund babies who long for something more than riches & bloodline; so you tug at his hair & guide his hold to your hips in hopes he’ll hold you tighter & never let you go.

NAGI SEISHIRO ! — lovelorn lethargy

nagi seishiro is lazy lover & lazy kisses & lazy touch on your waist, neck, everywhere. he smells like sea foam deluxe & cotton elixir but you want to crush his bloody throat between your palms because ’one more round angel, i swear it.’ it was one more round thirty minutes ago / an hour ago / an hour and a half ago & you’re only a girl so you’ve decided you’ve suffered enough. you have your coat on your shoulders & mary janes grace your feet & you’re about to leave but your waist feels warm & there’s a weight on your neck—‘m’sorry bunny, i’m all done now, yeah ?’

OLIVER AIKU ! — sex & a daydream

last week he left scars on your back / this week he left scars on your neck / next week he’ll leave scars on your heart. you hate aiku & his smart mouth but you love the way it swells & blossoms with peach smeared lip stick when you bite his lip & kiss him silly. aiku is fox teeth ripping through peach flesh—he tastes like brown sugar & warm honey in a wheat field but you can smell carolina herrera & you know it’s not yours. your heart bleeds up your throat & you should push him away but his hand’s in your hair & his palms grip your knees. you’ve got all the time in the world—you might as well kiss him now & curse him later.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

[midnightorchids]

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting. 

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more. 

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it. 

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself. 

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey. 

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped. 

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

-

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

-

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

-

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

-

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER TWELVE // LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE 

series mlist 

Tags — reader believes she isn’t fit for love lol, short chapter again, can you tell I’m sick of writing this series, no smau  Words — 0.7k 

Deep in your soul, you always knew something about you was… wrong.

From the moment you were old enough to look in the mirror and see the hollowness of what stared back, you made a promise to cover it up. You smiled at people in the street, bounced around in your pretty pink skirts and your Mary Jane’s, desperate to fill that gaping hole inside by overflowing it with honey. You told everyone that your favourite holiday was Valentine’s Day, you scribbled messy hearts into the empty space in your worksheets, even when you felt as if you lacked one of your own. 

Some might say you were the love you yearned for, but nobody had any idea how difficult love came to you. It barely came at all. 

Your head whipped around just a little too fast to be casual when a voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. 

“You okay?” 

Toge’s voice was gentle, not pushy, but like a humble offering of a chance to respond. He tried to sound casual because he knew he didn’t have much of a right to question you, not after your recent misunderstanding, but the furrow in his brows told you enough. Toge always cared, maybe even too much. He cared about everyone, but he always had a special sort of concern for you. Why? He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it surely had to do with the warmth in his chest every time you were near. 

You nodded. “Mhm.. yeah, sorry. I just zoned out.” 

He mirrored your action, though unconvinced. It gnawed at him inside, every passing second a chance for the grimness to consume him. He turned his gaze back to the movie in front of you, trying to pay at least an ounce of attention to the plot, but your inner monologue radiated from you and loomed over him like a shadow. 

He glanced at you again, suddenly feeling nervous. His hands twitched and ached to reach out to you, but he had to hold them back. Not yet. He wasn’t deserving of that yet. He still had to win back your trust, to crack away at the boulder chained to him by the ankle. Even if you forgave him, the impact of his foolishness wasn’t nearly as merciful. It lingered, whispering recounts of that night into his ear when he least expected it. 

Your eyes caught on the fidgeting of his hands. Toge wasn’t all that hard to read, not once you got close enough. That flicker in his violet eyes was clear as day, may as well have been loud as a firework. 

Your fingers crawled over the space between you, inching closer. They slipped into his, slotting in like this was nothing other than a reunion of two halves. He glanced to you, shoulders easing just barely. He let out a breath, and he looked back at the screen. 

Your hand was squeezed reassuringly in his, just a silent reminder of his presence. It made your pulse quicken, your heart race faster than sound itself. It was a reminder that you had one at all. 

Love never came easily to you, but Toge was more than a four letter word, more than the butterflies in your stomach and giddiness that pulled at your lips. He flowed into your heart like the smooth breeze of a summer night, seeing the fragile girl before him and inviting her in anyway. 

He looked at you again, a shaky breath leaving him as he braced himself for an impact that had already came and went. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know technically…” 

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I know you’re sorry. I forgive you. You don’t have to do any grand gestures, just… just stay with me for now.” 

Just stay. Just prove you’re here to do so, prove you aren’t the fleeting memory of a night at the bar. Prove you’re more than one love song. 

You caught a glimpse of his eyes before you pulled away in cowardice, but the soft, compliant twinkle in his eyes was burned into your mind. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll stay.” 

The end is near and I’m sorry it’s been so shitty lately, I’ve been sick and unmotivated and just trying to get this series over with <\3

I’ve given up can you tell I’m sorry to the people that like this series because I DONT … lol I appreciate the love and support so much obviously I love u all so bad, that’s why I’m so sorry like actually

Taglist — closed 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @yatiimariiee @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀ ౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess⠀♡⠀𝓒hapter 𝓢even ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀your friends decide to go to the fair and you invite miguel, spending time with him. while indulging in fun, someone from miguel’s past comes in to ruin it.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀fluff, angst, tension, swearing, derogative terms, shaming, sexual remarks, mild physical violence

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

“he did what now?!”

lyla and mj said in unison.

you tell them about the whole joel shitshow. they knew about him and your relationship. oh they hate him as much as you do. thankfully, they never met him or else you believe they would kick his ass and honestly you would allow them to.

when you mention miguel stepping in, both women have mischievous smirks on their faces.

“oh so your prince charming came to your rescue, how adorable.” lyla teases.

your expression falls flat. “cállete. he was just concerned, nothing else.”

“but it’s kinda like that though, your charming prince rescuing you from a monster.”

you roll your eyes.

joel is no doubt a monster, though.

“i always knew there is something going on between you two.” mary jane adds in.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

both of them give you a deadpan look.

“honey, i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that night at the bar, he couldn’t stop looking at you as if you were the most prettiest being in the world. also not to mention how many times he offered to help you. giving you a ride home, fixing your sink and bookshelf, now helping you telling your ex to fuck off. the man is head over heals for you.”

you stare at her, speechless. her words sinking in, each of those moments flashing through your mind. you did feel his eyes on your the entire time at the bar, making you nervous and bashful. his sweet offers for fixing things with no payment. it makes your heart flutter. the man is truly a sweetheart. every time you walk by your bookshelf, you get flashbacks of miguel fixing it. it always leaves a smile on your face, heart fluttering at the memory.

him standing by your side while confronting joel, providing safety, protection, and support. never felt so much relief when he showed up. not to mention how attractive it was seeing miguel so firm and authoritative. those military tactics were kicking in.

everything this man has done for you leaves you speechless yet swoon over the moon.

is mary jane right?

is miguel truly interested in you like that?

“well… okay yes, he is a sweetheart but i’m not sure he is head over heals for me. he’s probably just being a good neighbor.” your words betray your thoughts.

lyla groans frustratingly and mj facepalms herself.

“girl, the MAN IS INTO YOU!” lyla exclaims, hands raised in the air. “these are obvious signs! the man’s love language is acts of service, pun intended.”

“okay, listen…” mj starts. “peter and i were thinking of going to coney island with the group. how about you invite miguel to come with us? yes, he’s friends with peter and peter probably already or will ask him but if you ask him, he’ll 100% say yes.”

“it’s a perfect opportunity for you two to hangout someplace else besides your apartment. go on rides together and play games. he might even win you something.” lyla wiggles her eyebrows teasingly.

you roll your eyes again at her last comment, lightly nudging her arm which causes her to giggle. trying to hide your smile at the thought of miguel winning some type of prize for you at the park. although, you can’t ignore the heat slowly rising in your cheeks.

“you guys are really trying to set up a date for me?” you across your arms, leaning back in the chair.

“yep!” they say in unison with proud smiles.

another eye roll, finally smiling. “i hate you guys.”

the three of you laugh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

returning from your girls day out, you catch miguel exiting his apartment. the same black duffel bag over his bulky shoulder. a black tank top with a navy blue hoodie over it and a pair of gray sweatpants.

jesus, he looks fine as hell.

you approach him with a smile. heart fluttering up when he notices you and returns the same smile. but you miss the way his eyes widen a bit as he glances downward towards your outfit. a pretty lavender sundress with a matching bow in your hair.

miguel is mesmerized, enchanted.

you always bewitched him with your beauty and lovely sense of style. it’s not often he sees you in a dress, a sundress more or less, because you’re usually dressed in business attire like blouses with pencil skirts or pants. casual clothing when it’s your day off. but a sundress? it takes his breath away.

it makes him wonder what got you dolled up for. did you hang out with family or friends? was it a special occasion? did you went on a date?

for some reason, the thought of you going on a date creates an unsettling sensation in his chest. miguel shouldn’t feel this way. you’re his neighbor, nothing more than that… right? there’s definitely nothing with you going on a date. you’re an amazing, beautiful person. anyone is luckly to go on a date with you.

but the thought of someone seeing you so dolled up stills makes his chest ache in a strange way.

why is he feeling like this?

he shouldn’t.

he shouldn’t feel his heart beating faster whenever he sees you returning home from work or walking luna outside. or when you standing so close to him, making his palms sweaty and face warming up.

totally nothing… right?

“hey. going to the boxing gym?” you ask, smiling.

“yeah. you look… nice. a special occasion?”

really, nice?

miguel wants to facepalm himself. nice isn’t enough or justifiable for describing how beautiful you look in that sundress. gotta get his shit together.

although, he can’t deny the desperation to know the reason for looking so pretty today. not saying that you don’t look pretty all the time, you do.

“girls day out with my friends.”

that unsettling feeling vanishes, a big wave of relief coursing through him. it wasn’t a date after all.

“lavender looks pretty on you.”

both your cheeks warm up from the compliment. miguel flushed as hell for speaking his thought out loud. you feeling flustered by his sweet words.

there he goes again making your heart flutter.

“thanks.” you smile bashfully.

now suddenly your feel nervous. it’s time to ask him, invite him to come with you to coney island. why are you nervous? it’s just a simple question. you’re simply asking your neighbor, and friend, if he’s willing to go to the park with you and your friends. simple question and easy to ask, right?

so why is your heart suddenly beating rapidly in your chest? why are your palms now slightly sweaty? why is your body literally on fire right now?

it’s a simple question, just do it!

“so uh - i don’t know if peter asked you this already but um…” you awkwardly clear your throat. “do you… do you wanna come with us to coney island?”

god you sound awkward as hell. you can’t believe how stupid you probably sound.

but the smile on miguel’s face says otherwise.

“i would love to.”

a feeling of relief washes over you. “cool.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

the park is full like usual. a never ending sea of people roaming around the park. the colorful attractions and vibrant lights illuminating each inch of the park. laughter and screams filling the atmosphere, sounds of enjoyment.

the weather seems to be nice, between high 60s and low 70s. you settle on a white turtleneck crop top and a brown pleaded mini skirt with black tights and comfortable shoes since you’d be walking around a lot. since it’s autumn and halloween around the corner, you want to match theme and spirit. when miguel first saw you while waiting outside your door, his pupils dilate drastically. miguel swore an angel was approaching him. you look breathtaking in that cute outfit. the colors makes your appearance so cozy. how the tights perfectly captures the curves of your legs. his eyes lingering on them a bit too much. warmth rose up to his cheeks.

still manage to snatch his breath.

“you look beautiful.”

your cheeks warmed from his sweet compliment, heart fluttering in your chest.

“thanks.” you bashfully smile.

with your friend group, you venture through the park. it was peter, mary jane, eddie and shockingly anne. you recall eddie telling you about their reconnection lately. it’s nice to see them together, even as friends. harry couldn’t come because he had a business trip to attend, the rich bastard he is but you love him.

miguel remains by your side as you walk around. your hands would accidentally brush against each other, sending jolts through both your bodies. you apologize the first few times but eventually stop since you continue doing it. neither of you minded. he still remains glued to your side while waiting in line for rides. more so you both glued together.

miguel was hesitant at first about rides due to his tall and bulky structure. you and the group reassure him it’s totally fine but ultimately understand his concern. although, he was able to go on most rides. most times you two would ride together but sometimes you would sit with mj or anne to mix things up. he wasn’t fond of sitting next to peter, considering how of much the man screams and takes a million selfies before and during the ride. eddie isn’t that bad but miguel prefers riding with you.

he adores seeing you smiling, laughing on rides. how happy you look. the joyful screams that sound like music to his ears. never he would thought a sound would make his heart swoon. he recalls you saying you’re a roller coaster person, you were definitely not lying. miguel adored watching you having fun. it’s a sight he loves to see, it brings a smile to his face.

after a good amount of rides, it’s time to grab some food. there is a corn dog stand nearby. you’re about to get in line when miguel steps in front of you, making you smile confusingly at him.

“i can order for the both of us.” he sweetly offers.

“no, it’s okay. i got it.” you softly decline.

“i don’t want you waiting in line for a while. it’s a pretty long line.” he gestures at the line, consisting more than 15 people. “i can take care of it.”

god, this man is too sweet.

“you drove here, the least i can do is pay for food.”

you want to be fair and miguel knows that. you’re so sweet and considerate. but he feels guilty for making you stand in a long line for simple corn dogs.

“at least let me wait here with you.”

your heart flutters at the suggestion.

“alright, but if i see that wallet of yours, i’m sending you back to the table.” you tease.

miguel chuckles. “alright, lo prometo.”

after a long wait, chitchatting to kill time, you finally get your corn dogs. miguel was thinking of slipping his card over the counter but decided to respect your wishes. just this once, he thought to himself.

you return to the group at the table with all your individual choices of food. afterwards, you all collectively agree to get pizza as dinner.

after devouring the delicious pizza, you decide to play a couple of games and try to win some prizes. peter wins mary jane a stuffed bunny with a pink bow. eddie fails to make any rings in water bottles. surprisingly, anne manages to get them all, leaving eddie impressed standing there like a fool. you win yourself a tiny plushie of gary from spongebob. you wanted it since you first laid your eyes on it.

wondering around the various games and prizes, a pink butterfly plushie captures your attention. making you stop in your tracks. it’s so adorable, you never wanted something so badly in your life. well, besides luna. that plushie is absolutely adorable. too bad the game to win it is shooting basketballs. you failed at it in PE back in middle school and high school. there is no way you’d win for sure.

miguel notices your cute expression and an idea pops into his head. making his way over to the game stand, he hands the booth guy a ticket and starts playing the game. grabbing the ball, he makes the first shot. then the second, third, and fourth.

the group cheers and applaud for him while you stand there visibly impressed. not paying attention to eddie playfully nudging your shoulder.

after thanking the booth guy for handing over the plushie, miguel slowly approaches you with a grin, holding the plushie in his hands. they are just so big, the plushie looks so small in them. he holds out to you, heart beating like a drum.

you stare in awe, fixating between the plushie and miguel. “this is the sweetest thing ever… thank you.” you say with a pout, gently taking the plushie from his grasp. the soft, fuzzy material brushing against your fingers. “you didn’t have to…”

“i wanted to, hermosa. i saw how much you loved it so i had to get it for you.” he sheepishly admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

is it possible for your heart to flutter more?

this sweet man.

you smile bashfully, hugging the plushie to your chest. “thank you.”

what you both fail to see is your friends staring in awe of the adorable interaction between you and miguel. they even snapped a few pictures because it’s too cute. you two are too cute.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

after drinking tons of water, you head to the bathroom. miguel offers to wait for you, standing outside as people walk by, arms crossed over his chest. as he waits patiently, he notices someone approaching him. a man with platinum blonde hair, very familiar hair that miguel only knows one other person with the same hair color. his blood suddenly turns cold. thick brows now furrowed.

it’s kron, that asshole of a half-brother.

the devil himself, or actually his offspring damien since tyler isn’t the greatest man ever.

it’s a curse to be related to that son of a bitch. miguel doesn’t even consider kron a brother or family in general. the only connection they have is half their blood coming from the same, real devil himself.

fuck, what is he doing here?

“well, well, well… nice to see solider boy out here having fun instead of killing people.” kron taunts, a smug smile on his face.

miguel’s jaw clenched. “que quieres, kron?”

“oh nothing, nothing.” he lazily raises his hands. “i just was walking around until i saw your bulky ass here. y’know, you suck at trying to blend in. pretending you’re a normal guy but really commits the most brutal things just for stupid badges.”

his blood began to boil in frustration. he does not want to deal with this shit, especially not in public. “look, i know the shit i’ve done and i live with it every damn day.” he learns closer, whispering. “drop it.”

“yeah, the shit you know it’s fucked up, just like it’s fucked up that you got gabriel killed—”

miguel was about to punch kron in the face when you finally return from the bathroom.

“hey, i’m all set.” blissfully unaware of the tension between the two men in front of you.

kron, like the smuggest asshole he is, eyes you up and down. a smug smile on his face, licking his lips. “well… who’s the hottie here?”

you immediately are disgusted by him, especially with that smug attitude. “and you are?”

“kron.” he hands out his hand but you refuse to shake it. he seems unfazed by it, only smiling more. “so this your girl, huh? finally getting some, huh?”

you scoff in disgust and miguel is fuming, growing more infuriated with kron’s stupid behavior.

“leave, kron.” miguel said sternly, stepping in front of you to protect you from this smug bastard.

“whaaat?” he slurs out. “i just wanna know who’s actually willing to let you get your dick wet.”

your mouth drops open in offense.

miguel yanks him by his shirt collar with aggressiveness, eliciting a few gasps from bystanders. “say one more fucking thing and you won’t have that tongue anymore.” his hot, angry breath hitting against his face.

“oh yeah, it’s what you’re good at, huh soldier boy?” kron taunts. “do it, in front of miss hottie right there. she sure has you by the balls.”

just as he’s about to do something ugly, you push the two men apart, stepping in the middle.

“unlike you who won’t have any.”

before he could say something back, you kick kron right in the balls with harsh force. making the idiot groan in pain and crumble to his knees. hands cupping his now fucked up balls.

miguel, on the other hand, is impressed. no, more mesmerized by you. witnessing you kick the shit of his stupid half-brother was fucking incredible. but also impressed you stood up for him.

after informing security of the incident and kron being escorted by them, a big wave of relief washes over you and miguel. the asshole is finally gone.

“i’m so sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” miguel looks at you with a remorseful look. “all the disrespectful comments he said, it was wrong.”

those derogative and disrespectful words towards you made his skin crawl. miguel was about to let go of all his morals and show kron what disrespect looks like but luckily you arrived in time. supposed kron was lucky but next time probably not.

“it’s okay, someone had to shut him up.”

“nice kick.” miguel compliments.

“thanks, i don’t think that asshole would have kids after that. i may sucked at basketball but soccer wasn’t that bad.” both of you laugh as the rest of the friend group rushes over with concern faces.

“hey, you guys okay?” peter asks.

“what happened?” eddie follows up.

“yeah, we’re fine. just some asshole who was bothering us.” miguel explains.

looking past miguel, peter sees security escorting the troubled individual and recognizes him.

“oh shit, is that kron?” he sounds in disbelief. “wow, honestly not surprised it’s him.”

“who’s kron?” mj asks, confused.

“no one—”

“miguel’s stupid half-brother.”

your eyes widen in surprise.

half-brother? that asshole is miguel’s half-brother? now you understand the tension between them. you actually feel bad for miguel being related to him.

you look up at him to see miguel already looking at you, knowing what you’re thinking.

