#fic: bouquet full of loathing

[lucienarcheron]

flower shop / modern au ; person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” | Bouquet Full of Loathing

[fuckyeselucien]

Creator Highlight #3 - @lucienarcheron

Welcome back to Elucien Creator Highlights!! We want to take a moment to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their freetime and creative energy to share their work with us!

Today we want to highlight @lucienarcheron

Not only is Gigi one of the nicest elucien's around, she's also been in the fandom since 2016, making her one of the original eluciens on tumblr. Don't let her sweetness fool you, though: she can write a filthy fic when the mood strikes! And that's not even mentioning the incredibly popular Spirit Meets the Bones which features fandom favorite Iris giving everyones favorite Autumn Court heir a hard time on the road to love.

Bouquet Full of Loathing: Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Quiet Thunder: Lucien expressing his frustrations to Elain. This takes place post-ACOFAS.

Frenzy: Elain and Lucien like to spend their yearly mating anniversary fully wrapped in each other, sinking into a frenzy. Very NSFW.

You can also find more on her masterlist!

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 7 | S.R

Not my gif

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - sorry it has been so long since I updated this, I have not have the impetus to write this fic but I am trying to restart it. Massive thank you to @reidselle for encouraging me to start writing this again and for reading chapters and discussing ideas with me, you are an angel 🖤

Chapter Summary - Spencer’s still reeling from the aftermath of his drunken mistake. With Luke’s words playing on his mind, he starts to realise his feelings towards his broken marriage aren’t as black and white as he thought.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - mentions of affairs, Spencer questions everything, swearing.

WC - 5.1k

Chapter 7 - All At Once

And all at once the crowd begins to sing,

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

Maybe you want her, maybe you need her,

Maybe you started to compare to someone not there. 

The weekend's events had taken so much out of Spencer he didn’t have a chance to call you and apologise for his drunken behaviour. 

In fact, if he was perfectly honest, with everything else going on he’d completely pushed it to the back of his mind. 

On Sunday he spent the day at the mall with the girls in an attempt to cheer Daisy up. 

Spencer loathed shopping. He only went shopping when he absolutely had to. Malls were too busy for his liking and most things were overpriced. But Daisy and Lily loved to shop, mostly because it wasn’t their hard earned money they were spending. 

He spent the day traipsing after them, lugging bags full of their hauls around while they ran from shop to shop excitedly. 

He practically brought Daisy a whole new wardrobe while Lily damn near put the toy store out of business. 

They ate pretzels in the food court while Spencer rested his aching arms from being their designated bag carrier. 

Lily fell asleep on the car ride home surrounded by all her new toys while Daisy excitedly looked over her new clothes. 

He spent hundreds of dollars trying to make up for the way Maeve had hurt her. He even let the girls talk him into buying an even bigger, plusher and more expensive bed for a dog he hated who never slept in his own bed anyway. 

By the time they made it home he was exhausted. He was too tired to cook so he ordered pizza which they ate in the living room while they rewatched Encanto for what had to be the fiftieth time. 

When he put them to bed they were both singing We Don’t Talk About Bruno, which Spencer also had stuck in his head when he crawled into his own bed. 

He also found himself humming it absent-mindedly in the shower the next morning, mentally cursing his girls for making him sit through that movie again. 

It was still whirring its way around his brain while he made the girls breakfast. 

He drove them to school after breakfast and dropped Taco off at the kennel and it was only after he was finally alone, his thoughts fell back to his monumentally stupid drunken mistake. 

Checking his watch and seeing he had time before he had to be on campus he made a pit stop at the florists. 

It was a good job he had time to spare because he spent an unfathomable amount of time staring at a wide variety of flowers in various colours.

He must have looked utterly lost as a young girl soon came over and asked if he needed help. 

Yes, he most certainly did. 

“I uh…I need something that says I’m sorry.” He toyed awkwardly with the strap of his satchel. 

The girl gave him a slightly playful smile. 

“You wouldn’t believe how often we get people in here looking for the exact same thing.” 

“What would you recommend?” 