“through my father.” he reveals.

now it makes even more sense.

“like father, like son: major assholes.” peter jokes.

although you’ve never met miguel’s father, nor will ever meet him, by what miguel told you about him and meeting kron, you don’t doubt it.

“well, lets end the night with some fun and not let that asshole ruin it, yeah?” anne suggests.

all of you agree and enjoy the rest of the night playing a few more games and rides.

while waiting in line for one last ride, it starts to feel a bit chilly, causing you to shiver a little. goosebumps forming on your skin. shit, you should’ve brought a cardigan or a flannel, a dumb mistake you made. the fabric material of your turtleneck is thin so the cold breeze flows through very easily. you wrap your arms around yourself, an attempt to warm yourself up but obviously not enough. although, it doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain pair of brown eyes. taking off his leather jacket, miguel offers it to you.

your eyes land on the jacket then up at him. “oh no, it’s okay! i’m fine.” you kindly declined.

“i saw you shivering, please take it.” he pleads.

unable to say no to those eyes, you accept his offer and he helps you put it on. the inside is very warm, the leftover of his body heat. it feels like a jacket heater, very smoothing. you also smell his cologne, musky and rich. smells really damn good. the jacket is very big on you, reaching down passed your knees and the sleeves covering your hands that they barely peak out. the sight puts a smile on miguel’s face. how adorable you look in his jacket, how big it looks draped over your smaller figure.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

you and miguel return home from the amusement park. you recall tonight’s adventure as you make your way to your apartments. trying to not talk or laugh too loud and disturb other neighbors.

as you reach for the door handle of your apartment, you suddenly realize you’re still wearing his jacket.

“wait, i gotta give you this back.” as you go to take off the jacket, his response stops you.

“keep it.”

you look back at him in surprise. “what?”

“keep it, chica.” he chuckles at your expression.

“but it’s yours and i’m not cold anymore. i can’t keep something that isn’t mine.”

“i have other jackets, losing one won’t be the end of the world. don’t feel bad about it.”

“are you sure?…” you ask hesitantly, making sure he is actually allowing you to keep the leather jacket.

“i’m sure, hermosa.” miguel said sincerely, smiling.

but the real reason is that miguel loves seeing you in his jacket - his own clothes.

part of you still feels a little guilty but you believe him. “okay… i promise to take good care of it.”

that elicits another chuckle from him. “alright.”

neither of you realize how close you’re standing towards each other, closer than ever. now you understand why you feel a small burning sensation in the back of your neck because you have to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his eyes. miguel really is a giant. yet, you don’t mind the sight pain.

standing so close to you, miguel can’t help but briefly drop his gaze to your lips. painted with lip gloss, giving it a shiny look. those very same lips that taunt him. as if they were a magnetic force, drawing him in.

should he be looking at your lips?

he should stop but doesn’t. why?

you do the same with his, guilty as charged. plump lips that seem a bit too plump, too kissable.

should you…?

as the both of you slowly, very slowly lean closer towards one another, you back away. you act nonchalant about it and say goodnight to each other before heading into your respective homes.

you hugged your butterfly plushie throughout the entire night, smiling in your sleep as you dream about the memory over and over.

little did you know miguel is having the same dream.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[writtenbymoonflower]

ok so,,,, i love your poly!mauraders fics like sm!!! i’d love to request their getting together story with the reader, like maybe she shares a class with each of them individually or something and they’re already together but they also all end up having a crush on her. feel free to run with this i just adore your writing.

thanks for requesting, lovely! poly!marauders x fem!reader

cw: none

900 words

You looked lost walking into the common room, clutching your book tight. Three heads turned at the sound of your Mary Janes hitting the ground. 

“Y/N! Haven’t seen you all day, where’ve you been runnin’ off to? C’mere, darling!” James opened his arms expectantly. You walked over, letting him hug your hips as you greeted the other boys. You were familiar with the group, sharing a few classes with them. You also ate lunch together every day and spent time in the common room at night. They were always soft and sweet on you, and you on them, you never understood it but you happily accepted. 

It just was difficult for you, because you liked them. You liked them a lot. They plagued your thoughts constantly, and their easy affection did not help the situation. You knew, the whole school knew, that the three boys were dating, they made it very obvious. You knew that you had no chance with them. They were happy and settled. You were happy for them, but it didn’t ease your yearning. You had been avoiding them for the last few days because of it, but they hadn’t made it easy. You winced, knowing that you would have to address your feelings. Sooner, rather than later it seemed.

“Hi!” You said shyly to the three boys, smiling. 

“You look really nice today, love.” Remus said, not hiding how his eyes raked your form. Your whole body heated, looking away from him. 

“Thank you,” You leaned more into James, making sure to keep it polite, even as his hands slipped slightly under the hem of your skirt. You pulled away, making James give you a concerned look. 

“You okay, honey?” James looked up at you with his big doe eyes, making your heart clench. 

“Yeah I’m okay, I just… I just need to talk to you guys.” You moved to be away from them, sitting in front of the couch they were all strewn across. 

“Okay,” Remus said, skeptically, setting his book down. Sirius fixed his gray eyes on you in a way that made you want to run away. 

“Okay,” You repeated, mentally preparing yourself for the (likely horrible) outcome.

“You don’t gotta be nervous, dolly.” Sirius said, much more softly than usually. “It’s just us.”

Yeah, it’s you three. You thought. 

“Okay, so, I know that we spend a lot of time together, and we are all friends. And I know that you three are like, together together.” You braced. They all looked confused but didn’t say anything. “I just um… well, I’ve developed some feelings for you three, and believe me, I tried. I tried to make them go away, I just, can’t I guess.” You started to tear up, looking down at your lap so they wouldn’t see. “Anyway, I’m really sorry if that makes things weird, I just… thought you should know.” You trailed off, shredding your cuticles from your anxious fidgeting. Sirius coughed out a laugh, making you inhale sharply. 

“Um, babe… we know. You thought we didn’t?” He asked, humor tilting his voice. You felt your heart sink. Had they all known and were making fun of you for it? You heard a book hit Sirius’ chest.

“Christ, Pads. Are you helping or are you hurting?” Remus scolded. “Y/N, dovey. We know, and the reason Sirius reacted like that,” He said accusatively at the dark-haired boy. “Is because, well, we thought that you knew that we know.” 

“And,” James cut in. “We thought that you knew we felt the same way.” He said, sounding confused. 

“Yeah,” Sirius’ voice was still tinged with humor. “Babe, I know that we haven’t really talked about it, but I thought you knew, you’re with us.” Tears just streamed further down your face, all the emotions catching up to you. You were not only relieved, but happily confused. You wiped your eyes. You looked up at them. 

“Oh,” You said, “I- I didn’t know that. I’m happy! I just thought you didn’t like me like that.” James looked appalled. 

“Shit, angel, are you crying?” He sounded horrified. “Come here.” You scrambled over to him, letting him pull you into his lap sideways while Sirius leaned over to wipe your eyes. 

“Baby,” Sirius laughed pitifully. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“It’s okay, I’m just relieved. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me after this.” 

“Sweetheart,” James said miserably. “We all really, really like you. Do you think we would’ve been this sweet to you if we didn’t? Is this your way of telling us we need to up our game?” He laughed. 

“No! I’m just stupid.” You laughed wetly. 

“You’re not stupid,” Remus looked at you scoldingly. “We just didn’t communicate. So, Y/N, we all really like you, and we want to be with you, the way we are with each other.” He looked deep into your eyes, amber irises swimming with fondness. “How does that sound to you?” 

“I would really like that.” You said shyly, leaning into James. He wrapped you up tighter. 

“Aw, sweet girl. I’m sorry you were so worried.” James cooed. You boldly touched James’ face, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

“It’s okay, I know now.” You reassured. Sirius tore you from James’ grasp. 

“Okay, my turn!” He kissed your forehead with a loud smack. 

You could get used to this.

[wafflefries13]

Rose With(out) Thorns (Riddle x Reader)

Summary: Riddle needs help putting off his mother's plans to set him up for an engagement, so what better way than to fake date NRC's favorite magicless prefect? Things can only go well. (No, they can't.)

AN: Fake dating, yay! Had the idea for this a long while back, finally got around to writing it. And, like most of my fics I'm finding out, it kind of got away from me. I hope at some point, probably some time in book 7 here, we finally get a confrontation with Riddle's mom. I hate Riddle's mom, all the cool bitches I know hate Riddle's mom.

Warnings: Depictions of a toxic family environment, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

When Riddle had pulled (Y/N) aside after classes, she didn’t expect to be sitting in one of Heartstabuyl’s tea rooms, a cooling cup of herbal tea placed in front of her. (Y/N) sipped the tea, observing Riddle. His mouth was pulled into a small frown, eyebrows furrowed in determined concentration. His hands were clasped behind him and he was pacing so much (Y/N) was worried about him wearing a hole in the rug. It had almost seemed like he had forgotten she was there. 

“Riddle?” She prompted gently. 

Riddle jumped, startled. (Y/N) really did think he had forgotten about her. His face turned pink, blushing up to his ears. He cleared his throat, promptly sitting down in the chair across from her.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” He said, swirling a spoonful of honey into his tea. She tried to not take it personally that he wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

“Something going on with Ace and Deuce?” She asked, jumping to the most logical conclusion. “I don’t mind meditating.” 

“No, thankfully, both of them have actually been rather pleasant as of late. This is of a more… personal nature.” 

“Oh? Are you doing okay?” She set her cup down, leaning forward. 

His blush went from gentle pink to strawberry red. “I - ahem, yes, no, I’m fine, it’s not that I don’t - what I mean to say is, ah, well…” Deciding there was no elegant way to put it, Riddle’s shoulders slumped as he stared dejectedly into his tea. “It’s my mother.” 

(Y/N) immediately tensed. “Oh.” 

The last time (Y/N) had thought about Riddle’s mother was when he was about to leave for winter break. She remembered how quiet he had been, not even bothering to reprimand the excited first years running around the mirror chamber like excited kids. (Y/N) had taken advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch his phone from his dazed hands and entered her number. 

“In case you need anything,” She had said. “Or, you know, you just miss me too much and want to say hi.” 

He really did blush way too easily. 

Of course, any plans for talking on the phone were quickly eliminated by the events at Scarabia. When (Y/N) finally did get her phone back, she found a couple of missed calls and overly formal texts from Riddle’s number, buried in between the frantic messages from Ace and Deuce responding to her SOS. 

Back in the tea room, (Y/N) set her cup down, leaning forward to meet Riddle’s eyes. “Hey,” She said gently. “You know if I can do anything for you I will.” 

“It’s not that easy,” He said. “My mother asked me to come home for the long weekend coming up. And I highly suspect she wants me there to… try and arrange a match.” 

“A match? Wait, like getting engaged? Aren’t you kind of young for that?” 

Riddle shrugged. “It would definitely be a long engagement, but it’s not uncommon to have a match set up years in advance, especially between prominent families like mine.” 

“How very Jane Austen.” 

“Sorry?” 

“An author from my world, she wrote romances. Anyway, sorry, keep going.” 

“Well, I agree that it seems soon. To be fair, Mother was trying to set something up before I came to Night Raven College as well. Being accepted to such a prestigious magic school only elevated my prospects, as she put it. She wants to establish a solid match with another high ranking family, setting my future in stone. Especially after everything that happened at the beginning of the year.” They were both quiet for a moment, fighting off memories of Riddle’s Overblot. “I…” Riddle continued. “I don’t think anyone back home knows.” 

“Oh. Well, it’s like personal medical information, right? Even if it’s magical or whatever it’s still your mental health. You don’t owe anyone that.” 

“I don’t think that’s why she hasn’t told anyone. I know it might be hard for you to believe after everything that’s happened this year, but Overblots are still considered rare. Not many survive the process. And those that do, well, they aren’t looked upon as kindly as you’ve looked upon us.” 

(Y/N) set her cup down hard. “That’s not fair! It’s not some moral failing. You and everyone else were - are - dealing with really tough emotions! It’s not right to just ignore trauma and your feelings, that’s what led to everything happening in the first place!” 

“I’m glad you see it that way. And, if I’m being honest, public perception of the emotional stress that can lead to an Overblot and those who make it through the process are gradually being seen with more sympathy. Like you said, it’s a mental health issue at the core. But older communities like the one I grew up in are slower to accept new social views.”  

(Y/N) sat back. “I’m sorry, Riddle. That sounds really hard.” 

“Thank you,” Riddle breathed. He cleared his throat. “Well, that sort of awkwardly leads to what I was wanting to ask you in the first place.” He cleared his throat again, nervously looking around the room. Finally, steadying himself, he forced himself to meet (Y/N) eyes. “I would like you to come with me and act as my partner.” 

(Y/N) felt her head go light and heart jump. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” 

Riddle’s confidence cracked as he looked away again. “In so many words, yes.” 

“Wow. Forget Jane Austen, this is more Meg Ryan territory.” Riddle blinked. “Never mind, forget it. I mean, not what you’re talking about, just, it’s not what I was expecting you to say.” 

“It’s not the most conventional request, to be fair. But I’ve turned this over in my head for days and I can’t see any way out of it. My plan is to show I’m taken, dissuade the marriage market. It will be one less thing for Mother to hold over my head. I’ll probably have to deal with it eventually when I graduate but I don’t even want to consider getting engaged right now, for economic, political, or whatever other reason. I’ve never been overly fond of the prospects my mother has introduced anyway. Not that I want to pressure you or anything! I completely understand if you wouldn’t feel comfortable for any reason and I completely respect your decision-” 

“Well, hey, don’t answer for me, now.” (Y/N) reached forward and touched the back of Riddle’s hand, jolting him out of the spiral he was throwing himself in. He jumped at the contact. “It’s unorthodox, but since when has anything here been orthodox? Of course I’ll help, Riddle. I can’t guarantee I’ll be very good at it, but I’ll do my best.” 

Riddle blinked at her for a moment, registering her words, then the tension practically floated off his shoulders. “That’s - that’s great, thank you.” 

“Hey, what are friends for? Besides, this will make a great story to tell the guys later.” 