“Well, lilies are great for apologising as they can express a new chapter. But roses are really romantic. White orchids are also good as they represent sincerity. And blue hyacinths look stunning in an apology bouquet.” She motioned around the various flowers she was describing while Spencer stared wide eyed in confusion. 

“Uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “All of them. Just put all of them in a bouquet. A huge one. It doesn’t matter what it costs.” 

“Sure.” She looked a little startled by his choice, most guys just went for whatever was cheapest. 

She admired his decision. 

Spencer tapped his foot in the ground while the girl went about fashioning a giant bouquet of whites and blues and reds and yellows. 

She tied them all off in a big red ribbon and looked proud by her creation. 

Admittedly it did look beautiful and Spencer knew next to nothing about flower arranging. 

He paid two hundred dollars for the privilege and thanked the young girl before hurrying out of the store barely able to see over the large array. 

He quickly stopped at a coffee house and ordered an extra large cinnamon latte which was your favourite. 

The flowers took up the whole front seat of the car and the smell was overwhelming so he had to drive with the windows open. 

He felt heads turning and eyebrows furrowed into frowns as he got out of his car with the huge bouquet. It was like a large flashing beacon that he’d fucked up. 

He tried to ignore all the eyes on him as he waited for you outside the psychology building, flowers in one hand, coffee in the other. 

The weather was desperately trying to warm up and was slowly succeeding and the morning sun beating down on him made sweat gather at his temples. 

The nerves didn’t help. 

You couldn’t have looked any less amused when you spotted him, only just able to see him over the almost comically large bunch of flowers. 

If he wasn’t standing right outside the building you needed access to, you would have walked any other direction to avoid him. 

You clenched your jaw tightly and hugged your purse close to your body as you approached him. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke the second you were in earshot. “I am so, so sorry. I was drunk, not that that’s an excuse but I was. I had a bad day and I was a fucking idiot. I am so, so sorry Y/N.” 

You didn’t say anything. Not a word. Honestly you didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t either be fuck you or go to hell. 

He proffered the flowers towards you. 

“I’m really, really sorry.” He pouted a little.

He did look apologetic, almost pathetically so and there was a part of you that felt sorry for him. 

Not a big enough part to forgive him though. 

You took the flowers from his hand and Spencer momentarily believed things were going to be ok. 

But then you dropped the bouquet on the floor and stamped heavily on them with your heeled boot.

You didn’t stop there. 

You took the coffee out of his hand, removed the lid and poured the scalding liquid all over the crushed pile of flowers.

Spencer’s face fell.

“Oh come on, that was two hundred dollars worth of flowers.” He groaned, shoulders slumping. 

“You think coffee and flowers are going to make up for what you did?” You spat at him. 

“Not entirely. But I thought it might be a start.” He shrugged meekly, toying with his satchel. 

“Well it isn’t.” You stomped on the flowers again. “You were a world class asshole, Spencer. You do not get to show up at my apartment drunk in the middle of night and try to force me into bed! And the things you said to me…I am not a fling. I am not looking to be a casual hook up and if that’s all you want then you should find someone else.” 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to-“

“Go to hell, Doctor Reid.” You cut him off, stamping on the flowers one more time for good measure. “Respectfully, go to hell.” 

He watched you storm past him inside the building, knowing nothing he could say was going to make this better. 

He’d really fucked this one up. And he had no idea how to fix it.

***

He left a cinnamon latte for you every single day for the next week in Monroe’s classroom. 

He left post it notes on your car that told you how sorry he was. 

He tried at every available opportunity to tell you to your face how sorry he was but every time you caught a glimpse of him, you would turn and walk in the opposite direction. 

He didn’t blame you. But he wished you would give him a chance to explain. 

Not that there was much to explain. He was drunk and he’d been forceful. He’d said horrible things to you. 

An explanation wasn’t really warranted. 

But that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He wasn’t giving you up without a fight. 

It didn’t matter that the two of you had only been on one date, you were all he could think about. You’d left a lasting impression in his heart and he wasn’t letting you just walk away. 

But he knew he couldn’t keep pushing you. You had to want to talk to him. If he kept trying to force you forgive him, he would end up pushing you away. 