Riddle scowled, blushing again. “Don’t.” 

~~~

A few days later, (Y/N) and Riddle stood in the mirror chamber. They had come up with a cover to tell everyone while they were gone. Since (Y/N) technically didn’t exist in Twisted Wonderland, not having any government papers or even a birth certificate, Riddle suggested they visit Dinah, the capital city of the Queendom of Roses and his home city, to petition at an official government building for temporary citizenship.  It was really only a half truth. If they had time between the deception, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try. 

Grim was staying at Heartstabuyl with Ace and Deuce, although it would be more accurate to say with Trey, since he was clearly the one in charge while the House Warden was away. 

“And make sure to do that reading for History of Magic,” (Y/N) was saying, fiddling with Grim’s bow and magestone. “I marked the pages and put highlight tabs on the parts you need to take notes on. And don’t eat too many sweets, you’ll give yourself a stomach ache again. And don’t stay up too late or else you won’t have the energy to do anything during the day and you’ll throw off your whole sleep schedule. And-” 

“Mrow!” Grim cried, batting her hands away. “I get it, I get it! I’m not a little kid, you know!” 

(Y/N) smiled softly, scratching behind his ears. “Of course I know. You’re a big full grown dire beast who doesn't need anyone to take care of you. Why, I bet when I come back you won’t need me to cook for you anymore or make sure you wake up on time. You probably don’t even want a souvenir!” 

“No, no! I like your cooking! And you better bring me something back, henchhuman!” 

“Of course, Grim.” 

Like a parent sending their child to school for the first time, (Y/N) and Grim detangled themselves from each other. Grim floated back with Ace and Deuce, who also required promises of souvenirs, and gave a final wave. (Y/N) waved back before stepping through the mirror portal after Riddle, luggage in hand. 

There was always a strange feeling when going through the mirror, far spaces being squished together in a more convenient and transversable state. If (Y/N) hadn’t already been dragged underwater to swim through the depths unbothered, she would have compared it to being surrounded by water. Instead, she would more closely compare it the moments after a fall or jump, when totally suspended in the air with no tether. A slight jolt of the stomach at first, a feeling of weightlessness, a rush of cold along the spine, and then they were there. 

(Y/N) still wasn’t completely sure how the mirror portal worked, or how it chose where to deposit someone, considering there wasn’t always a mirror on the other end. She knew it had something to do with the magestones NRC students wore on their armband, and that it helped to leave and come back from the same place, but other than that it was just another magic mystery she didn’t want to think too hard about. 

(Y/N) shook her head as she stepped from the portal back on solid ground. Bright sunlight warmed her skin as she blinked and looked around. (Y/N)’s first impression of Dinah was a memory of a picturesque depiction of Victorian London. The street in front of them was wide, paved in even brick. There were store fronts painted in bright warm colors with big display windows, buildings stacked high with higher chimneys on top. Men and women strolled along the street, seemingly dressed to the nines for a perfectly ordinary outing, with top hats and long coats, bustled dresses in fanciful colors and feather hats. 

A pair of horses pulled a dark blue omnibus carriage down the street, hooves making a pleasant ‘clip-clop’ sound as they meandered. It made (Y/N) wonder about the technological advancements of Twisted Wonderland, not for the first time. She had remembered how surprised she had been to see that cars existed in Sunrise City, when previously the only methods of transportation she had seen had been brooms, ghostly carriages, boats, and mirror portals. She frowned at the memory of Leona teasing her about her surprise. 

“We have our own carriage,” Riddle told her, mistaking her expression as she watched the omnibus. “Mother sent it to collect us. It should be here - ah, there.” Riddle lifted his hand in greeting to the approaching carriage. 

A white horse pulled a ruby carriage with a stenciled rose against a six-pointed starburst emblazoned on the doors. There were two men in stately red velvet livery on the carriage, one at the front, flicking the reins and lazily holding a horse whip, and the other holding on the back above the wheels. As they pulled along the sidewalk, the driver nodded and the footman jumped down to formally bow. He lugged their luggage atop the carriage, a barely noticeable judgmental sneer pulling at his mouth as he handled (Y/N)’s. While Riddle’s bag was neat and new, as beautiful as it was practical, (Y/N) had foraged hers from somewhere deep in the depths of Ramshackle dorm, among the abandoned rooms and chests and closets with all manner of ragged treasures. The carriage rocked as they climbed in, sitting on soft overstuffed bench seats facing each other. Riddle knocked against the roof when they were settled and the carriage rumbled forward. 

(Y/N) stared out the window, marveling at everything they passed. “Hey, how far is Trey’s family bakery from here?” She asked. 

“Hmm? Oh, not far, but I’m not sure we’ll have time to go by. I’m not sure Mother would approve of it.” 

(Y/N) turned back to Riddle, noticing how he gazed out the window without really seeing anything. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, knee jittering with nerves.  

She reached a hand forward and touched his jumping knee, causing him to startle. “Hey,” She said softly. “It’s going to be okay. You got me here with you, right? And-” She rummaged through the pocket on her NRC uniform, the most formal attire she had for making a good impression. She pulled out a small Moleskine notebook, proudly displaying it. “I’ve been taking notes! I have a bunch of the Queen of Heart’s rules here. I don’t have nearly as many memorized as you do but I figured a cheat sheet wouldn’t hurt.” 

Riddle looked at the notebook for a second before smiling in relief. “Thank you, (Y/N). I’m sorry, I haven’t been a very good host so far, have I? Especially considering what you’re doing for me.” 

(Y/N) switched sides, landing heavily next to Riddle as the carriage went over a bump. She lightly knocked his arm with the back of her fist. “I told you it’s fine. I’m happy to help out. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so uptight before, and that’s saying something.” 

Riddle frowned. “I’m not uptight.” 

“Sure you’re not, teapot tyrant.” Riddle huffed and turned away. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Seriously, though, are you doing okay?” 

Riddle fiddled with his fingers, choosing his words carefully. “The last time I came home, over winter break, my mother and I… well, it wasn’t a fight, exactly. An argument. That just so happened to lead to raised voices. And some harsh words. And maybe some things that are hard to take back.” 

(Y/N) wasn’t really sure what to say to that. She sat back, focusing on the rumbling of the carriage beneath her. She noticed Riddle fiddling with his fingers again, picking at the skin around his nails.  She slid her hand into his, holding it tight between them. She stared straight ahead, ignoring Riddle’s look of shock, no matter how cute his rising blush made him look. She squeezed his hand once, looking out her window. Riddle watched her face in profile, feeling the warmth of her hand in his, their shoulders occasionally bumping each other with the rocking of the carriage. He turned back to his own window, squeezing back.  

A short while later, the carriage pulled in front of an elaborate townhouse. It had a beautiful red brick facade with white trimming around the windows and door. Ivy climbed elegantly up one side of the building There was a waist high black wrought iron fence around the perimeter, and the small yard in front was studded with blooming red rose bushes with butterflies elegantly flitting from flower to flower. And, while it was undoubtedly beautiful and picture perfect, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a little put off by the whole image. It seemed too perfect, not a blade of grass out of place or a bruised petal. Even the butterflies felt like they were on a preapproved flight path. Despite the fresh air outside, it was stifling. 

As the footman on the carriage unloaded their bags, (Y/N) made a move to pick hers up, only for a valet to swoop in and effortlessly scoop up both bags. He turned and marched back through a door that seemed to shimmer out of nowhere, disappearing behind the ivy when he went through it. 

“A servant’s entrance,” Riddle told her. “There are several through the house. It helps keep everyone separated.” 

“I could have gotten my stuff,” She said. “It’s heavy.” 

“You’re a guest. It would be impolite to expect you to carry your own things.” 

A man in a crisp black suit with a gold pocket watch dangling from the front breast pocket opened the door, bowing low with a hand on his chest. “Welcome back, Master Riddle.” He said. The man looked up, sweeping a quick but appraising look over (Y/N). “And this is Miss (Y/N)?” 

“Yes, hello!” (Y/N) greeted, smiling brightly. She walked forward, taking hold of the man’s hand and with both of hers and shaking it. She missed the choking gasp Riddle let out behind her. “Just (Y/N) is fine. It’s so nice to meet you! This is a lovely home. I’ve never been to Dinah before, everything is so beautiful! I’ve only been to the Queendom of Roses once before, in this place called Clocktown for a festival, but it’s so much different here.” 

The butler nearly reared back at her greeting, going stiff as a board, but too polite to all together flinch and snatch his hand back. He merely retracted his hand, looked once at Riddle, then gazed straight ahead impassively. “Yes, well, welcome to the Rosehearts townhome. I hope you… enjoy your stay, Miss (Y/N).” 

(Y/N), determined to push through the awkwardness she could sense building, replied chipperly, “Thanks!” And strode inside without looking back. 

“Thank you, Edgar,” Riddle said as the butter closed the door behind them. “Do you know when Mother and Father will be home?” 

“Dr. Rosehearts was called in for a last minute surgery and I believe Mr. Rosehearts is at his club. They both planned to be home for dinner to meet you and your… guest.” 

The only way (Y/N) could think to describe the townhouse was grand. A grand sweeping staircase to the second floor, marble flooring of black and white checkered tile, two rooms on either side of the entrance hall stuffed with comfortable furniture with lace, one room farther to the back half-hidden behind the staircase, and decorative oil paintings. 

“Wow,” She said. “This is where you grew up?” 

“Partially, yes,” Riddle said. “We have a country estate as well, but the hospital is in town and Mother always wanted to be present for the social season.” 

“Ooh, a country estate and the social season. Look at you, sounding all fancy.” 

“Well, excuse me for being raised in polite society, unlike some people.” 

“Hey!” (Y/N) laughed, playfully shoving him as he grinned back. 

Riddle’s eyes cut back to Edgar the butler, watching the two of them with a critical eye and raised eyebrow. Riddle cleared his throat and schooled his face back to a serious expression. “I’ll show you your room, (Y/N). It’s upstairs.” 

“Was it too much?” (Y/N) asked as they ascended the staircase, out of ear shot from Edgar. “I was trying to make a good impression.” 

“People don’t tend to be as friendly with strangers here,” He said. “When you meet my parents it would be better to wait for them to act first.” 

“So no big hug?” She laughed at Riddle’s glare. “Don’t worry, I’ll be picture perfect polite tonight. I know it’s important to you.” 

“Thank you. To be honest I still feel awkward about all of this.” “I could say ‘what are friends for’ but I think we’re a little past that. It’s not like I’m getting nothing out of this. This place is like a fancy hotel!” She pushed open the door to her room, bright with the sunlight streaming in across a bed with a large fluffy white duvet across it. (Y/N) spun around, falling against the bed with a ‘poof’ of the down feather pillows. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so soft,” She sighed. Suddenly she sat straight up. “Oh, oh! Show me your room!” 

“What?” 

She jumped up, taking his hand and pulling him back down the hall. “Come on, let me see your room! I want to see what you’re like when you're not at school.” 

“Much the same, I promise.” 

His eyes cut to a door down the hall and (Y/N) grinned wickedly. Ignoring Riddle’s sound of protest, she threw open his door. 

She faltered a bit as she looked inside, stomach squeezing with that same unease she felt from outside. Spartan wouldn’t be the right way to describe Riddle’s childhood bedroom. Sure, there was plenty of stuff in it, a neatly made bed, an expensive looking desk with a glass hooded reading lamp, plenty of books filling shelves, and a polished wardrobe. But it felt so bare. It felt more like a catalog picture than someone’s own bedroom they had grown up in. (Y/N) looked back to Riddle, who was looking down as if ashamed, like his room was full of trash rather than uninspiringly neat. 

(Y/N) forced a smile to her face, closing the door. “Well, show me around. Back in my world, houses like these would have a bunch of secret passages, maybe a couple of ghosts. But I guess ghosts aren’t all that unusual here.” 

“I think your home has more ghosts than mine,” Riddle said. “As for secret passages…” 

(Y/N) clapped her hands together. “Yeah?” 

Riddle smiled slyly. “Sorry, none of those either. Unless you’re thinking of servant’s doors, but I don’t think they would appreciate us meddling.” 

“Aw, boo.” 

“No pun intended, I’m sure.” 

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“How about the garden? It’s out back. I’ll have someone bring us tea. It’ll give us a chance to strategize.” 

The garden was nestled in the backyard of the townhome, bordered by high fences separating it from the other townhomes. There were, unsurprisingly, rose bushes in raised wooden boxes. White gravel pathways cut through each of the boxes, strolling under a trellis wound with flowers. To the back of the garden was a small glass greenhouse, filled with different medical herbs and plants along with scientific equipment for study. There was a small table on the back porch underneath a pergola wrapped with ivy. After Riddle gave (Y/N) a tour of the gardens they sat down and a maid brought out a white China teapot, pouring tea into delicate blue and white tea cups. (Y/N) inhaled the steam, letting the warmth and sweet notes of the tea fill her lungs before taking a sip. 

“Thanks!” (Y/N) said to the maid who blinked before bobbing a nod and rushing off. (Y/N) made a note to herself that the servants here had a habit of avoiding eye contact. “Okay,” She said, taking a blueberry scone from a plate the maid brought with the tea. “What’s our game plan?” 

“Well, my mother is obviously the one to impress. I don’t believe Father will have much to say, he usually defers to her. That’s usually a good plan with anything, deferring to her, I mean. Safe topics of conversation include the weather, recent medical innovations, and the health and travel of neighbors. It’s best to avoid personal topics like parliament, gossip, or personal questions. It’s also best to avoid discussing novels, Mother says they fill one’s head with fanciful ideas and nonsense.” 

“Okay, so when would be the best time to brag about you?” 

Riddle’s teacup clattered against the saucer. “What?” 

“Well, you’re my fake boyfriend and I’m trying to look good in front of your mom, so it makes sense if I talk you up, right? Like how you’re a great dorm leader, that dressage stuff you’ve been doing in the equestrian club, how you’ve been helping other students study. Cater told me about how you set up a Magicam account just to help him study, that was super cute.” 

“I’m, ah, not actually supposed to have a Magicam account, educational or otherwise, so it’s probably best not to bring that up. Mother says social media rots your brain.” 

“I mean, sometimes, yeah, but it can be fun too. And I know you still post sometimes. I follow you.” 

“You do?” 

“Of course I do! Those study tips didn’t just help Cater. Plus I like to see what’s going on with you. Not that you post stuff very often or anything, but I did like that picture from the last Unbirthday Party with those cupcakes you made.” 

Riddle waved her praise off. “They weren’t anything special. Most of the frosting was smudged all together anyway.” 

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. You don’t have to be perfect at everything, especially the first time around. And I thought they were cute.” She fished her phone out of her pocket, quickly swiping to the picture they were talking about on Magicam. It was a close up of Riddle, smiling, face smeared with red frosting. Trey was caught mid-laugh, handing him a napkin. Ace’s hand was blurred with movement in the lower right edge, having snagged a cupcake from the tray Riddle was holding, covered with cartoon rose dotting liners. It was obvious that the red and white frosting on top was meant to replicate delicate rose petals, and while some of them looked presentable, most had been piped with a shaky hand, leaving too much or too little frosting for the petals. “See? Cute.” 

Riddle’s hand darted forward to push the phone down. “Yes, sure, fine, you made your point! I knew I should have taken that down.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

Riddle sighed, accepting defeat. “Fine, yes, just don’t bring it up at dinner.” 

“If you don’t mind me saying, it doesn't seem like there’s a lot of wiggle room for conversation here. What do you usually talk about when you come home?” 

Riddle took another sip of tea. “My studies, mostly. Class rankings, the local social season, applying for medical colleges, that sort of thing.” 

“What about your friends at NRC? Or all the weird and exciting stuff that happens? Like when we all went to the ghost realm at Halloween, or Fluer City at Halloween? Wow, a lot of crazy stuff happens around Halloween, huh?” 

“That’s all superfluous. My grades and plans for the internship fourth year are more important.” 

“Riddle.” (Y/N) reached across the table, taking Riddle’s hand. “That stuff is still important, you know. We’ve gone through a lot of crazy stuff, a lot of it dangerous and scary. It’s okay to talk about that. There’s life outside of classrooms.” 

Riddle looked away but squeezed her hand. “I know. And I’m getting there, with priorities and understanding others. But this sort of thing is important to her. And I still want to impress her, to have her be proud of me. Despite everything.” 

(Y/N) pressed her lips together. She wanted to say something supportive, something wise, something to make everything better. But nothing seemed right, nothing to encapsulate the pity and support (Y/N) felt all at once. In the movies or on TV, there was always some sort of all encompassing resolution, a final speech to make everything better. But she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t seem to express exactly how she felt. That Riddle didn’t need to constantly try so hard, to always make himself a perfect image for others to view. That he was allowed to like the things he liked, no matter how trivial or silly they seemed. Make bad frosted cupcakes, learn dressage, play games, be a teenager like everyone else for once. That she had such strong feelings for him, faults included. But nothing seems right. So she just squeezed his hand back. 

“Master Riddle,” A voice said, startling them both. Edgar stood at the door, casting a permanently judging look at the two of them. “Doctor and Mr. Rosehearts have returned. They have requested your presence in the dining room.” 

Riddle jumped up, smoothing his outfit even though it was spotless. “Right, well, (Y/N), I suppose it’s time you meet my parents.” 

Now that the time was actually here, (Y/N) didn’t expect to feel so nervous. Well, maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was anxious, hoping to make a good impression and help Riddle with their plot, but there was something else mixed with it. A kind of dread at coming face to face with a woman she had only ever heard bad things about. This woman, whether intentional or not, set the ground for Riddle’s Overblot. She was not an insignificant part of his emotional distress, his stress, the walls he put up around himself. How were you supposed to feel about a person like that? Especially when the object of that stress still so strongly wanted her approval? 

Edgar escorted them to the dining room where the table was already set and a maid and footman were starting to set out the first course. (Y/N) felt her heart jump unpleasantly in her chest as she came face to face with Dr. Rosehearts. The older woman’s steely gray eyes locked on to (Y/N)’s directly as she stepped in the room. She felt like her skin had been peeled back and every dark and unpleasant thought she had ever had had been thrown on the table for everyone to inspect. Dr. Rosehearts’ otherwise perfect cupid’s bow mouth was pulled into a tight frown. Her red hair, matching perfectly to her son’s, was pulled back in a tight bun clasped at her neck, a deadly looking sharp hairpin keeping it together. She looked elegant and flawless, more like an expensive bone China doll than an actual living breathing person in front of her. (Y/N) almost jumped in surprise when she finally noticed Riddle’s father. He was reading a newspaper, sharp cheekbones and tired, watery eyes under wavy mousy brown hair. Other than a brief flit of his eyes as the two of them entered, it was almost like he didn’t notice them at all. 

“Riddle,” His mother said, standing and turning to her son. (Y/N) felt like a stone had been removed from her chest as Dr. Rosehearts’ eyes finally left hers. “Welcome home. Take a seat.” 

Riddle marched over to his seat opposite his father, sitting with a ramrod straight back, looking straight ahead. (Y/N) faltered for a moment, wondering if she should sit next to Riddle or Mr. Rosehearts. The second of hesitation was noticed by Dr. Rosehearts, whose mouth ticked in annoyance. Riddle subtly nodded his head to the chair across from him, next to his father. (Y/N) scuttled over, pulling the chair out with an undignified squeak against the floor. Mr. Rosehearts looked up at her as she sat down, blinking like she had materialized out of thin air. 

“Mother, Father,” Riddle said, voice stiff. “Allow me to introduce my partner, (Y/N) (L/N), Ramshackle Dorm Prefect at Night Raven College. (Y/N), this is my mother, Dr. Victoria Rosehearts, and my father, Mr. Albert Rosehearts.”  

“Please to meet you,” (Y/N) said, giving what she hoped was a bright and welcoming smile. “Thank you for having me.” 

“Yes, well,” Dr. Rosehearts said. “I must admit it was a surprise when Riddle told me he was bringing a guest home for  the holiday.” 

“Well, Riddle always talks so fondly about Dinah and I haven’t traveled too much, so I couldn’t help but impose. You have a lovely home, by the way.” 

“I do wonder,” Dr. Rosehearts said, ignoring (Y/N)’s attempted start at conversation. “How a young girl such as yourself comes to attend an all boys school?” 

“To be totally honest I’m not really sure myself,” (Y/N) said, laughing through the awkwardness of Dr. Rosehearts intense direct gaze. “We’ve been trying to figure that out since I first got here. It’s been kind of a struggle getting a hang of everything, considering I can’t even use magic, but I-” 

(Y/N) was interrupted by the clatter of Dr. Rosehearts’ spoon clattering against her soup bowl. Even Mr. Rosehearts looked up, suddenly intrigued. “Did you say you can’t use magic?” Mr. Rosehearts said. 

(Y/N) gulped, looking quickly at Riddle who was going pale. “Well, no, I can’t. I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I’m not even from this world. Dimension? Anyway, magic doesn't exist in my world. Somehow one of the black carriages swept me up and brought me here. No one can figure out how or why yet, not even our Magic Mirror. Our headmage has been trying to research it but I guess there’s not a lot of studies on interdimensional travel.” She tried to laugh off the heavy atmosphere. “But no, no magic. Can’t even ride a broom, which is a shame because that’s the one thing I would really love to do.” 

Dr. Rosehearts cleared her throat, dabbing her mouth delicately with a napkin. A maid hastily rushed in to clear her soup. “Well, I suppose Night Raven College’s admission requirements have become quite lacks as of late, having common folk mingling with upper crust society and nobles, not to mention allowing fae folk. I suppose anything is possible at this rate.” 

(Y/N) scowled, finding herself blurting out her next statement despite Riddle’s miniscule shake of the head. “Hey, everyone works really hard at NRC. Where they’re from or their family doesn't matter, they’re all great mages. Besies, it’s the Magic Mirror that chooses people. It’s able to see everyone’s potential. And with everything that’s been going on this year everyone’s only gotten better. It’s amazing some of the stuff I’ve seen them do.” 

“Oh?” Mr. Rosehearts said, folding his paper closed and leaning forward. “Has it been an interesting year?” 

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I don’t know what a typical year at a magic school is like, but to me it’s been insane! There was one time where one of our dorm heads got kidnapped by a ghost bride to marry him, and everyone got together to try to woo her away. She ended up slapping half of them and freezing them in place. Oh, Riddle was here, he had this amazing red velvet suit. Or one of our magestones got stolen by a fairy queen and we had to stage a whole heist to get it back. Our coach, Coach Vargas, had these camps to test people’s abilities and survival instinct when they couldn’t use magic. But then he dressed up as a monster and ‘kidnapped’ a bunch of students so everyone else had to come rescue them. The next camping trip he got one of our other professors in on it too. And every once and a while we’ll have this Culinary Crucible that they had to change the judging for because everyone kept cheating, but-” 

“My!” Dr. Rosehearts suddenly exclaimed. “I don’t believe I remember the last time we had so much chatter at a mealtime.” 

(Y/N) felt her face heat up, but she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. 

Mr. Rosehearts, who had been nodding along to (Y/N) recollection of events with rapt attention, cleared his throat with a cough, leaning back in his chair and taking up his newspaper again. “Yes, well, youth these days,” He said, noncommittal. 

Despite the fact that a maid had just brought out the next course, Dr. Rosehearts stood. “I find I’ve lost my appetite,” She announced. “I will be retiring early tonight. Riddle, we have an appointment at the Lorina Hotel tomorrow for high tea. Make sure you and your guest wear something presentable.” With that, she swept from the room without another word. The silence that followed was brittle, like ice on a lake right before someone plummets through it. 

“Well,” (Y/N) said, breaking the quiet. She stood, walking over to Dr. Rosehearts abandoned plate and picking it up, dumping the roasted chicken and vegetable onto her own plate. “More for me then.” 

~~~

Later that night, (Y/N) had apologized to Riddle no less than twelve times. She tried to defend herself, that she was taken by surprise that his parents didn’t know about her unique circumstances, that she was annoyed how dismissive Dr. Rosehearts had been, that she just started talking and couldn’t figure out how to stop. Not that any of it really excused her behavior, she knew. She felt like she had let Riddle down, ruining whatever chance, no matter how slim, of this being a peaceful visit home. And, while Riddle had repeated every time that it was fine, that she was okay, that he should have prepared her better, she still felt bad. 

(Y/N) had never been to a high tea before. She wasn’t 100% sure what to wear, especially with Dr. Rosehearts’ comment from the night before. And it wasn’t like she had an extensive wardrobe to choose from in the first place. Thankfully, their alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion design had somehow grown fond of her during the school year, providing her with a few outfits to help her fit in better outside of school.  The next morning, she pulled a dusty blue sundress with little white buttons out of her luggage. She had a pair of sandals more suited to the beach than a hotel, but they fit the theme better than her school loafers. She slipped them on and hoped no one would look down. 

Tea was scheduled for 11 so (Y/N) decided to find Riddle and try to get a better lay of the land before they headed out. He didn’t answer her knock, which she thought was strange as Riddle wasn’t the type to sleep in, even if he was home on break. She felt strange wandering through the house. Every once and a while she would see a maid or footman dart out of one of the hidden servant’s doors, but before she could start a conversation or ask where her hosts were they would duck their heads and disappear. 

She eventually found Mr. Rosehearts in the breakfast room, which was the same as the dinning room but with a changed name for some reason. The thick curtains had been thrown open letting light pour in across the spread on the table. Despite the fact that there was enough food to feed at least ten people, Mr. Rosehearts was the only one present, absentmindedly nibbling on some jam slathered toast. 

(Y/N) forced a smile to her face. She might have ruined her first impression with Dr. Rosehearts last night, but Mr. Rosehearts had at least seemed intrigued by what she had to say. “Good morning!” 

Mr. Rosehearts jumped, dropping his toast jam side down on the spotless table cloth. “Oh! Good morning.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The last thing she needed right now was to turn both of Riddle’s parents against her. 

Mr. Rosehearts waved her off, gingerly picking up the toast and plopping it on his plate. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just not used to company in the morning, is all. Not that I mind it. Please, sit.” 

“Is everyone else still asleep?” (Y/N) asked, scooping up some chive studded scrambled eggs on her plate. 

“Oh, no, Victoria doesn't believe in sleeping in. It disrupts the normal circadian rhythms, you know, especially for teenagers like you and Riddle. No, she and Riddle were speaking in her office.” 

“Oh.” (Y/N) suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “I think I need to apologize.” Mr. Rosehearts looked up, blinking owlishly. “I was rambling last night, at dinner. I shouldn’t have been so argumentative, especially since I’m a guest in your home. I’ll be putting a better foot forward from now on, promise.” 

“Oh. Oh! Oh, no, please, think nothing of it. Actually,” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was hoping you could expand on some of those stories you started last night. Just between you and me, I happen to have a penchant for gossip.” He patted the newspaper beside him. Now that (Y/N) got a closer look, she realized it was a society gossip column. She smiled, getting Bridgerton flashbacks. 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of stories. Do you want to start with Fleur City almost burning down or Magicam Monsters taking over NRC?” 

Meanwhile, Riddle sat in an uncomfortable straight backed chair in his mother’s office. Various papers floated around the room, magically organizing themselves in various case files. A free-standing pen signed Dr. Rosehearts’ signature across multiple forms. Despite the warm morning light filling the room, Riddle felt chilled. 

“I wonder,” Dr. Rosehearts said, sitting behind her large mahogany desk, hands clasped in front of her. “About the company you have chosen to keep while away at school.” 

“(Y/N) is a respectable person,” Riddle said. “She was just thrown off last night. She’s still not used to many of our customs. She’s a fast learner, however, she’s acclimated remarkably quickly to life here. Given that she has no base of knowledge for many of the classes at Night Raven College she has good grades and-” 

Dr. Rosehearts held up a hand, stopping Riddle with the words of praise in his throat. “The way the ones you associate with act reflects on you, Riddle. It also reflects upon me and the whole Rosehearts household. You should know better by now.” 

Riddle felt his face flush, looking down. “Yes, Mother.” 

“Really, Riddle, I didn’t think you’d be the type to fall for any pretty face. And how much do you actually know about her background, anyway? You said yourself she’s not from here. Who knows what kind of manipulation she might be playing at, using our good name against us?” Riddle bit his tongue, your defense springing into his mouth. “I’m just trying to look out for you.” 

“Yes, Mother, I know.” 

“Wonderful.” Dr. Rosehearts stood, Riddle following. “We’ll continue to house Miss (Y/N) here during the break, it would be bad form to throw her out at this point, but as soon as you return to school I expect you to end this frivolous excursion.” 

Riddle felt his heart drop into his stomach. “But, Mother, I-” 

“No buts, Riddle,” She said sternly. Riddle immediately looked down, avoiding her cold iron gaze. “I know best for you. You’ll do as I say. We have a plan for you, remember? There’s no use upending your future over some fleeting fancy. And besides, there are many wonderful eligible ladies here in town. We’ll be meeting a few of my top choices for you at the hotel. And we’ll be attending a ball tomorrow night.  Your friend is not invited, by the way.” 

Riddle drew in a sharp breath, a million things he wanted to say racing through his mind. His mother had arranged a meeting with bachelorettes when he had told her he already had a girlfriend? He realized with a sinking sensation that no plan he and (Y/N) would have come up with would have been good enough for his mother. She had her plan and nothing would be able to change it. He suddenly had the sensation of floating, no, falling, with no anchor or safety net. His stomach flipped and a rush of cold descended over his body. 

“Yes, Mother,” He only said. 

Dr. Rosehearts nodded definitively. She swept from the office, Riddle following close behind with downcast eyes. They both paused on the stairway, startled by the sound of laughter floating out from the breakfast room. Riddle pushed past his mother into the room. (Y/N) and his father sat at the table across from each other. His father’s head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in a raucous laugh. Riddle couldn’t remember the last time he heard his father laugh like that, or even laugh at all. (Y/N) was in the middle of a story, hands animated. 

“So of course the referee asked who he is, because their team didn’t have anyone signed up for an alternate, and Leona goes and uses my name! Like no one would recognize the second prince of the Sunset Savannah. And you know what, no one did!” 

Mr. Rosehearts put his hand against his chest, trying to regain his composure. “And then? Did you at least win?” 

“Oh, of course, yeah! And then we all had to run away in this jeep Leona was driving right when it started to rain. I’ve heard Checka still calls him ‘Unca (Y/N)’ sometimes.” 

Mr. Rosehearts looked up, noticing Riddle and Dr. Rosehearts standing in the doorway. “Oh, Victoria! (Y/N) was just telling me the most wonderful story. Did you know she’s friends with Prince Leona of the Sunset Savannah? And the Asim heir, they donated at the last charity gala you attended, didn’t they? It’s amazing the adventures children can get up to now a days-” 

“You’re very chatty this morning, Albert,” Dr. Rosehearts cut him off. “This much noise in the morning is quite unusual, don’t you agree?” 

Mr. Rosehearts’ face dropped and he squirmed in his chair. He picked up his newspaper, flipping it so a person couldn’t see what he was reading. 

(Y/N) frowned at the sudden change of mood, but gave Riddle a warm smile when she saw him. It was amazing how he almost immediately felt lighter. He really hoped he wasn’t blushing again. “Hi!” She chirped, standing. Riddle felt a rush of mixed emotions. Part fluff at (Y/N) smiling at him, beautiful in her sundress, part embarrassment knowing it was exactly the wrong thing to wear, and no doubt his mother had clocked that immediately. 

Riddle reached for a cheese danish. His mother’s hand snapped out, swatting his hand away. “You’ll have sweets at the hotel,” She said, sniffing. “You don’t need the extra sugar, especially this early in the morning.” 

‘Then why have it on the table?’ (Y/N) thought uncharitably. She went over to Riddle, linking her arm through his, pulling him away from Dr. Rosehearts. “You’re sweet enough already, Riddle. When do we head out?” 

Later, as they were waiting for the carriages to head to the hotel, Riddle pulled out and quickly ate the danish (Y/N) had slipped in his pocket. 

~~~

The Lorina Hotel stretched high above their heads. (Y/N) leaned back to take in the full scope of it. The facade was clean white bricks with dozens of windows glinting in the sunlight. Each story was capped by marble carvings of lions with wings, jumping fish, and flowers. 

“No time for gawking,” Dr. Rosehearts said, straightening her gloves. “We have people waiting for us.” 

“We do?” (Y/N) asked, purposefully ignoring Dr. Rosehearts thorny glare. “Are they your friends, Riddle?” 

“Not in so many words,” He replied. 

A finely dressed doorman opened the door to a lavish lobby. Before (Y/N) had a chance to ‘gawk’ again, Dr. Rosehearts swept them off to a side room. She gave their name to a waiter at a podium. The man skimmed the list of reservations in front of him, looking down his nose at (Y/N) and her uncovered shoulders. While (Y/N) was too enamored observing her surroundings, Riddle noticed. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and brought it around her shoulders. The man sniffed. He led them through the tea room to two tables situated against a large window. They sat by a large window opening onto a courtyard in the middle of the hotel. Guests strolled across the green lawn, admiring flowers. Dr. and Mr. Rosehearts sat at their own small table while Riddle and (Y/N) were directed to one that had three other residents already. 

“Riddle!” One of them called, smiling up at him. “How lovely to see you again.” 

(Y/N) felt Riddle stiffen beside her. “Hello, Lily, Rose, Violet. It’s nice to see you all as well.” 

(Y/N) slipped her hand into Riddle’s, who jumped in surprise, before inserting herself in the girls’ line of sight. “Hi! I’m (Y/N), Riddle’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet some of his friends from home!” 

All three girls, in Victorian inspired puffed up dresses with more lace and tulle than (Y/N) had ever seen before and large elaborate sun hats to match, startled, blinking at her as if she had appeared out of thin air. 

Almost in sync, the three of them whipped out decorated fans. “Oh, hello,” Violet said. “We weren’t aware Riddle was bringing a guest.” 

“You’ll just have to put up with me then, I guess.” Riddle pulled out her chair and, with a surge of confidence and a sideways glance at the three girls, (Y/N) quickly kissed his cheek. (Y/N) smiled at the shocked gasp they let out as Riddle’s face turned red. She couldn’t help but reveal in Dr. Rosehearts’ glower as Mr. Rosehearts discreetly smiled into his tea. “So, how close is this to the unbirthday parties at school?” 

“An unbirthday party?” Lily said with a chuckle. “Isn’t that a bit juvenile?” 

“If by juvenile you mean really fun and a great excuse to dress up then yes, I suppose it is.” Under the table, Riddle squeezed (Y/N)’s hand, in warning or thankfulness she wasn’t sure. The three girls looked at eachother, flicking and fluttering their fans with precise motions. 

A waiter brought a pot of tea to the table which he dutifully poured in everyone’s delicate tea cups. Another waiter brought a high stacked tower with tiny cakes and sandwiches. (Y/N) tried to cut down on her abrasiveness for the rest of the tea, not wanting to make Riddle uncomfortable. Although, to her it seemed the three other girls were doing a great job of that on their own. When they weren’t speaking to each other about him without his input, they chatted about things that had been happening in Dinah during the social season, then acted surprised when neither (Y/N) or Riddle could contribute to the conversation. 

After a while, and two pots of tea, Riddle excused himself. A tense silence dropped over the table like a heavy curtain. The three girls continued casting knowing glances at each other, snapping and waving their fans. 

(Y/N) spread her hands on the table. “Look, I know just enough about fan language to know you’re talking about me, but not enough to know what you’re saying. So if you have something you want to say you might as well come out and say it.” 

“You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?” Rose said with a sniff. 

“Among many other things.” 

“We were just wondering,” Violet said smoothly. “About your pedigree. It’s unusual enough to have a girl attending an all boys school, so we surmised you must have a particular magical talent.” 

“We all attend Lady Dormouse’s Finishing School, you see,” Lily said with a saccharine smile. “It’s a far more… elegant education.” 

“Well, I don’t know about elegant,” (Y/N) said, pointedly ignoring Rose’s smirk when she said under her breath, “Clearly.” “But Night Raven College is a great place. Sure, it’s a minefield half the time and considering I can’t do any magic so half of the assignments are almost impossible, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve made amazing friends there, and, of course, I got to meet Riddle. That’s the best part.” (Y/N) smiled wistfully. 

The girls across from her all dropped their jaws at once. “You can’t use magic?” Violet gasped. 

“Surely you know a simple zephyr spell? Or can light a candle?” Lily asked. 

“Nope, not a thing. Don’t have one drop of magic in my whole body.” At this point it almost felt like a mark of pride. And she was beginning to relish the shocked expressions people made. 

Violet reached forward and gently touched the back of (Y/N)’s hand. “You poor thing,” She said, voice breaking. Rose had pushed herself as far back in her chair as she could, as if magiclessness was contagious. (Y/N) could practically see the gears turning in Lily’s head as she considered such a thing being possible. 

(Y/N) looked out the window to the courtyard, trying to avoid Violet’s overly sympathetic gaze. She perked up when she saw a few uniformed staff members setting up small white arches in the grass. A flock of pink flamingos waddled on tall, thin legs around the fountain. One of the staff members gently cradled a small wooden box where a hedgehog poked its nose out. 

“Hey, Riddle!” She called as Riddle walked back to their table. “Check it out, they’re setting up croquet! We should see if we can play.” 

Riddle’s face lit up. “Really?” He asked, craning his neck to look out the window as the first round of players took their marks. He quickly looked back at his mother and schooled his face to a more serious expression. “That is, I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“Oh, I’d love a good game of croquet!” Rose said, clapping her hands. She stood, going over to Riddle and touching his shoulder in a way that made (Y/N) grit her teeth in annoyance. “I was the undisputed champion at Dormouse. You will play with us, won’t you, Riddle?” 

The group exited to the courtyard, Mr. Rosehearts quickly arranging for a game with the attendants. The girls had huddled around the green, watching the previous game. Riddle was looking down at his feet, fiddling with his fingers, pulling at the skin around his nails. 

“Hey!” (Y/N) said, slinging her arm around Riddle’s shoulders. “I am here to make sure you have fun, fake relationship or not. So come on, let’s have fun! Plus, I have no idea how to play this game.” 

“Well,” Riddle said. “The first thing is to choose your flamingo mallet.” He effortlessly snatched a flamingo by the neck, turning it so he held the legs. The flamingo immediately went ramrod straight. 

“That doesn't bother them or anything, right?” (Y/N) asked, looking dubiously at the remaining flamingos. 

“Not at all. They’re specifically trained for this. Go on, try one.” 

“Okay…” (Y/N) tried to replicate the quick movements Riddle had made when grabbing his flamingo. The bird she was aiming for dodged her hand. She grabbed again. Another miss. She heard the girls tittering with laughter. (Y/N) huffed, trying to snatch at the flamingo with both hands this time. The large bird squealed, flapping its large wings as (Y/N) wrestled it. The flamingo squawked and (Y/N) squawked back in defiance. Riddle quickly came to her rescue, grabbing the flamingo and performing the same practiced motion. The flamingo immediately went rigged, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the defiant glint in its eye. 

“Thanks,” (Y/N) mumbled, plucking stray feathers out of her hair. 

Riddle stifled a laugh behind his fist. “Not a problem. The rest of the game is pretty simple. You want to hit the hedgehog through the white pickets to the end of the lawn, then again on the way back. The fewest hits win.” 

“Right, sure. Sounds easy enough.” When Riddle went to take his first hit, (Y/N) whispered harshly to her flamingo mallet, “Don’t mess this up for me.” 

After the others had taken their turn, (Y/N) stepped up to the first hoop, her hedgehog rolled into a ball in front of her. She carefully angled her flamingo down, tapping the head against the small animal. ‘Just like mini-golf,’ She thought to herself and swung gently. She heard giggling from the spectators. She looked down, seeing her hedgehog in the exact same place. Only, no, it was about an inch to the left, away from where she had hit. She tapped her foot, swinging again, this time keeping her eye on the spiky ball. Yup, there, again, it rolled ever so slightly the other way. 

“My ball is cheating,” (Y/N) said, pointing at the innocent-looking hedgehog. 

“It’s a poor craftsman who blames their tools,” Dr. Rosehearts replied from the sidelines. 

“I don’t think that applies here, but sure,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

She squared her feet, tightening her grip on the flamingo’s legs. She tried a harder swing this time. It connected, sending the tiny hedgehog tumbling. Before (Y/N) could celebrate her victory, the animal swung out in a large arc away from the pickets, slowing to a stop right by Dr. Rosehearts’ feet. (Y/N) scowled, going over to stand by Riddle’s parents while the rest of the group took their turns for the second round. 

“You know,” Dr. Rosehearts said softly to (Y/N) when Mr. Rosehearts walked off to get some tea. “Lily’s father is a minister in parliament. She’s an especially accomplished pianist and frequently has requests from the royal theater company to play.” 

“MmHmm,” (Y/N) hummed. 

“Violet recently won first place in a national equestrian show jumping competition. Her father is a colleague of mine, an orthopedic surgeon, and her mother is a most accomplished florist.” 

“Neat.” 

“Rose is an absolute gem, of course. Extremely high marks with practical magic, and her embroidery has been displayed as far as the Sunshine Lands. She’s also wonderfully organized and an exemplary hostess. I can see her managing a fine house one day.” 

“Maybe, but Rose Rosehearts is kind of clunky, don’t you think? Or redundant? One of those.” 

Dr. Roshearts sniffed. “She also has a firm grasp on language and elegance.” 

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something she knew she would probably regret when the referee called for her turn. Dr. Rosehearts inclined her head and took a step back, giving (Y/N) room to swing. 

“Alright,” (Y/N) said softly to the ball and mallet. “The arch this time.” 

She aimed, taking in a deep breath as she swung. She looked around the green, not seeing her hedgehog rolling towards or away. It also wasn’t stuck in its place at her feet. Suddenly, the flamingo began to writhe in her hands, flapping its large wings to bat fiercely at her face. She coughed on feathers, trying to hold the distressed animal as far away as possible. Peaking out from one eye, she saw the hedgehog clinging to the flamingo’s neck, climbing up and down while the bird desperately tried to escape its tiny claws. (Y/N) shook the bird, reaching out to try and dislodge the hedgehog. That only seemed to make it worse as both animals began to panic. The flamingo kicked out causing (Y/N) to drop it. With an unholy squawk, it leapt out of her hands, flapping and dancing, colliding right into the gawking Dr. Rosehearts. The red-haired woman shrieked, several hotel attendants coming to her rescue, trying to grab the flamingo. (Y/N) couldn't help but notice Mr.  Rosehearts watching the whole spectacle with fascination from the tea cart. 

As the attendants apologized profusely to a fuming Dr. Rosehearts, (Y/N) made her way over to Riddle and the three gasping girls. “Well,” She said. “I don’t think I’m very good at this game.” 

~~~

When they got back to the townhouse, (Y/N) had another round of apologizing to Riddle. 

“I really didn’t mean for that to happen,” She said. She didn’t say she felt somewhat satisfied to see Dr. Rosehearts in distress, plucking stray feathers out of her hair and clothes the whole ride home. “I don’t know what I was doing wrong. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much.” 

“I know it’s not your fault,” Riddle said, pulling off his tie. (Y/N) was sitting on the bed in his room as he watched her in the mirror on his bureau. “The hotel should have vetted their animals better.” 

(Y/N) bit her lip. She gave a mirthless laugh. “Our plan isn't going very well, is it?” Riddle faltered, dropping his tie. He turned around to look at (Y/N). Her mouth was screwed up in a tight frown, her eyes misty, and she clutched the duvet tightly. “Sorry. I really wanted to make you look good. I wanted to try and seem like the perfect girlfriend, but I just kind of made everything worse. I wanted to show you that I-” She suddenly cut herself off, looking up and meeting Riddle’s eyes. Her face grew hot and she looked away. “Sorry, don’t listen to me, I’m rambling.” 