He had to give it time and hope that you would come to forgive him on your own. 

In lieu of making things up with you, he had made up with Luke, even if slightly begrudgingly. 

They’d talked on the phone for the best part of a whole evening after the girls were asleep. Luke apologised for the way things had come out. He hadn’t meant them quite as they sounded 

Spencer in turn apologised for reacting the way he had, even though he still felt he was completely justified. 

Luke surprised him somewhat when he asked him, “did you ever really deal with Maeve’s affair?” 

“What do you mean?” Spencer frowned, putting his feet up on his desk and leaning back in his chair. 

“When you talk about it, you always talk about the effect it had on your kids but never how it affected you.” Luke was in full on profiler mode. Spencer had heard that voice countless times. 

“The fact that it affected my kids, affected me.” Spencer’s frown deepened. 

“I know you say it was a marriage of convenience but you were together a long time, Reid. You must have had some kind of feelings for her. It must have hurt.” Luke’s tone was soft yet held a hind of accusation. 

“Not especially.” Spencer shrugged. 

“Spencer,” Luke’s timbre shifted. “The woman you spent a large portion of your life with cheated on you. Your house is still like a goddamn shrine to the life you used to have. And you’ve never gotten over your anger towards her. I think that’s because she hurt you more than you want to admit. You like to pretend you didn’t love her and that you’re unaffected by what happened because you think it’s easier to deal with if you pretend it doesn’t hurt. But sometimes, pain needs to be felt.” 

“Have you ever thought about being a therapist?” Spencer rolled his eyes and sat up in the chair. “I’m fine Luke. I’m angry because she tore my family apart. I’m angry because my kids now only get to see their mother twice a month. I’m angry because I had to reevaluate my whole life after she left. 

But I’m not hurt, I’m not heartbroken. And my house is not a shrine. I work and when I’m not working I’m taking care of my daughters and now some stupid dog too. I’ve been meaning to call Morgan to help me renovate it. I just haven’t had time.” 

“If you insist.” Luke sighed. “I won’t keep pushing it. But just know I’m here if you ever need to talk.” 

“I know. Thanks. But I really am fine.” Spencer stood up and stretched his back. “I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah no worries. Talk soon.” Luke replied and then hung up. 

Spencer kept his phone in his hand and typed out a quick text to you, almost identical to the ones he’d sent you every night this week. 

📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I’m still so sorry. I miss you. Please talk to me. Goodnight, beautiful. 

He checked in on the girls who were both sleeping soundly before having a quick shower and crawling into his own bed. 

And once again, he dreamt of you. 

***

It was probably for the best that you weren’t talking to him and that he hadn’t made plans with you for his child free weekend because he didn’t get a child free weekend. 

He picked Lily and Daisy up from school on Friday and drove them to Maeve’s only for Daisy to refuse to get out of the car. 

“Pumpkin, it’s your weekend with your mom, you have to go.” Spencer turned in his seat to face her. 

“No.” She spoke stubbornly. “I don’t want to see her.”

“You can’t stay mad at her forever.” Spencer leaned over the centre console and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Yes I can.” She huffed. 

“Why don’t you want to see mommy?” Lily spoke up from the backseat. 

“Because I hate her.” Daisy stomped her foot on the floor. 

“Daisy, please don’t say that in front of your sister.” 

“Why? It’s true.” 

Spencer sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“What about if Taco comes to mommy’s with you?” It would be doing him a favour too. 

“Yes! Let’s go get Taco!” Lily beamed. 

“No!” Daisy raised her voice. “I’m not going in there and you can’t make me!” 

She was right, he couldn’t. 

So in the end Lily had stayed at Maeve’s and Daisy had come home with Spencer. 

It was strange just having one of the girls, it wasn’t often the two were apart. It was almost like the days before Lily was born. 

He cooked dinner for the two of them and they ate ice cream for dessert. 

Daisy sat in Spencer’s office with him, laying on the floor with Taco while he graded papers. 