More than anything, Riddle wanted to ask her what she was going to say. More than anything, he wanted to say something back, something that had been stuck in his mind well before he asked for her help in their plot. Something that made his heart speed up with her every kind word and action, that made him feel pleasantly light-headed whenever they were close, that caused his chest to fill with pride as she worked tirelessly to defend him during the trip. But his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He could still feel the iron-hot glare from his mother on the carriage ride back from the hotel. And, beneath it all, a simmering fear that their ploy was really just a ploy, that (Y/N) was just an exceptionally good actor, that there was no way she could feel the same way about him that he was realizing he felt about her. 

He tapped his foot, coming over to sit next to (Y/N) on his bed. “There’s a ball tomorrow night,” He said, not looking at her. “Mother, Father, and I are invited. Mother… asked if you would be alright remaining at home.” 

“Oh,” She said, and Riddle tried not to flinch back at her tone of voice. “No, yeah, I get it. Hey, I don’t even have anything to wear. So, yeah, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not,” Riddle said, his harshness even startling himself. He cleared his throat, starting again. “It’s unfair to you. I shouldn’t have dragged you all the way out here. This whole thing was a bad idea to begin with.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) said again, another fractured syllable. She stood. “Well, yeah, fine. I guess the idea of us being together is a bad idea.” 

Riddle felt a jolt in his chest. “No, wait, (Y/N), that’s not what I-” 

“No, I get it. Why would someone like you want to be with someone like me in the first place? You’ve got a plan all figured out, right? NRC then internships then becoming a world famous doctor. And what do I have to offer you? I can’t do magic, I don’t have any family, I definitely don’t have any money, I have no idea what I’m even going to do over the summer break. And it’s not like I fit in with your world, anyway. Not just Twisted Wonderland, but the whole life you want for yourself. It’s fine, I get it.” She stood, pacing, hot and angry tears pricking her eyes. She took a deep, rattling breath to steady herself before turning to Riddle face to face. “I won’t get in your way anymore. But I do want to say that you deserve better than how you’ve been treated. You’re not your mother. You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are by yourself, not some mold other people try to put you in. You’ve worked so hard these past few months to be a better person and I- I just hope you find someone who recognizes that.” Without another word, (Y/N) rushed out of the room. She nearly collided with Dr. Rosehearts in the hall before muttering an “excuse me” before throwing herself in her room, locking the door. 

Dr. Rosehearts lifted her chin, walking the few steps forward to Riddle’s room. She didn’t bother knocking and just stepped inside. Riddle was sitting on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands. 

“I’m glad you’ve come to see reason, Riddle,” She vaguely praised. Riddle looked up at her with red rimmed eyes, checks flushed. “We’ll leave for your suit fitting in the morning. Don’t be late.” 

“Yes, Mother,” Riddle mumbled. The sound of his door clicking shut ricocheted around his ears. 

~~~

“I messed up,” (Y/N) said. “I really messed this whole thing up.” 

It was the next day. She’d barely slept the night before, not bothering to go down to dinner last night or breakfast this morning. Eventually, she heard the front door open and close, watching Riddle and Dr. Rosehearts board a carriage to go out. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and called Cater. 

“I mean,” He said. “It’s not the best, that’s for sure.” 

(Y/N) had called Cater after a moment of desperation, eager for someone to talk to and express her frustrations. She trusted Cater enough to know he wouldn’t immediately run off and tell everyone about the plan and would be patient enough to listen to her vent. He had also lent a sympathetic ear in the past when she had gotten overwhelmed by the strangeness of her new world and missing her old one. She could practically see him twist a lock of hair around his finger as he talked to her. “But it’s not all your fault. Riddle could have stepped in to help, you know.” 

“He’s just… under a lot of pressure here,” She said. “I guess I had this idea in my head of what it would be like. But, man, do I hate his mom.” 

“We all do, sweetheart.” 

“I feel like I kind of abandoned him, though. But he basically disinvited me from my last night here so how am I supposed to feel?” 

“Hmm. Do you know where the party is supposed to be tonight?” 

“At Rose’s place, bleh.” 

“Well, you could always crash it.” 

(Y/N) sat up. “Crash? I can’t do that, I’ve embarrassed him enough already.” 

Cater huffed in frustration. “Honestly, you’re both so blind I don’t know how you stand it.” 

“What?” 

“I’m sorry, I thought you said the reason you went there in the first place was to help Riddle.” 

“I did - I am - but-” 

“And what? You’re just going to let one bad game of croquet take that from you?” 

“It wasn’t just that game, I-” 

“And we both know Riddle’s blind spots. Sure, he’s been better about all that rule stuff and chilling out here at school, but being back in the middle of all his trauma is different, you know?” 

“I - You know what? You’re right.” 

“Of course I’m right, I usually am.” 

“Riddle acts like he’s in charge all the time, I forget that we’re practically the same age. And everyone needs help, even when they’re too stubborn to admit it.” 

“Yes, exactly! Stubborn is practically Riddle’s middle name!” 

“Which means,” (Y/N) stood. “I’ve got to be stubborn back! If Riddle can’t ask for help then I need to be a good girlfriend and recognize he needs it and do my part!” 

(Y/N) could feel Cater’s smirk in his next words. “Ooh, his girlfriend, huh? I thought you were just pretending?” 

“Oh, you know what I mean. Thanks, Cater. I’ve got to go get ready. I have a party to crash!” 

“I’m going to need every detail when you get back!” 

(Y/N) quickly hung up, dialing another number. “Hi, Vil? It’s (Y/N). I have a really big favor to ask.” 

~~~

Riddle stared into his flute of sparkling wine, watching the few remaining bubbles rise and pop. It was flat by now and he hadn’t taken a single sip. The last rays of sunlight glowed gently against the surrounding townhouses that Riddle could see out the large bay windows of the ballroom. Couples twirled together along the floor to the elegant music from a string band. A long table was precisely set with way too much food, even given the substantial size of the party. His father mingled across the room with several other gentlemen from his club, doing his best to blend into the curtains. Riddle stood dutifully next to his mother who was speaking to Rose’s mother. Rose herself hovered next to him. He floated in and out of their conversation, only picking up about every fourth word. He wore a dark red velvet coat with a tight white starched collar that he kept tugging at to keep from strangling him. 

“And then,” Rose was saying. “Betty walks in with a yellow checkered parasol! Can you imagine? For an autumn leaf viewing picnic? Honestly, I’m surprised she had the nerve to stay around for as long as she did with that sort of faux pa.” 

“MmHm,” Riddle replied, swirling his glass causing a few errant bubbles to meander to the surface. 

“Really, the only thing that might have been more embarrassing is if she brought a chestnut tart! Oh, are you alright, Riddle?” 

Riddle coughed, clearing his throat as his face turned red. “Yes, fine, just remembering something unpleasant.” 

“Well, I’m not sure how you could think of anything unpleasant with me around,” She said, clutching his arm to pull him closer to her, batting her eyes. Her eyelashes were so long Riddle had a single terrifying impression of spider legs. 

Riddle cleared his throat again, more uncomfortable this time. “Yes, I can’t imagine.” 

Rose pouted and opened her mouth to say something else only to be interrupted by the round of gasps and murmurs that swelled from around the room. At the top of the grand staircase leading down to the ballroom, a footman was taking a dark traveling cloak from a newcomer. The cloak fell away to reveal the elaborate dress underneath it. The bodice was a rich crimson red with puffed sleeves at the shoulders, leading down to illusion sheer sleeves with tiny intricate beading twinkling down to the tight clasps at the wrists. The skirt bloomed out from the waist, layers upon layers of fabric resembling a large upside down rose. The red from the top continued down the skirt in an almost dripping effect, the rose petals turning white at the bottom as if they were being painted. The rose parted just at the knees to allow the wearer more freedom of movement, revealing sheer stockings with the same bead work. 

Riddle shoved his glass into Rose’s hands, ignoring her shocked look. He strode forward, cutting through the crowd. As the new figure descended the stairs, he met her, extending his hand to take hers. 

“Hi,” (Y/N) said, smiling gently at him. “I’m not too late, am I?” 

“No,” Riddle breathed. “You’re here just in time.” 

“Excuse me!” They both turned to see Rose and her mother coming over, frustration on Rose’s face and confusion on her mother’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Rose’s mother said, eyes darting to (Y/N)’s and Riddle’s held hand. “This is a closed party.” 

“She’s with me,” Riddle quickly said. He saw his mother furrow her brow and press her lips together. He continued, meeting her gaze. “This is (Y/N), my girlfriend. She’s my guest.” 

There was another small round of exclamations around the room. Rose crossed her arms while her mother blinked in confusion. “Oh, well, then please, by all means, welcome.” 

(Y/N) bobbed a curtsy, “Thank you.” 

“Would you like to dance?” Riddle asked. 

(Y/N) smiled and Riddle felt like his heart would explode. “I’d love to.” He led her to the dance floor. The band, which had paused at her entrance, started up again with a waltz.“I should warn you,” (Y/N) whispered to him as they took their place. “I have no idea how to do any of this.” 

“That’s alright. Just follow my lead.” 

“Riddle, I’d follow you through the Land of Ghosts and back if you asked me to.” Riddle tripped over his own feet, (Y/N) catching him in a spin and laughing. 

“I like your dress,” Riddle said, trying to regain his composure. “I didn’t see it before.” 

“Thanks, it’s a loner. I have friends in high places. Vil, I mean Vil.” 

Spectators watched the couple in a not at all elegant dance across the floor. “Oh, Victoria,” Another socialite's mother said, coming up to her. “You must be so proud. She seems like such a lovely girl. And Riddle looks so happy!” 

“Indeed,” Dr. Rosehearts replied with a steely stare at the couple. She noticed the flush on Riddle’s cheeks, his eyes closed as he laughed at something (Y/N) had said. (Y/N) took a wrong step back, bumping into another couple dancing behind them. She watched them apologize, (Y/N) saying something to the other couple that made them laugh and wave a pleasant goodbye. Dr. Rosehearts ground her teeth, nose screwing up in frustration. 

The song ended and Riddle and (Y/N) exited the dance floor. They’re faces were both flushed, glowing underneath the chandelier lights. (Y/N) felt her heart flutter pleasantly as she watched Riddle, a rare genuine smile across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. She could always tell when it was a sincere smile whenever a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows leaning to his left eye. She wondered what it meant that she had studied his face so intently to notice that. 

Dr. Rosehearts interrupted the conversations happening around her by walking away, striding with her head held high to Riddle and (Y/N). (Y/N) noticed her first, taking a side step closer to Riddle and meeting the older woman’s stare with unabashed defiance. Dr. Rosehearts ground her teeth again. 

“Riddle,” Dr. Rosehearts said. Riddle jumped, just now noticing his mother’s presence. His body immediately stiffened, shoulders going back to make a conscious effort to stand straighter. “Lewis and Carol were looking for you.” She waved her hand over to the other side of the ballroom. “I thought I might have a chat with (Y/N).” 

Riddle started to stutter a response before (Y/N) laid a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” She said. “Go on, I’ll catch up with you later.” Riddle looked between the two women, eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, before nodding hesitantly and going over to see his old middle school classmates. 

(Y/N) plucked a glass of cider from a passing waiter. She wondered briefly what the drinking laws were here. 

“Well,” Dr. Rosehearts said, clasping her hands in front of her. “You certainly know how to make an entrance to an event you weren’t invited to.” 

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” (Y/N) said, swirling her glass. “I’m Riddle’s plus one. He wanted me here.” 

“Yes, I suppose it is very kind of him to humor you.” 

“Well, someone in your family needs to have a sense of humor, right?” 

“Hmph. Riddle has a plan, you know. He can’t be distracted by frivolities.” 

“You have a plan, you mean. Riddle can do whatever he wants. He’s exceedingly capable, smart, and an amazing mage.” 

“Thanks to my careful tutelage.” 

“Despite your ‘careful tutelage’ I’d say.” 

Dr. Rosehearts eyes flared. “You know nothing about my relationship with my son. My son.” 

“Oh, I know plenty.” 

“And I know my son. Believe me, your relationship, or whatever you want to call this, is just some passing fancy. He’ll get over it soon and come back to me with his senses intact.” 

“At least my relationship with him didn’t lead to his Overblot.” 

There was a snapping sound, a shatter of glass, and a gasp from across the ballroom. Riddle whirled around. His mother stood over (Y/N), her hand raised. (Y/N) clutched her cheek, already turning red from Dr. Rosehearts’ slap. 

“How dare you?” She shouted, now drawing every eye around the room. “My Riddle was perfectly fine until the moment you showed up at that school. He was obedient until you started influencing him!” 

“And that’s all that matters, right? That he is obedient to you. That he does whatever you say. He’s not your doll for you to play with, he’s a living breathing amazing person you just refuse to recognize has his own thoughts and life outside of you!” 

“I won’t take criticism from some magicless interloper who cavorts with fae and meddles with every aspect of a world she doesn't understand!” 

“Well, that’s just the beginning of your issues, isn’t it? You’re so stuck in your own head you refuse to recognize when you’re in the wrong and actively hurting the people around you!” 

Dr. Rosehearts took in a sharp inhale, raising her hand again. 

“Mother!” Both women turned to see Riddle rushing over to them. 

(Y/N) immediately blanched. “Riddle, I’m sorry, I-” 

“Riddle!” Dr. Rosehearts cut her off, jabbing a finger at (Y/N). “Control this wretched girl!” 

“I will do no such thing,” Riddle said defiantly, putting himself between his mother and (Y/N). He turned to her, lowering his voice. “Are you alright?” 

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” 

He gave a decisive nod and turned back to Dr. Rosehearts. “Mother, you need to apologize.” 

Dr. Rosehearts gaped at him. “Me? Apologize to her?” 

“You’ve been nothing but hateful since (Y/N)’s arrived. She’s our guest and someone extremely important to me. You could at least have the common courtesy to be polite.” 

Dr. Rosehearts’ face was cherry red. “How dare you speak to me like this! I’m your mother!” 

“And nothing she said was untrue!” Dr. Rosehearts flinched back. “All my life, all I’ve wanted was to please you, to make you proud of me. I worked so, so hard. It crushed me, it destroyed me, that I couldn’t meet your impossible expectations! And I just thought that was how the world was, set in rigid rules, and anyone who couldn’t follow every last one was a bad person. I ruined friendships, I ruined myself, I almost ruined everything when I Overblot!” Another round of gasps rang from around the room. (Y/N) slipped her hand into his, squeezing in reassurance. He squeezed back, soldiering on. “I’m not a son to you, I’m a project! I’m some doll you parade around and pose however you want without any actual care for the damage you might do! (Y/N) has shown me I can be a better person, that I can be who I actually want to be! Except I have no idea who that person is because you’ve broken me into your specific mold for so long. She’s stayed by me, my friends have stayed by me, no matter what. For the first time in my life I feel content with myself, like I can actually breathe. And you act like that’s a bad thing.” Riddle was breathing hard, hot tears starting to spill from eyes. “Well, I’m done. I’m done trying to please you. I’ll never be good enough for you. And that’s fine. I don’t want to be. Now I just want to be good enough for myself. Let’s go, (Y/N).” Still holding hands, the two swept from the ballroom, the party goers parting for them like the Red Sea. 

Dr. Rosehearts’ face was red with rage, eyes darting around the room from each pitying, concerned, and judging face of the attendants to her son’s retreating back. She was breathing hard, head fuzzy, vision going blurry around the edges. Stepping forward, she slid her hairpin from her perfectly maintained bun, a magestone embedded at one end. She took a solid step forward, pointing it at Riddle. “Riddle-!” 

“Victoria!” She froze at the sudden exclamation. She turned, seeing Mr. Rosehearts staring steadfastly at her. “That’s enough.” 

She stopped, looking down at her hand, at her wand, at what she was about to do. She gasped, dropping the wand so it clattered against the marble flooring. The sound echoed in her ears. 

~~~

It was starting to rain outside. Riddle shrugged off his jacket, holding it above the two of them to huddle beneath it. 

“I don’t think we would be able to take the carriage back,” He said. “To be honest, I’m not sure if I want to go back to the townhouse anyway.” 

“No problem,” (Y/N) said, pulling her phone out of an invisible pocket. “Give me a second. Hi, Hornton? It’s (Y/N).” Minutes later, a private carriage from the Lorina Hotel was pulled alongside the cafe’s outside seating where Riddle and (Y/N) had taken up temporary shelter. “Friends in high places,” She said as they climbed inside. 

The two were quiet as the carriage rumbled on. They sat next to each other on the bench seats. Riddle leaned his head on (Y/N)’s shoulder as she rubbed circles in the back of his hand. They exited soon after at the hotel, a doorman holding an umbrella over their heads as they rushed inside. 

At the front desk, the concierge and manager were talking in animated whispers, jolting up to paste on bright smiles as the two approached the desk. “Hello!” The manager said, a little too enthusiastically. “Checking in under Draconia?” 

“Yup, that’s us,” (Y/N) said, holding Riddle close. “Two rooms, please.” 

“Ah, well, of course, you see,” The manager stuttered. (Y/N) suspected they didn’t often get calls from foreign royalty as it was throwing the poor man off this game. “Unfortunately, as I mentioned to his majesty on the phone, we only have one room left available.”

“Oh. Well, if it’s a double that will work fine, too.”

The manager cringed. “It’s a single bed, Miss.” 

“Ah.” (Y/N) said, head starting to spin. She tried to quickly problem solve in her head. Could she call Horton back and ask him to make reservations somewhere else? Or would that be rude? Just the thought of going back to the Rosehearts townhome made her skin crawl. 

“It’s fine,” Riddle said. “We’ll take it.” The manager looked relieved as he handed over the keys. “I’ll need to make a phone call as well, to have our things brought here in the morning. Do you have anything we could use for the night?” 

“Of course, sir! Please, take it with our compliments.” 

They handed over two sets of monogrammed gray pajamas. A bellhop led them to the elevator, pushing the button to their floor. 

“I guess you’re right,” Riddle said. “It does pay to have friends in high places.” 

For some reason, that comment, along with the building stress of the night, broke the tight bundle of nerves (Y/N) had lodged in her chest. She started giggling, not being able to stop or catch her breath. Riddle soon followed, both of them almost doubled over with impractical laughter. They continued to their room, a patron from next door sticking his head out at the noise. Their laughter died down when they came into the room, both setting eyes on the single bed at the center. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” (Y/N) said, pointing to the adjoining bathroom. Riddle just nodded, tearing is eyes from the bed and trying very hard to look anywhere else. 

In the bathroom, (Y/N) peeled off her dress, feeling kind of bad about haphazardly throwing it over the towel rack to hang. She turned the water on to almost scalding, letting it rush over her in an attempt to beat the chill that had settled in her bones, only partially from the rain. After her shower, she changed into the provided pajamas. They were warm and soft against her skin. She hesitated before exiting the bathroom. 

Riddle jumped when she came out, and she wondered if she should have knocked first. She saw he had pulled the duvet and one of the massive pillows off the bed, laying them out on the floor. “You can take the bed tonight,” He said. “I’ll sleep here.” Without waiting for her protest, Riddle went into the bathroom locking it behind him. She soon heard the sound of rushing water from the shower. 

‘Well, that’s not very fair,’ She thought. She drug off the remaining blanket from the bed and the other pillow, creating her own spot on the opposite side on the floor. Riddle was the one who just had his whole world tossed around. It was only fair if he got the bed for the night. A few minutes later, Riddle left the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He was rubbing his hair with a towel. He looked confused at (Y/N) on the floor on her side of the bed. 

“I’d say you can take the bed,” (Y/N) said. “But I know you’re too stubborn and chivalrous for that. So I’ll stay down here too. That way we’re even.” 

“You don’t need to do that for me,” Riddle said. 

“I want to.” 

Riddle stared at her. (Y/N) could almost see the thoughts turning in his head. He nodded once, going over to his side of the bed and laying down on the improv sleeping mat. (Y/N) reached up and switched off the light. A soft glow from the street lamps came in through the window, the rain softly padding against the glass. (Y/N) could see Riddle through the space under the bed. He was staring straight up, hands clasped tightly against his stomach. 

“Riddle-,” She started. 

“I’m glad I said it. I think I’ve been wanting to say all of that for a long time now. And I don’t think I would have been able to if you weren’t there, if I didn’t know I had your support. So thank you.” 

(Y/N) thought hard, turning his words over in her head. ‘Screw it,’ She thought. She got up, dragging her blanket and pillow with her. She went over to Riddle’s side of the floor/bed, dropping her stuff next to him and laying back down. She turned on her side to look at him, meeting his wide confused eyes. 

“Riddle, I think I’m in love with you.” Riddle sputtered, choking on air, but now that she had started, (Y/N) knew she had to power through. “I mean, I’ve never really been in love with someone before, but I’m pretty sure that’s what this is. My feelings for you, I mean. It started off with just really admiring you. I know the beginning of the year was really tough and I can’t imagine what it was like to go through all of that. But ever since you’ve been working so hard, and I can see that, everyone can see that. You’re smart and brave and stubborn as hell, which I got to admit I kind of like. I love how I can tell when you get genuinely excited about something or that smug grin you get when you’re right about something. You’re a great house warden and a good friend. Not to mention you’re really cute. So, yeah. I just needed to say that. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I understand. Or you don’t want to give me an answer right now. I don’t mind waiting, if it’s for you.” She laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, heart thundering in her chest. The silence of the room was only broken by the soft pitter patter of the rain.  

“(Y/N)?” Riddle said softly. (Y/N) turned on her side so the two of them were facing each other again.  “You know I’m not good with talking about my feelings. I still have a hard time deciphering them myself, to be honest. But one thing I’m absolutely certain about is how I feel about you. I love you. I have to admit, I had ulterior motives when I asked you to come with me for this. I thought maybe it would be some sort of test run for an actual relationship, which now, saying it out loud, I realize how awful that sounds, and I’m sorry. I love how I feel around you, like I can be the greatest person in the world. I love how kind you are, how ready to jump into action, how ready you are to help no matter what. I love how steadfast and brave you are in what must be a terrifying situation, not knowing anything about your surroundings or having the same tools as all of us to combat it. And you’ve basically taken on raising Grim by yourself which I know can’t be easy with having that extra responsibility all of a sudden on top of everything else. I know I might not be the easiest person to be around. I’m stubborn, like you said, and I can get angry easily. Obviously my family is a complete mess. But, I hope, despite everything, you can still accept me for who I am and for who I want to be.” 

“Riddle, I already said I love you. Of course I accept you. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

Despite how flustered it made him, Riddle wouldn’t want to be pried out of each other’s arms as they fell asleep for anything in the world. 

~~~

It was sunny the next morning, the rain from the night before lending a pleasant coolness to the air. Staff from the Rosehearts’ townhouse had dropped off Riddle and (Y/N)’s packed bags that morning and the newly formed couple was getting ready to head back to their starting point for the Magic Mirror to bring them back to school. (Y/N) tried to buy some fancy chocolates from the hotel for the boys back at NRC, but the manager and staff had shoved the boxes into her hands at no charge. 

“Compliments to friends of the Draconia family!” He had said. 

As they got ready to head out, they heard someone call from behind them, “Riddle!” 

They turned around, seeing the Rosehearts’ carriage come down the street, Mr. Rosehearts leaning out of the window, waving. He jumped out as the carriage rolled to a stop, jogging over. 

(Y/N) took a step in front of Riddle. “Do you want me to deal with it?” She asked. 

“No, it’s fine,” He said. “I’ll only be a minute.” Riddle left his bags with (Y/N), who watched Mr. Rosehearts’ approach with a critical eye, and walked over to meet his father. “Father. I’ll be heading back to school soon. I don’t want to be late.” 

“Right, of course, I won’t take up too much of your time.” He seemed nervous, not meeting his son’s eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize, Riddle.” 

Riddle blinked. “Apologize?” 

“Yes, and it’s a long time coming. I’m afraid I haven’t been a good father to you. I saw the kind of stress your mother put you under, how controlling it could be. And I ignored it. I should have been better for you, stood up for you more. You’re my son, Riddle, and I love you. But I haven’t acted like it for a long time. I hope, one day, we can start again and you can forgive me.” 

“I-” Riddle was at a loss for words. “I can’t say it will be soon, but I appreciate you saying that. I hope you can understand.” 

Mr. Rosehearts smiled wide and nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll go on your time.” 

Riddle looked back at the carriage. “Is Mother here?” 

Mr. Rosehearts’ face dropped, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. “No, she’s still at home. We’re actually going to… spend some time apart for the foreseeable future.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s for the best. I’ll be out at the country estate if you need anything.” He winked and whispered conspiratorially. “To be honest, I’ve always wanted to get into ornithology. I hear there’s a rare variant of the jubjub bird in the area I’ve been dying to get a look at.” 

The two separated, Mr. Rosehearts to his carriage and Riddle to (Y/N). “You okay?” She asked. 

“Fine. I think things might be looking up, actually.” 

She bumped him with her hip. “Well, you’ve got a super cool new girlfriend now, so I sure hope so.” 

Riddle chuckled, linking their arms together. They stepped back through the portal to school, confident that no matter what trials and tribulations would come next, they would face them together. 

[trendywaifus]

cw: fem! reader, reader works for pubsec, slightly suggestive but it’s just fluff, mentions of one night stands, i swear it’s mutual

—can’t quit you, you’re like drugs !

you rouse from your slumber, lazily moving a hand over your eyes to block out the early sun from getting into them as warm shades of yellow pour through the slightly opened blinds. a soft yawn leaves your lips and you turn to your side, subconsciously stretching your arm out for a certain woman who spent one of many nights with you. once feeling the warm, empty space beside you, you sighed with defeat. what did you expect? that woman always sneaks off and leave before daybreak. you don’t really expect her to stay and it wasn’t like you were in a romantic relationship with the criminology consultant. your interactions with her is purely sexual and full of one night stands.

were you satisfied with that? not really. her touch still tingles on your skin, leaving behind an invisible print that’s starting to find its way under your skin and seep into your bones, softening them. the sweet promises and honeyed words she’d whispered into your ear still stays in your mind, floating around like a cloud. “ don’t tell me i. .” you don’t finish your sentence and ran a hand through your tousled locks.

“ oh, i didn’t expect you to be awake this early, pretty. “ a saccharine voice giggles as the rat thiren saunters into your bedroom, wearing one of your cotton white robes that loosely hugs her well-endowed figure. her fluffy, saber hair is beautifully messy. her feline teal eyes softens with amusement at the puzzled look on your face.

“ well jane, i usually get up around this time. but i didn’t expect you to be, well— “

jane finishes your sentence smoothly as she walks over to the bed and sits down on the soft mattress,“ here? usually i get called a little early than this but, the timing seems to be different this morning. “

“ i can see that. “ you mutter, “ but why are you still here? “

she chuckles, grabbing her compact vanity mirror to check herself out. she uses the mirror to fix her bed head, smoothening out the wild strands with her hand.“ i just told you, silly girl. what, you don’t want me here? aww, i’m hurt. “ you can’t tell if she’s offended or not but you fall for it anyways.

you stammer, “ i-i do—that’s not what i meant! i mean regardless if they haven’t called you for a new case to operate on yet, i’m saying why are you still here with me? i assume you have things to do and you seem to be a very busy woman. “

jane titters, closing her compact vanity mirror and places it on the nightstand. “ i’m not as busy as you might think, “ there’s a fond glint in her eyes as she lays down with you, propped up on her side. her long tail sways in a relaxed manner while she speaks honestly, “ i’m just a woman who does side jobs. when you call, i beckon. “

“ yeah, at night. “

she merely smiles, resting her cheek against her palm while her hand reach out to brush the strands of hair away from your eyes. her gesture was affectionate and gentle, inducing a warm feeling inside your belly. “ it doesn’t always have to be that way, darling. things doesn’t have to be strictly sex. truthfully, i want more but i’m just being patient due to our demanding work field. “

you fall silent, processing her words. your gaze pools into hers, searching for any signs of deceit. jane doesn’t shy away from your skeptical gaze, instead, she challenges it. her lips spreads wider, her upper, subtle rat-like incisor teeth peeking through her easy smile. after a few moments of staring, you finally broke the eye contact with a shy expression marinating on your face. at least you know you’re not the only one who got attached.

“ . . .i also wa—“

a melodic ringtone from your phone abruptly cuts you off. you sigh with annoyance, reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand on your side. “ it’s seth. “ you grumble, (e/c) eyes glossing over the caller id.

“ oh, that cat boy? i met him during my last case, he’s quite. . “

“ the naive hero boy. i know, that boy’s my partner. give me a moment jane.”

you answer the call, bringing the device to your ear. “ hey kiddo, you need something? “ you ask sweetly, ignoring jane’s fingers idly playing with your free hand.

“ uh, good morning (name)! i don’t mean to bother you but captain zhu yuan is requesting your presence for an emergency meeting she’s holding in two hours. “

huh? “ emergency meeting in two hours? ugh, does that woman know i’m off today? what’s it about, seth? “ you groan.

“ w-well, it’s about the new missing person cases that’s been increasing recently. there’s been a report of a group of college students going missing around the metro station just last night. there’s also been a immediate search party team sent out to look for them all over the area and around the city but nothing came out of it! “

your eyes widen in shock. jane, who can hear your conversation, hums in surprise.

“ that’s ridiculous! and nobody found them? i’ll be over there in an hour, don’t worry. i’ll see everyone when i get there, yeah bye. “ you ended the call with a heavy sigh.

“ that’s quite the emergency you got there. I heard about those cases in my department, it seems to have gotten worse in just under a week. “ jane notes with concern in her voice, watching as you sat up against the headboard, hugging the covers over your chest.

“ i’m sorry jane, it seems like i’m the one that has to be leaving early. we can continue our previous conversation sometime tonight or after the meeting. “ you cast her an apologetic look, reaching out to grab her hand and squeezed it. she shakes her head, bringing your hand up to her lips and kissed one of your knuckles. “ it’s fine, i’m actually expecting an agent to call me about it too. “

you shake your head with disapproval. “ wh-what? they shouldn’t be hiring consultants when people are going missing! we don’t even know who’s causing this—that’s like using you as bait! when seth explained me to what that razor guy had done to you a few days ago after the operation, i honestly was ready to lose my position over you. ”

jane blinks in shock, taken back by how much you truly care about her. her ears flutter, siren green eyes turning almost doe eyed. the earnest look in your eyes reminded her of seth when he stood up for her against razor. was everyone in the criminal investigation response team so honest? she recovers, chuckling at your confession.

“ you really are a sweetheart. you actually do care about me, huh? “ she tease with a mischievous smirk, you roll your eyes.

“ of course i do, i don’t just have consistent sex with someone i don’t care about, jane. “

“ is that so? maybe i should of figured that out a lot sooner when you’d always want me to kiss you after i ate—“

you abruptly cut her off, “ please woman. i’m trying to be serious here. anyways, “ you gently free your hand from hers and cradle her cheek with your palm. the rat thiren instinctively lean into your tender touch, soft turquoise hues staring into your own. “ if you feel like you’re in any danger that you can’t get out of, don’t hesitate to contact me personally at any time. if you can’t contact me, i’ll find you myself. i know that you’re amazingly strong and you can hold your own but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to prevent the chances of you getting hurt if i can. i can’t stand someone i love risk their life, that’s why i became an officer. “

you seal your words off by placing a passionate kiss on her plump lips. jane immediately kiss back with just as much ardor. you feel a smile press against your lips but you don’t pull away—you don’t pull away until your lungs are screaming for oxygen. finally, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers. jane whispers her promise back to you,“ and if you need me, i’ll be there for you too. even if we’re in different divisions and departments, i have my ways of coming out of the shadows to help you even when you at least expect it. “

[1-queenofpotatoes-1]

MY JASON TODD HCs

An: Hi I’m not great at fics but I had this idea so let’s-a-go! Please leave any suggestions you want in my inbox!

Warnings: there is some smut but mostly good, I will say when there’s is suggestive content

1. OPENNESS

When you start dating he is polite but reserved and will need to stay atleast a foot away at all times but….. when he’s known you for a few more months he will become more open and reveal his sassy, kind side

2. SLEEPING/ CUDDLES

our boy is an insomniac but when he’s in bed with you sleep is easy, he just feels so safe, he will always act like he is the big spoon but after five minutes he will be THE little spoon he again feels super safe and comfortable with you and shows his softer ‘weaker’ side

3. SIBLINGS/ FAMILY

Jason doesn’t really care what Bruce thinks about you but dick? Damien? If they don’t like you, sorry hun you’ve gotta go ‘cause these are the people who have been by his side for years and you will not change that. However if they like you you aren’t allowed to leave, dick will causally enter your home through the window even if you live separately, Tim will pop up at random times to be all “what’s up, can you stitch up my seven bullet wounds?”, Damien will stalk you to your workplace, Cassie and Steph will talk shit about the others and teach you how to code and fight (like the badass queens we love) while Bruce isn’t allowed to visit, but Albert can

4. NAMES

Likes to be called: love, dear, dearest, amor (any other variations of international nicknames) baby (in a loving way)

Likes to call: darling, my love, honey, dearest

Reasoning: he loves traditional names (he reads Jane Austin be for real) and it makes him feel safe and loved in the most wholesome way possible

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PAST THIS POINT PLEASE

5. SEX LIFE

It’s not bland it’s safe and lovey, it’s the kind that isn’t fucking it’s making love, Jason need reassurance and this feeds heavily into his ✨PRAISE KINK✨ and he doesn’t just receive praise, oh no oh no he will dish it out like “love I’m so proud, you’re perfect darling, I love you so much” Jason isn’t contrary to subbing and he loves the idea of his partner looking after him, loves the idea of loving his perfect amazing partner

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

JANE: I got some honey from this bee farm, and while the almond is rather underwhelming, the blueberry is almost too decadent. Like, mortals should not be able to consume something this good. It does help me from eating half the jar in one go, though. 

DIRK: Are you a bear? 

JANE: I’m trying, but getting T without a family doctor is borderline impossible.

[gemstone-roses]

Christmas fic party request:

Where reader is an fbi tech (post red John) and shoots her shot at Jane at the Xmas party. Smut. Lots of smut. Very comforting because I just imagine him being SO lovely. Age difference mentioned.

Patrick Jane x female reader

Summary: your feeling brave, the man you’ve been pining for is older than you, surely he’s not interested in you, right? Smut. 18+ only,protected sex, praise kink, lots of praise, eye contact , so much praise ugh I’m mad for this man okay! I’m begging people to send in more requests for him 🙏🙏

Warnings: explicit smut, 18 plus ONLY. Smut, protected sex, praise kink x10. Fingering. Pet names, Minors be gone from here!

A:N - I’m super proud of this one. Thankyou for requesting I hope you liked it 🥹🥹please feel free to request more for Patrick Jane too!! ❤️

The wince on your face as you glance around the room is prominent. You only came tonight for one reason. And he’s not here.

Your colleagues are busy getting merry, rigsby and van pelt wearing matching Christmas jumpers and paper hats. The music is so loud you can feel it coursing through you.

Jane had seen your mood dip around the holidays and he had made you promise you would at least show your face. You agreed solely because he said he would accompany you and your heart fluttered at his offer. The small touch he left on your elbow, the reassurance in his face when he said ‘I’ll be with you the whole time’ had you screaming internally.

You weren’t the newest member of the team, but you were quite a bit younger than Jane, and as he is so observant you did your absolute best to keep your crush on him secret.

It had been a long few years.

Fed up of the party, you duck out and find yourself wandering straight into something tall and hard.

Patrick

“Oh shit I’m so- you start, blinking at him as you try and play it off.

“Are you okay?” He asks rubbing your arm soothingly.

It seems your brain has short circuited as you just stare at him, he looks good, so good.

“Hey” he says softly, moving his hand to cup your face.

“Hey Jane” you squeak out, praying he can’t tell how flustered you are.

His brows crease at you, his thumb runs across the curve of your cheek and you cannot take this anymore so you bring your hand up to connect with the hand that’s on your face.

His eyes bore into yours as you wait for him to pull his hand away.

But he doesn’t.

“Jane, I- I need to tell you something I - you whisper closing your eyes as you speak.

“I know” he says lowly

“You what!” You say, horrified, eyes shooting open as heat rises to your face.

You try and turn away but he stops you, hands flying to your waist, gripping tightly.

Your lips part slightly as you take in the man in front of you. He smiles, leans forward and

Runs his thumb across your lip and once again your brain short circuits, you think you might die right there. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the way your pulse starts picking up and your eyes blow wide at his action.

“Jane?” You ask, voice cracking

“Yeah honey?” His voice slightly deeper, it makes your pussy clench and your heart soar.

“I love you” you say, and for a moment you panic thinking he doesn’t feel the same and then he closes his eyes and sighs, before pulling you in closer

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that” he growls.

He searches your face for any kind of hesitation and you nod, he smiles as he shakes his head.

“Use your words my darling”

“Hurry up and kiss me, please” you whine,

Your breath hitches as he cups your face again and brings his lips to yours. His lips are soft, he presses into you as he deepens the kiss.

You can’t help but let out a moan as he presses into you, it’s comforting, safe, and leaves you wanting more.

“Patrick” you whisper, as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, his hand comes back to cup your face, finger stroking slowly down your cheek.

“You okay?” He checks.

You nod a bit too quickly, and he chuckles.

“Shall we, go somewhere more private?” He whispers as he leans in to place a feather light kiss to your neck.

“God, yes” you mutter. He grabs your hand instantly and leads you up to his room above the office.

“It’s cold in here” you mutter as he shuts the door to his living space, instantly his arms are around you again, catching your lips in a searing kiss he cages you against the wall. One of his arms rest on the wall, the other tracing down to your waist. Your chest heaves as he teases his fingers up and down underneath your shirt.

“Please” you whine and he smirks, dipping his hand beneath the waistband.

“God your dripping” he murmurs rubbing your throbbing pussy through your panties. You clench your thighs together at his actions, and his words.

“Jane” you croak, desperate, needy.

“I love the sound of my name falling from your lips” he breathes, making you look at him before moving your panties and sliding in a finger.

It’s agonisingly slow, and of course Patrick can tell your getting frustrated with his teasing.

He speeds up a bit before adding another finger, your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Mm, Jane fuck” you whisper, he increases the pressure and starts to curl his fingers up as they enter you. His thumb comes to circle your clit and he catches your moan with a kiss.

“D-don’t stop” you moan as he presses his thumb into your clit as he curls his fingers hitting your G spot.

“Oh OH god” you whine

“That’s it honey” he soothes, breaking the kiss as your walls clench around his fingers.