Usually Spencer liked to work alone, the kids rarely came in his office. But he found the sounds of Daisy cooing over the dog relaxing and every now and again when he heard her giggle over the mutt it made his heart swell in his chest. 

“Are you having fun there, pumpkin?” He asked her with an amused smile as he scrawled some notes on one of his students papers.

“Yeah, Taco is the best.” She giggled, giving Taco a belly scratch which he adored. “And it’s nice and quiet, like before Lily was born.” 

Spencer’s pen dropped from his hand as he looked at the back of his daughter's head where she laid on her front on the floor, her thick dark hair tied up on the back of her head. 

“What?” He frowned a little, thinking he must have misunderstood her. 

She rolled over onto her back and propped herself up on her one good arm. 

“I miss it sometimes. Before Lily was born and it was just you, me and mom. Did mom have an affair because of Lily?” She asked curiously. 

Spencer tried to hide his shock, knowing his daughter could read his features. 

He pushed himself up from his chair and rounded the desk, coming over to where Daisy and Taco laid. 

He lowered himself carefully to the floor, grimacing a little as an ache spread through the old injury in his leg. 

He sat next to her, stretching his legs out across the dark carpet. 

“What your mom did was neither of your faults. You know that, don’t you?” 

Daisy shrugged. 

“Why did you have Lily? I miss being an only child.” She changed the subject. 

“She’s your sister, don’t say that, please.” 

“We were happy before Lily.” Daisy shrugged again, crossing her legs and pulling Taco into her lap. 

“And we were happy after Lily too.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she instinctively leaned into her fathers body. 

“Do you think mom would have cheated on you if you didn’t have Lily?” 

“I don’t know, pumpkin.” He sighed, pulling her closer. “But Lily isn’t the reason she cheated. And neither are you. I guess…I guess I just couldn’t make her happy.” 

“It’s not that I don’t love Lily.” Daisy tugged at Taco’s ear. “I just miss having all of your love.” 

Spencer felt his heart tear in half. He moved his hand from around her shoulder and cupped her jaw gently, guiding her to look at him. 

“Daisy,” he spoke seriously. “Just because I love your sister, it didn’t for a second make me love you any less, ok? You’re my baby girl, the first time I held you in my arms I felt like I could breathe properly for the first time in my life. The first time you looked at me, I finally knew the reason I was put on this Earth. And that was to love you and be your father. Please never think I could love you any less. You are my whole world ok, pumpkin?”

He felt choked up by the end of his speech and he noticed Daisy had tears in her eyes. 

She was quick to sit back and wipe her eyes on her sleeve. 

“God, mushy much dad?” She scoffed and Spencer chucked. 

He leaned in and placed another kiss at her temple. 

“Love you too, pumpkin.” He laughed against her skin. 

***

Spencer found Luke’s words were taking up too much space in his brain. 

When he awoke Saturday morning he laid in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and just enjoying a moment of peace before Daisy woke up. 

Although it wasn’t all that peaceful.

He was ruminating on Luke’s implications of him living in a shrine. 

It wasn’t as though Spencer meant to do that. He really hadn’t had the time to even think about redecorating. 

Ok, maybe that wasn’t true. He had thought about it, quite often in fact. But there was always some kind of blocker between the thought and the action. For whatever reason, he’d never gotten over that hurdle of actually making a change. 

But it wasn’t because he was clinging to his old life. He didn’t pine over his broken marriage, he didn’t wish for Maeve to see sense and come home. 

But maybe there was a small chance that the reason he’d held off for so long was partly due to the fact that once he changed the house, there was no going back. 

If he decorated it was effectively shattering his dreams of the future he’d planned even though, really, those dreams had been destroyed over a year ago. 

Had he really been grasping at his old life so hard and not even realised? 

Something had to change. 

After breakfast he and Daisy went to the hardware store and he let her pick out a new paint for the living room. 

It wasn’t much but it was a start. It was something to prove he wasn’t living in a shrine to his ex-wife. 

Initially she’d chosen a gawdy bright green shade but thankfully Spencer had talked her down to a much more eye pleasing sage.  

The two of them spent the day painting the room, well Spencer did most of it while Daisy kept getting distracted by Taco. And Daisy did only have one good arm, which she kept reminding him. 