“Jane” you say as you feel your orgasm approaching

“Come for me, that’s it, good girl” he says as he curls his fingers once more and you see stars as your orgasm crashes over you.

He holds you steady, fingers lazily pushing in and out of you as he fingers you through your orgasm.

“You okay”? He whispers placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod and he pulls you into his embrace.

“God that was- incredible” you pant, leaning in to give him a kiss.

He pulls you gently towards his bed.

He pushes you gently and you fall back

“Lie down” he whispers, he’s out of breath and it’s so arousing you can’t help the throb that courses through you.

Patrick unbuttons his suit jacket, hanging it up on the chair he climbs on top of you. Once again you feel safe within his presence.

His arms come to rest on either side of your head, he looks down at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Stop it” you say, trying to turn away from his stare.

“Don’t, don’t do that, your beautiful, let me see you yeah?” he tilts your face to look at him, as if you could love this man any more.

“Would you like to stop?” He asks and his face tells you that he would not mind one bit if you said yes, which just makes your heart pound faster in your chest.

“No, I’d very much like to continue” you say. And Jane runs his hand across your face, smiling.

You can feel Jane’s cock pressing into your leg through his jeans and you shift your hips slightly. He sucks in a breath as you sit up to undo his belt.

You do it slowly, payback. But it doesn’t last long as he ends up pulling it off himself before guiding you to lie back down.

He stands up and removes his pants before coming back and resting his hands at the top of yours.

He waits.

You nod.

He pulls down your pants and can’t help but moan at the wet patch in the middle of your underwear.

Your breath hitches as he leans down and presses his lips into your clothed pussy and hooks his fingers in the line of your panties and pulls them down.

Jane frees his hard cock from his boxers and it springs up against his stomach. A drop of precum glistening on the head.

You clench your thighs at the sight. Jane reaches for the condom under his bed and rolls it down.

He pumps his cock a few times before lining up with your entrance.

You breathe in as you prepare.

Jane’s hand find your clit once more,he watches your face as his fingers circle your clit. You relax slightly as he continues his actions.

“Hey” he says softly

“I’m okay” you say.

“Take a deep breath for me darling” he places one hand on your lower stomach and the other wraps around his cock.

You do, and he slides his cock into you, slowly.

“Good girl, keep breathing for me” he soothes as he pushes his cock all the way in. Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes deeper into you.

“Keep looking at me” he says and you throb around him.

“You’re doing so good for me” he praises as he goes to rub your clit again.

“Patrick” you whisper

“Can you- I need you to go-

“I know, I know” he coos, rubbing your hips with his hand,

“I’ll go slow, I got you” he soothes before thrusting into you slowly. One of his hands is still splayed across your stomach.

“Mmhm” you whine.

“You feel so good around my cock like this” he says, pushing his cock in and out, he feels you clench around him as he speaks.

You close your eyes as he angles himself a little differently, still thrusting slowly, but his cock is hitting your g spot.

“Patrick- fuck” you choke out.

“Mm, you make the prettiest sounds” he breathes, every moan out of you sending him closer to release.

He moves his hand from your stomach as he reaches for your puffy clit, gently applying pressure as he thrusts into you.

“Patrick, I’m-

“Look at me, good girl, come for me, come all over my cock” he encourages as he presses into you again.

You hear him groan just as his cock twitched inside you and your pussy clenches,

Your toes curl and you see stars as your orgasm washes over you. Your ears ring as you hear muffled praise falling from Patrick’s mouth as you come down from your high.

“So good for me, you did so good, you’re incredible my love” he soothes, rubbing gentle circles into your hip.

You whimper underneath him. He places his hands on either side of your face.

“Jane, that was - god that was perfect you say a lazy smile painting your face. A big smile lights up his face, “I love you” he says, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’ve wanted to say that for a very long time” he admits.

“Me too” you say shy all of a sudden, turning your face from him.

He tuts

“No honey, what did I say about doing that, now, I’ll get you a warm towel and some water and I’ll be back in a moment” he soothes as he gets up.

And you, couldn’t be happier.

[waywardnerd67]

Fireworks

Title: Fireworks Summary: When (Y/N)’s BFF invites her to a 4th of July party she would never imagine meeting the man of her dreams… literally. Main Characters: Glen Powell, Reader Pairing: Glen Powell x Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluffy/RPF Word Count: 5376 A/N: Jumping back into the saddle so please forgive all the rough edges.

“Honey, I’m home!”

(Y/N) looked up to see her best friend walking through her front door, “Addison! Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

She hugged her hard, missing her BFF more than she realized. A year ago, Addison got the opportunity of a lifetime to be the personal assistant to a Hollywood actor. She had been traveling the world, hanging out on movie sets and living her best life. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still living in their hometown of Austin, Texas working at the same high school, in the same position for nearly a decade.

“I’m sorry, my boss has had me planning this big Fourth of July party and today is the first day I’ve had time to come see you.”

They both sat down on her couch as (Y/N) paused her millionth rewatch of Supernatural, “How are you planning a party here if he lives in L.A.?”

Addison smiled, “He recently moved back to Austin, so it looks like I will be coming back here as well.”

(Y/N) let out a squeal hugging her friend tightly, “Oh my god, that’s amazing! I mean I know you’re gonna be busy but damn will it be good to have you back here.”

For the next few hours they caught up on each other’s lives or lack of one for (Y/N). They ordered dinner and were getting ready to watch one of their favorite rom-coms when Addison’s phone rang.

“Hey boss, what’s up?”

(Y/N) watched her friend’s face light up and suddenly her body was filled with envy. She was incredibly proud of the life her friend created but it was a reminder of how boring of a life she had. She couldn’t even remember the last thing she had been excited for except for maybe the new Twisters movie coming out later in the month.

“You got it. I will confirm everything and send you an email update.” Addison paused listening, “Yes, I will make sure to bring someone with me. See you tomorrow.”

“From the look on your face I would say you love your job.” Addison nodded with a smile, “I really do. He’s great and nothing like the other Hollywood douchebags. He’s just a good ole Texas boy. Kind of reminds me of Jensen and Jared.”

(Y/N) remembered her best friend's time volunteering at Creation Entertainment Supernatural conventions. She eventually was one of the workers who helped walk the actors to and from ops. Several times she had walked with Jared Padalecki or (Y/N)’s favorite actor, Jensen Ackles. That was how she had met them and found out they were truly just as nice and humble as everyone said they were.

“He wants me to bring someone to his party. What do you say?”

“Me?” She stared at Addison, “Don’t you think you should bring someone more interesting or fun?”

Her friend slipped her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, “No. There’s no one else I would rather bring than my best friend. Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there and hit it off.”

“Yeah. Right.” She scoffed, “The plain Jane school secretary hitting it off with some Hollywood hunk. This is reality and not fanfiction.”

“Please? For me? It would mean the world to me if you came and then I can finally introduce you to my boss.” Addison stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes then smiled, “Fine. Only because I love you.”

“Yay! If you want we can go get you a swimsuit and a new outfit. On me, of course, as a thank you.”

“I’m immediately regretting this decision…” She groaned.

The next day, they spent the day going to lunch and shopping. After one crying session in a dressing room and a slight argument in front of a cashier, (Y/N) arrived back home with three bags worth of stuff. Addison had convinced her to buy a two piece swimsuit. She was always hyper aware of her body even after losing a lot of weight. She was still plus size with killer curves and she was proud of her body. Knowing she was going to be around beautiful actors and models made her notice every little imperfection she had. Staring at the dark green checkered pattern suit made her stomach churn.

“It will be fine, (Y/N). No one is going to notice you anyway.” She murmured to herself.

The morning of July 4th, Addison was at her apartment bright and early, “I’m sorry it’s so early on your day off. My boss wants me at his house early and I figured you wanted to ride over with me.”

(Y/N) yawned, “It’s fine. I have my Monster and should be some form of human like by the time we get there.”

Addison led her out to a brand new Jeep Wrangler that was the same orange as the Longhorns. They threw their stuff in the back and headed off onto highway 290 towards Dripping Springs.

“Please tell me this is his car and not yours.” (Y/N) said as Addison started laughing.

“Yes, it’s his. I still have old faithful who recently hit 200,000 miles and is still purring like a kitten.” Addison turned on her Spotify playlist, “He’s a big Longhorns fan so anything he can get in burnt orange he does.”

One thing (Y/N) loved about living in Austin was the scenery. It had been awhile since she had driven out to Hill Country. The last remaining bluebonnets were holding on strong from a late blooming season mixing with other wildflowers. She couldn’t help to notice they were headed the same direction as Family Business Brewery.

“If we’re going to Family Business and Jensen is going to be there then I need some notice to calm my inner fangirl.”

Addison shook her head, “No, he just lives near there. I know he invited Jensen and Jared’s families but I think they have a convention this weekend.”

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief then continued to admire the scenery around her while they sang to their favorite songs. Soon they were pulling up to a newly built, gated home. The main house was a subtly modern farmhouse with a big wrap around porch. Addison parked in front of the three car garage behind the house and that’s when (Y/N) saw a beautiful red barn straight out of a western movie.

“Wow…” She said, grabbing her things and following her friend to the pool house.

“Make yourself at home, this is where I stay. It’s easier for me to be close by than to have my own place and worry about subletting it.”

(Y/N) found pictures of her best friend in various cities, countries with celebrities she admired. There were also plenty of pictures of them together throughout their friendship including childhood and being roommates at UT-Austin. She looked at one picture of Addison pulled into a big hug from Glen Powell.

“You’ve met Glen Powell and didn’t tell me!” (Y/N) smacked her BFF’s shoulder, “How dare you.”

Addison laughed, “He’s a sweetheart.”

“Talk about good ole Texas boy… by god not that I need another bow legged Texan to love, but whew!” (Y/N) fanned herself.

“Come on, help me organize the food and everything before my boss gets home.”

There were tables set up in the massive backyard with a food buffet large enough to feed an army. (Y/N) found herself enjoying helping Addison get everything ready. She was helping the DJ get set up in the barn when Addison called out to her.

“Hey, my boss is here. I’m going to the main house to help him with something then I’ll be back.”

“Got it boss lady!” (Y/N) laughed as her friend rolled her eyes.

She was putting the last touches of the Firecracker themed tables together when a low, raspy voice came from behind her.

“Nicely done. You must be Addison’s best friend.”

She turned around and froze, “Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

He laughed holding out his hand to her, “Yes, but not the OG Glen. He’s in the house right now. You’re (Y/N), right? Addison talks about you all the time.”

She slipped her hand into his then flinched from the electric current running up her arm. From his wide green eyes, she assumed he felt it too.

“Uh, y-yeah that’s me. Um…” She swallowed hard, “Sorry, my inner fangirl is having a mild heart attack right now.”

His deep, rich laugh blanketed her body in warmth, “Well hopefully your inner fangirl won’t pass out. Calling 911 is not on my list today.”

“I promise, she’ll be fine. Still getting used to my BFF hanging out with celebrities, especially ones that I love.”

The bright smile on his face nearly melted her heart, “Awe, so you love me?”

“Uh… yes, I mean… yes I love your movies and you seem like a really great person.” (Y/N) mentally kicked herself.

Shut up. Stop talking you weirdo.

“Thanks, I try to be a good guy. Main reason why I moved back to Austin. Stay grounded in my home roots. Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I better get back to the main house and see what kind of chaos my family is causing for Addison.”

“Oh, okay. Talk to you later.” (Y/N) watched as he walked out of the barn then finally let out a shaky breath.

She immediately went in search of her best friend, finding her near the buffet. She smacked her shoulder several times as Addison tried to defend herself with tongs.

“What the hell (Y/N)!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Glen Powell was your boss?! A little warning would have been nice so I could prepare myself.”

Addison chuckled, “Damn, I missed you meeting him. I was hoping to see your face.”

She smacked her shoulder again, “Not funny. It was like the first time I met Jensen and my brain short circuited.”

Now Addison was nearly falling down laughing, “Did you word vomit all over him?”

“No! Though I did mention my inner fangirl having a heart attack. Also, the first thing out of my mouth was ‘Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

“Oh my god!” Her friend was rolling in laughter, “God, I wish I had been there for that.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’ve already embarrassed myself and who knows who else will be here for me to embarrass myself in front of.”

(Y/N) started to head towards the front of the house when Addison reached out grabbing her arm.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Glen only invited a few actors that live around here over. Honestly, I think Zac Levi is the only one confirmed to be coming. Other than that, it’s mostly Glen’s family and friends.”

“Zac Levi?” She stared at her, “Zachary fucking Levi… oh god, I’m out. Me and my inner fangirl cannot handle this.”

Addison ran in front of her, grabbing a hold of her shoulders, “(Y/N), they are just humans like you and me.”

“Humans that are sculpted out of marble by the good lord himself with a good heaping pile of sex god appeal. Not like me. They’re main character energy and I’m one of the background people no one sees.”

“(Y/N) stop. Trust me, stay and hang out with me. Glen said once everything was set up that I was off the rest of the night. That means, it’s you and me hanging out by the pool, eating our weight in BBQ and watching fireworks. With some particularly good eye candy around.”

Addison was looking at her with pleading eyes, “Please stay and find out for yourself that they are normal dudes. Just like when we hung out with Jared and Jensen.”

(Y/N) sighed, “Only because I love you more than life itself and I have no way of getting home.”

Addison pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.”

“Group hug? I want to join!” Before (Y/N) could look up, she was sandwiched between her best friend and a firm body behind her. Instantly she was enveloped in a woodsy smell with a hint of citrus. Glen squeezed them together making both girls laugh.

“Can’t… breathe… Powell.” Addison managed to squeak out as he let go of them.

“Sorry, just wanted to be a part of your little moment.” He joked.

(Y/N) turned around sucking in a breath and trying to keep her jaw from slacking. Standing before her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Which said a lot since up until that point it had been Jensen Ackles who was the most beautiful man in her mind. Glen was wearing a pair of swim trunks with firecrackers all over them that hung low on his hips. His golden skin was glowing beneath the Texas sun and on top of his golden hair was an American flag cowboy hat.

“Ladies, I believe everything is set up and our first wave of guests have arrived. That means, Addison, you are officially off the clock and my last request is for you both to have a great time tonight.”

They looked at one another then saluted Glen saying together, “Yes sir.”

His laughter filled the air, “Your salutes need some work but we can work on that later. Now, go! Get drunk, eat and have fun.”

Addison hooked her arm with (Y/N)’s and they headed back towards the pool. For the first couple of hours, (Y/N) laid out on one of the chairs by the pool. One of the only things she loved about parties was people watching. There was no shortage of people to watch here. Glen’s family was an absolute joy to meet. Currently, his dad was in the pool playing with his grandkids while his mom was sitting on the edge hanging her feet into the water.

(Y/N) watched as Zac Levi walked through the main house with a cooler and a few of his friends. She was surprised to see him pull Addison into a hug then kiss her cheek. She made a mental note to ask her what was up with that later. Sipping on her beer, she watched as a group of guys including Glen and Zac started a game of football. Addison was talking with Glen’s sisters when suddenly there was a shout.

“Watch out!”

Before (Y/N) could look up, she was hit with something hard in her chest. She let out a loud grunt and her beer dumped down the front of her.

“Shit! (Y/N) are you alright?” Glen asked as he and Addison ran up to her.

She groaned, “Fine, just covered in beer.”

“I can show you where you clean up.” Glen said, taking the football that had hit her and tossing it to his brother-in-law.

He held out his hand to her and helped her up from her seat. She looked back at Addison who was smiling like the Cheshire cat. She narrowed her eyes at her friend suddenly smelling a set up and beer… lots of beer.

Glen led her into the main house and up the stairs. They walked into the largest bedroom she had ever seen and immediately knew this had to be his room.

“You can use my bathroom to wash up and I’ll get you some clothes to wear.”

She chuckled, “Um, I’m pretty sure your clothes won’t fit me.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, “I’m sure I can find something or if you prefer to walk around in a towel only then that’s cool too.”

“No! Oh god, no.” She sighed, “Thank you. I appreciate anything you can find for me.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked into his large closet while she went into his master bathroom and shut the door.

Leaning against it, she took a moment to calm her frantic nerves. A week ago, she was home rewatching Top Gun: Maverick and now she was standing in Glen Powell’s bathroom. Quickly, she stripped out of her soiled clothes and swimsuit. She turned on the water of the massive shower and let the hot water beat down on her tense muscles. She heard the door opening and immediately tried to cover herself.

“There’s clothes on my bed for you.”

(Y/N) noticed he had his hand covering his eyes even though he couldn’t see her from where the door was. Her heart skipped from the small gesture.

“T-Thank you. I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” He closed the door.

(Y/N) noticed his shampoo was the citrus she had smelled earlier while his body wash was the woods smell. She decided that combination was her new favorite smell. Once she was out of the shower and wrapped in one of his towels she walked out to find his door closed. On the bed was an extra large Longhorns t-shirt and gym shorts. There was also a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer-briefs which she was thankful for. However, not having a bra to wear was going to be difficult.

She stepped into his closet and chuckled from all the burnt orange shirts. She found one of his tank tops and slipped it on. She rolled the bottom up beneath her breasts and tied it off with her ponytail. The girls would at least be secured but one good cool wind and her nipples would be on display.

“Maybe it’s time to step up to whiskey.” She muttered as she slipped on the rest of Glen’s clothes.

Opening the door, she found a muscular, tan back standing there like a bodyguard, “Sorry, I just didn’t want anyone walking in here on you. My family is not big on boundaries nor are my niece and nephew.”

She chuckled, “Thanks for keeping watch and for the clothes.”

He turned around and she watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body. Goosebumps spread across her flushed skin. When his eyes came back up to hers they were darker and filled with something that she refused to let herself believe was there.

“Have to say, those look way better on you than on me.”

(Y/N)’s default mode clicked on whenever she received compliments, “I highly doubt that, but thanks. They’re at least more comfortable than my swimsuit. By the way, do you have somewhere I could wash my clothes out?”

“Yeah, give them to me and I’ll put them in the washer. You can head back out to enjoy the party.” She handed him her suit and clothes, “Man, I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in this. I bet it looked great on you.”

He headed down the stairs leaving (Y/N) speechless. Was Glen Powell flirting with her? No way. She was delusional from the alcohol and sun. She headed back outside where she found Addison swimming in the pool with Zac. Seeing them together, she knew she didn’t need to ask if they were together. It was obvious by the way they looked at one another that they were. Once again, (Y/N)’s green eyed monster raged inside of her. Deciding she needed some more time alone, she headed out towards the barn then kept walking to the field behind it.

She was watching a team of guys setting up fireworks for the big display later that night. She could still hear everyone laughing and having fun behind her, suddenly she felt tears falling down her cheeks. She loved her best friend, but it was obvious she didn’t fit into her life anymore. She was hanging out and dating celebrities and traveling the world.

What was she doing? Still working the same job and never allowing anyone to get close to her. She gave up on dating after her one and only boyfriend had cheated on her. Did she want someone in her life? The family and white picket fence? Of course, but the closer to forty she was getting the further away that dream seemed to be getting. Seeing how happy Addison was and how wonderful her life was a harsh reminder of how meaningless her own life was.

“You okay?”

Turning around, she found Glen walking up now wearing a navy tank top and his dark Ray Bans covering his eyes. She quickly wiped away the wayward tears.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

He leaned his forearms against the fence, looking out over the field, “I see you found my ‘I need a moment’ spot. I love coming out here and just being. I don’t have to be actor Glen, but just me.”