But by the time he was finished he felt accomplished. The new colour was much more his style than the buttermilk yellow Maeve had painted the walls when they moved in. 

The only room he’d really aided in decorating was his office with its dark walls, leather desk chair and dark oak desk and bookshelves. 

He’d still be working at the BAU when they moved in and as such wasn’t around much to help make decorating decisions. 

He’d never disliked the way she’d designed the house but maybe it never quite felt like home as it should have. 

The sage green walls felt more cosy. It was reminiscent of his old apartment, the apartment he’d loved so much. He felt comfortable with a darker aesthetic, which was probably strange but to Spencer it felt more homely. 

Spencer always felt more at ease in darkness, he decided not to dwell too long on that thought and what that meant about his mental state. 

He should call Morgan and have him gut this place and start again from scratch. But he wasn’t quite ready to take that step. And not because he was pining over his old life. 

He didn’t know why. But not everything needed to have a reason. 

Once the painting was done and feeling much more satisfied with his living situation, he cooked dinner for the two of them and after he let Daisy choose a movie which he fell asleep halfway through. 

The closing credits woke him and he rubbed his eyes before focusing on Daisy who had her smartphone pointing at him. 

“What are you doing?” He grumbled, feeling the weight of the dog was laying on his chest. 

“Taking pictures.” She giggled. 

“Why?” He shuffled up the couch a little. 

“You look funny.” She snapped one more picture before her dad got mad. 

“How do I look funny?” He scooted the dog off of him and sat up properly, rubbing his eyes again. 

“See for yourself.” She handed him her phone and he stared at the photograph of his sleeping form, mangy dog sleeping soundly on him. 

But that’s not what he was looking at. 

“For the love of god!” He groaned, jumping up and dashing to the mirror by the door. 

“The paint must still have been wet.” Daisy giggled again. 

Spencer had two very distinctive sage coloured doggy paw prints on his face and many more covering his shirt. 

He glanced around and saw a spot on the wall near the TV where the idiotic mutt had put his front paws in the wet paint. 

There was a trail of the sage prints in the carpet from the wall to the couch. 

“This is why I didn’t want a freaking dog.” Spencer huffed as he made his way to the kitchen to clean his face. “What time is it?” 

“Uh…eight?” Daisy sounded unsure of herself. 

“Which means it’s actually later than that and you don’t want to tell me because you don’t want to go to bed.” He chuckled, wiping his face with some kitchen paper. 

“No.” Daisy whined. “Not true.” 

“You know I’m wearing a watch, right?” As he said this he glanced at it and saw it was a little after ten. “Bedtime missy.” 

“Boo!” Daisy sulked. 

He finished up cleaning his face, thankful the paint seemed to come off easily and came back through to the living room where his stubborn daughter sat vigil on the couch. 

“Come on, pumpkin. I can read to you if you like? We haven’t done that in a while.” 

She pulled a face like she was contemplating this for a moment or two. 

“Can Taco come to bed with me?” 

“Sure, why not. It’s not like I’ve brought him two dog beds or anything.” He sighed. 

Daisy happily picked up the little dog and carried him upstairs where she set him on her bed. 

Spencer sat with him while she went through to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. 

He tucked her in and Taco curled up by her side. 

Spencer slotted himself on the small part of the empty mattress that was left and Daisy handed him a book. 

He read to her until she was sound asleep, snoring a little. She got that from her mother. 

He kissed her forehead and switched off the light before creeping from the room. 

He thought about having a drink but he was still ashamed of his actions the last time he drank so he decided against it. 

He pulled out his phone as he flopped to the couch and sent you a text. 

📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I really am so sorry. Please can we talk? I miss your voice. Goodnight, beautiful. 

Spencer stared at the freshly painted wall and the paw prints left in it, still having Luke’s words swirling around his brain. 

He didn’t love Maeve. He wasn’t heartbroken over her infidelity. He didn’t need to deal with what she’d done because he hadn’t affected him. Had it? 

Somehow he found himself on his feet and moving books aside on the bookshelf that shielded his gun safe. 