“I bet that is exhausting.” He nodded as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, “On behalf of fans everywhere, I appreciate all the hard work you put into your characters. I can’t tell you the number of nights I have watched one of your rom-coms laughing and making my day better.”

He looked down at her with a smile, “Thanks, that means a hell of a lot to me.”

“However, I have to say, I wish they would pair you up with a woman your age. Seeing you make out with a woman ten years younger gives girls like me a complex.” She chuckled.

“How so?” He asked, turning towards her.

She sighed, “You never see a leading woman that is both older and doesn’t have a model’s body. The average size of a woman is 14/16 which is plus size and if I had to guess I bet the majority of rom-com audience is like me. A woman in her late thirties, plus size, single and looking for hope that men like Glen Powell would be interested in her.”

“You don’t think guys like me would be with a woman like you?”

His question was genuine, but made her scoff, “In the movies they aren’t. Why would I believe that in real life? Probably why I’ve been single for over a decade now. It’s easier to fantasize over fictional men or celebrities than putting myself out there to get humiliated.”

He stepped closer to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and his glossy eyes were staring down into hers. She had dreamt of him looking at her in this very way a million times. The way he looked at every leading lady in one of his rom-coms.

“What if I told you that I do find you attractive? That I find you incredibly sexy.”

“I’d say that you’re a great actor.” She tried to look away, but he gently grabbed her chin making her look at him.

“I’m not acting. The moment Addison showed me a picture of the two of you, I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. The way she gushes about you and all the work you do for your students. The difference you’re making in their lives. I couldn’t imagine anything more sexy than a woman who loves to help those who need it.”

(Y/N) stepped away from him, “It’s really nothing special. Yes, I’m there for them and help them in any way I can, but so do a lot of staff. Honestly, there’s nothing special about me. I’m definitely not gorgeous. I mean, you’re around beautiful actresses and models all the time. They’re gorgeous, me not so much.”

“Addison warned me that you usually put yourself down when you receive compliments.” He took a step towards her engaging in an awkward dance as she stepped backwards.

“Warned you? So, this was a set up?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Did she really think you were going to magically fall in love with me and sweep me off my feet. Which by the way, you couldn’t, not literally anyway.”

“I asked her to introduce us. Yes, I found you attractive and after hearing Addison talk about you non-stop in Oklahoma, I wanted to meet you. Addison is not only my assistant but a dear friend and if you’re important to her then you’re important to me as well.”

He closed the distance between them pressing her back against the fence and caging her in with his strong arms on either side of her. He leaned in towards her and she sucked in a breath, holding it in her chest.

“I wasn’t hoping to fall in love or sweep you off your feet. Which I could totally do.” He smirked, “I was hoping to meet the amazing woman Addison loves so much and who happens to be fucking gorgeous.”

“Glen, I…” She let out a trembling breath, “I'm nobody and I don’t do one night stands. Even if it’s with a sexy movie star that I’m sure would give me the orgasm of my life. It’s not me and I don’t see you wanting to settle down with a high school secretary.”

He leaned closer to her. His nose brushing alongside hers and his lips merely an inch from hers. She wanted to look away, but his eyes were mesmerizing.

“Won’t know unless you give me a chance.”

His lips pressed against hers. They were soft and tasted of tequila as he pulled her bottom lips between his teeth. Suddenly, her body felt like it was on fire and she wanted more. Needed more. His large hands fell to her hips and pulled her tighter against him. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her hands into his soft hair. His sunglasses falling from his head was enough to knock her senses back into place. She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him gently away.

“We… I… this can’t happen. It’s not happening.” She stammered.

(Y/N) took off back towards the barn as Glen called after her, “(Y/N)! (Y/N), please wait!”

She didn’t stop until she was in the pool house and in Addison’s room with the door shut. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she sank to the floor beside her bed. What the hell was she doing? Glen Powell had kissed her. Told her she was gorgeous and yet she was sitting on the floor crying. Why couldn’t she be more impulsive and have one night with a man who was way out of her league? Looking at her reflection in the glass from the sliding door, she sighed.

“Because you catch feelings, (Y/N).” She whispered.

“(Y/N)?” Addison’s voice came through the door, “You alright?”

She opened the door, “Seriously, Glen Powell?”

“Let me explain.”

“Addison, what did you think was going to happen? You couldn’t actually believe this was going to work in any sort of way.”

They sat down on her bed, “I talk about you non-stop with him. I’ve told him all your stories from school with your kiddos. I’ve told him how I’m worried about you being alone all the time and how I wish you could meet a nice guy like him. How proud I am of all you’ve done for your health and how you love your body for what it is.”

(Y/N) placed her head in her hands, “And what, he was like ‘oh I want to meet this chick’?”

“Not his exact words, but yes. When he started planning this party, he asked if there was anyone I would like to invite. I told him Zac and his friends…” She paused looking at her bashfully, “Yeah, I’m kind of seeing Zac Levi.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I could tell that from the lovey-dovey looks you give one another. After my breakdown you can spill all about how that happened.”

Addison nodded, “Anyway, Glen asked if I wanted to invite you. I told him that you’re pretty introverted and didn’t like going to parties. He dropped it, but then when he was having me finalize the list of people I noticed he had added your name at the end of the list. When I asked him about it, all he said was he wanted to meet the amazing best friend I kept talking about.”

“So, you decided to turn it into a set up? Knowing full and well I would never fall for it.”

Her friend turned towards her, “It was never a set up. I warned him how you are. I asked him directly what he was up to. He told me that he found you attractive and wanted to get to know you.” She grabbed her hands, “Honestly (Y/N), I think he’s just a dude who is nervous to ask out a beautiful girl. It’s hard for him to meet anyone who doesn’t see him as only a famous actor and I really think he wants this part of his life to be as normal as possible.”

(Y/N) groaned, “You know this sounds like a fanfic I would read on Tumblr, right?”

Addison laughed, “Oh I’m well aware. However, doesn’t it make you want to see what happens? Usually, the next part would be you going to find him and you two would have a moment of tension that snaps. Then wham, bam, smutty dreams fulfilled.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” (Y/N) took a couple deep breaths.

“That is not usually in the fanfics. Take the time you need, but please come back out and hang out with us. If anything, I’ll introduce you to Zac and you can fangirl over him.”

“I love you, but get out. I can’t even with you right now.” (Y/N) laughed as Addison hugged her.

Once she was alone again, (Y/N) went into the bathroom to splash cool water on her face. Looking into the mirror, she gave herself a once over. She walked out into the bedroom letting out a surprise yelp when she found Glen sitting on the bed.

“Scared the crap out of me.” She held her chest.

His eyes were focused on the floor, “Sorry. Addison said you were in here.” He stretched his long fingers out over his thighs before looking up at her.

“I wanted to apologize for coming onto you so strong and kissing you. I should have been more of a gentleman about it, not that I regret kissing you because I don’t.”

She sat down next to him, “I don’t either and you don’t need to apologize. It was nice to know I remembered how to kiss a man.”

He chuckled finally looking over at her, “It’s like I’m living out a meet-cute rom-com without a script and it’s terrifying. There’s a fine line between endearing and creepy. I feel like I’m crossing the line into creepy.”

(Y/N)’s hand was trembling but she placed it over his, “You’re not creepy. Addison told me about how you wanted to get to know me. I think it’s been so long since a man has shown any interest in me that I don’t know how to react to it. Let alone that man being someone I have fantasized about being the Leading Man in my own life.”

“Is there any way we could start over? You being you and me being just a normal dude wanting to ask you out?” He laced their fingers together, “Or at least ask you to watch fireworks with me?”

(Y/N) smiled, “I would love to watch fireworks with you… what was your name again?”

His breathtaking smile appeared as he stood up in front of her, “Hi, I’m Glen and you?”

She took his outstretched hand, standing up, “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you totally normal dude who is definitely not a famous sexy actor.”

He laughed pulling her into his side slipping his arm around her shoulders, “That’s me. Normal dude who is thankful to have a chance to be in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

“Oh jeez, please stop with the compliments. They make me uncomfortable.” She sighed, sliding her arm around his waist.

-----

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[acotarspritz]

Medals and Misunderstandings - an ACOTAR Olympics AU

Azriel x swimmer!reader

Blurb : You run into Azriel in the Olympic village and he can't seem to get you off his mind, but when you see him again you are convinced the handsome guy with amber eyes doesn't like you, so you go out of your way to avoid him. (Part 1)

Author's Note: AHHHHH here is the first part of my Olympics inspired Acotar AU. I will most likely do multiple short series or oneshots for different characters (if you have any ideas/ requests please send them in), and I will most definitely write a second part for this, I just wanted to get this first part out before overthinking it and disappearing from the face of the Earth! This is my first time writing fanfiction for ACOTAR, and my first time writing fanfiction in a long time (live, laugh, love the inspiration draught), so please don't expect me to turn into Jane Austen. Other than that, hope you enjoy !!

warnings : english is not my first language so please excuse any/all grammar errors, not entirely proofread, slight mentions of injury, slight mentions of burn scars (Az's hands), swearing, reading thinking people are laughing at her

lemme know if I missed any and I'll add them !

-~~-

You couldn’t believe your alarm hadn’t rang. You thought back to the night, before when you had set it to make sure you would have enough time for breakfast before practice, as you ran to exit the Olympic Village. The good news was that the pool wasn’t too far from the village, but as you looked back at your watch you felt your panic rise. No matter how close the pool was, you were still very late, and you knew your coach would be extremely angry when you showed up.

Before you could even contemplate what she would say to you, you felt yourself run head-first into something, and the next thing you knew you were sprawled out on the pavement. Pain shot up your spine at the impact, and you were grateful you had packed painkillers in your bag last night. 

A hand appeared in front of you, to help you up you assumed. As if your morning couldn’t go any worse, of course you had to run head first into someone. You looked up as you grabbed the hand held out to you, and your eyes fell on what you were sure had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. He helped you up with a sheepish smile, but all you could focus on was his eyes, like pools of molten gold. 

The stranger cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, I should have been more focused on where I was going, are you alright?”

His deep, slightly raspy voice broke you out of your daydream, and you realized in panic that you were still extremely late to practice. You grabbed your bag that had fallen off your shoulder when you ended up on the floor, and looked back at him before spluttering “I’m okay, um, it was my fault really, I was the one running and I-”, your phone ringing in your pocket, most likely your coach, told you that it was really time to get to practice, “I have to go, sorry!” 

You were already running as you uttered your apology, leaving behind the mysteriously attractive man with honey eyes, and heading to practice, where you were certain to get an earful from your coach. 

-~~-

As Azriel walked back to the cafeteria to grab breakfast with his teammates, he couldn’t help but think of the girl he had run into this morning. Well, technically, the girl who ran into him. He had gone for an early morning walk to clear his head of the nightmares that had plagued him and had made it impossible for him to get enough sleep, when you had barreled into him at full speed. He hadn’t seen you coming, and before he could react you were on the floor in front of him. He had hesitated before holding his hand out to help you up, the burn marks on his hands often causing people to avoid touching him as though he carried some sort of disease, yet you had grabbed it without a second thought and let him pull you up. 

Maybe you hadn’t noticed, or just didn’t care, but your reaction had caused him to falter slightly. You had run off about as quickly as you had run into him, and you would probably not think twice about him today, but he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind. You had looked so effortlessly beautiful, with your hair up, and your slightly red cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if it was from running or embarrassment. Were you an athlete? Or maybe a volunteer? 

Azriel didn’t have much more time to think about who you were as he had already made it to the cafeteria, and he saw two of his teammates and friends sitting while waiting for him. He sat next to Cassian, who passed him a black coffee and a few slices of toast that he had grabbed, knowing that Azriel didn’t like anything too complicated for breakfast. He gave a small smile at how well the man knew him before sipping on his coffee. 

His mind once again drifted back to you, as he listened to Cassian rant about his girlfriend, Nesta. He hadn’t recognized the colors you were wearing, but maybe you had decided to wear something other than your olympian uniform, which made finding out who you were a lot more complicated. There were thousands of athletes participating in the games this year, and even more volunteers, what were the odds of him running into you again? 

Azriel could feel someone’s eyes on him, and looked up to find Rhys, another teammate and his team captain, looking at him with a calculating gaze. Cassian, who had stopped talking when he realized neither man was listening to him complain about how much time his girlfriend spent reading instead of with him, whined, “How come you guys never care when I’m having relationship problems?” 

Azriel and Rhys both let out a laugh. They were used to his dramatics of course, having grown up together, but that never made his reactions any less entertaining. Before he could complain any more, Rhys shot him a look before turning back to Azriel. “What’s on your mind, Az?”

He wasn’t sure how Rhys knew something was bothering him. He had always been able to see when Azriel had something on his mind, even if Azriel was convinced he didn’t show it, almost as though he could read his mind. But then again, they had known each other for years, and were incredibly in tune with each other, which is why all three of them worked so well on the field, or perhaps Azriel just wasn’t as discrete as he had always thought he was. 

“Nothing’s bothering me, I’m just a little tired I guess,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. 

He could see Rhys’ eyes narrow as he looked over his face. Whatever he saw convinced him to drop the subject, but he sent Azriel a look that very clearly told him that the conversion was not over. Cassian must have sensed that the conversation would not go any further, and broke all seriousness as he exclaimed, “Now can we get back to the matter at hand? Nesta loves her books more than she loves me!” and sent the two other men into a laughing fit.

-~~-

You had underestimated how angry your coach would be because of your tardiness. Not only had she yelled so loud you were certain everyone within five kilometers of the pool had heard her, she had also pushed you a lot harder; more core strength exercises that had left your abs throbbing, and so many more laps than she usually made you do. You were already slightly sore when you had sat with Tarquin at dinner, but you were sure tomorrow it would be much worse. 

Varian and Cresseida had joined the two of you about twenty minutes ago with their food, as you guys had been doing since the Olympics had begun a few days ago, and were currently arguing over who the faster runner was. It was a silly argument, considering neither of them were runners, and you were pretty sure the only time you had seen Cresseida run was when there was a sale in one of her favorite shops. Suddenly, the table fell quiet and a cocky smile appeared on Varian’s face, and you knew exactly who had approached your table. 

It was a routine by now; Tarquin, Varian, Cresseida and you would sit down for dinner all together, and half way through, Amren, Varian’s girlfriend or something of the sort at least, would join. No one truly knew what those two were, and your questions remained unanswered everytime you brought it up, but everyone knew they were something and that was enough.

You turned your head to give her a small smile, which she answered with a slight nod towards you before heading to sit next to Varian. She often came off as quite cold and disinterested, but you had grown to see beyond her facade over the years of her “dating” your friend, and had also grown to appreciate her calm presence, a big contrast to Varian’s ever present energy.

The two broke off into their own conversation, so you turned back to your other friends, who were already looking at you. They exchanged a quick look and before you could try and detect what they had communicated in that instant, Tarquin looked back at you, “So how badly did you get rammed into this morning by Coach Claire?”

Cresseida was quick to reach across the table to smack his arm, “You fucking idiot, we said we would ease into it! God, I should have known you would be useless,” her irritated tone softened when you sighed and she asked, “You okay Y/n? We all know how bad she can be…”

“Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry. I think she’s just stressed, you know? And I know she expects perfection at every moment of every day, but god it’s exhausting. Plus I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow.” 

Both your friends smiled in compassion. It was no secret how strict Coach Claire was, and how much she valued perfection above all. You were just glad your qualifying rounds didn’t start tomorrow, as it would give you a bit more time to overcome the soreness that was slowly increasing in your legs.

You all turned to Amren and Varian when you heard her scoff and throw up a middle finger to another table in the cafeteria. “I swear if they don’t stop staring I’m going over there and hitting all three of them. Any time I sit with anyone else they take it so personally as if I’m not allowed to have a life that doesn’t revolve around them.” Amren shook her head and you heard her mutter “Illyrian babies” under her breath, which prompted you to turn and see what table she was talking about.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met with the honey-colored eyes of the stranger you bumped into this morning, sitting between two other guys. You took the opportunity to look him over, as you hadn’t had much time when you had seen him earlier. He had messy black hair that kind of flopped over his forehead, as though he often passed a hand through it in frustration, or when he was thinking, and he was buff. You expected him to be, considering you thought you had run into a streetlight when you ran into him, but still, he was more buff than you had thought. His arms were huge, and when you mentally compared them to yours, you found the image ridiculous. Your eyes drifted over his chest, where his dark navy blue, almost dark purple, shirt stretched, and you narrowed your eyes to try and read the silver writing you could see on his top. Velaris. 

So he represented Velaris? Just like Amren then. Velaris was pretty well known across the United Courts of Prythian, and although it belonged to Night, it often participated in competitions as an independent federation. You looked back at his face and offered him a small smile, all while raising your hand in greeting. Although you were very embarrassed about your encounter this morning, it was no reason to be rude, especially if these were people that Amren was close to. 

You felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment when he simply stared at you with those amber eyes, and did not smile back, or even give an indication that he recognized you. You quickly turned back to your table, slightly humiliated. Cresseida raised an eyebrow as she looked at you, clearly having seen the interaction go down, and you simply shook your head as your cheeks became even more red. 

A boisterous laugh broke out somewhere behind you, and you instinctively glanced at the table where you knew the Velaris athletes were sitting, and your humiliation only worsened. The laugh belonged to the man sat on the right of the one you had run into, and you noted that although your mysterious stranger was buff, the one laughing was somehow even more muscular, and had more of a rugged look. The one on the other side was also laughing, although his laughter was more controlled. The five girls, three of which had originally been facing away from you, were all looking at your table, no, they were all looking at you, and to make matters worse, the stranger from that morning was still looking at you, but you knew he recognized you.

Your eyes quickly shifted to the hands that were in your lap, and you found yourself playing with your ring to avoid focusing on the burning slowly growing in your eyes. Were they really laughing at you? You wanted to say they weren’t, but considering they were all looking at you, the odds really weren’t in your favor. Okay so maybe bumping into him this morning had been embarrassing, but was it really that bad? Or perhaps they were laughing at your humiliating attempt to be nice and saying hello. Or maybe your hair looked like a bird’s nest. Did you have something in your teeth? God why had no one told you you looked bad when you had arrived at dinner. You knew you should have made more of an effort, but practice had been so exhausting that you truly didn’t have the energy. 

You blinked back the tears as you felt someone put their hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Y/n what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Tarquin. You met his blue eyes and gave him the best smile you could muster, despite the turmoil in your head. “I’m just sore, I think I’m gonna go to bed early,” you pushed yourself out of your chair and gave them all a small smile, choosing to ignore the concerned look on everyone’s faces, “Goodnight guys, see you tomorrow,” and walked out of the cafeteria, to go find sanctuary in your room, without a single glance back to your table. 

A single glance would have shown you Azriel’s beet-red face as he stood up from his table to escape his friends mocking him, and would have shown you Azriel heading to your table, as if to talk to you. But you did not look back, and as you lay in bed that night, thinking back to the mysterious athlete from Velaris, you decided that it was okay if he didn’t like you, and it was okay if they had all laughed at your expense. You were at the Olympics and would not let anyone, especially a man, ruin that experience for you.

-~~-~~-

And voilaaaa the first part! Please do tell me what you think and what you thought!

@julesvanslutta i wasn't sure if you wanted me to tag you for a specific character or not, but here you go !