He hadn’t actually kept a gun in it for years, not since he left the bureau. But old habits die hard. 

He entered the combination and opened the thick metal door. His hand shook a little as he pulled out the photo album kept hidden inside. 

It was white once but was dirtied from fingerprints over the years. It was a little scuffed around the edges but that was probably from him stuffing it inside the safe that was just a little too small for it. 

Spencer didn’t know why he kept in there. He supposed it was because he didn’t want the kids stumbling across it and having to look at it before he was ready, before he had the capacity to take this particular trip down memory lane. 

He hadn’t even thought about the album in the year since he’d put it in there. He’d physically locked it away whilst mentally locking away the memories that went with the photographs. 

He took it back over to the couch and tentatively flipped to the first page. 

The first photograph depicted an unusually sunny fall day outside of DC city hall. Spencer wore a suit from his closet and Maeve wore a simple white summer dress, her pregnant belly very noticeable with the slim fitting nature of the dress. 

They both smiled brightly while Morgan snapped the photograph of them showing off their matching gold wedding bands, Spencer’s free hand cupping her stomach that housed baby Daisy. 

He saw no doubts in his eyes, no hint that he was only marrying this woman because he’d gotten her pregnant. He looked genuinely elated to be married. He didn’t remember ever feeling that happy. 

On the next page was a series of photos with the backdrop of a hospital room. 

Images of Spencer fussing over Maeve while she was in labour, a slightly fretful look on his features. 

There was a photo of Maeve with the newborn on her chest, seconds after she was born and Daisy was held by her mother for the first time. 

Another of Spencer in the worn leather chair next to the bed with the tiny seven pound baby cradled in his arms as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

There were a couple more of the three of them together in the hospital room and as they left the hospital the following day, Spencer and Maeve held hands while his free one carried Daisy in her rocker. 

The look on Spencer’s face in each one could only be described as pure bliss. 

There were pictures of Daisy with each member of her new family, with her Aunties Emily, JJ and Penelope and her Uncles Derek and Aaron and grandpa Dave. 

There were photographs from a few weeks later when they’d travelled to Vegas so Diana could meet her granddaughter. 

Diana’s smile when she held Daisy for the first time was the brightest he’d ever seen on his mother. She’d been lucid that day, thank god, and had cried and cooed over the gorgeous little bundle her son had created. 

Other photographs of Daisy’s first steps, her first time on the potty, her first Christmas and birthdays littered the pages. 

Birthday cakes and presents wrapped for a child too young to understand what they were. 

Gaudy Christmas jumpers set against the backdrop of an overly decorated tree. Paper hats from crackers adorned on heads. A small child overstimulated by a holiday she couldn’t comprehend. 

And in every single one he and Maeve looked so happy. The images showed them sharing loving looks, exchanging soft touches. 

If the photos didn’t exist, Spencer wouldn’t have believed it. His memories didn’t allow him to recall the joyful moments, only the hurt and the anger. 

Even as he looked at them he struggled to remember ever feeling the way the man in the photographs looked. 

The further into the album he got showed Maeve’s belly growing for the second time and more hospital photographs with Lily featuring Aunty Tara, and Uncles Luke and Matt. 

More holiday photos lined the pages, this time with Daisy helping her sister open her presents. 

Lots of photos of the two girls together riddled the pages. Daisy holding Lily’s hand while she learnt to walk, Daisy reading to her little sister. Daisy cuddling her new little sister and beaming proudly. 

They looked like the perfect family, smiling for the camera. But what was hiding beneath? Were they ever really happy at all? 

About a year after Lily’s birth, the photographs just stopped. The empty pages at the end of the album taunted Spencer. 

They just stopped. Ended with no warning. It was as though all the happy, smiling faces of the pages before had died. 

Maybe they had. 

Tensions had been high between him and Maeve after Spencer gave up the BAU. He resented Maeve and to a certain extent his beautiful daughter, for having to give up a job he adored. 

He was frustrated and exhausted all the time. He was making less money at Georgetown, which didn’t matter so much in the present as he had a substantial amount of savings, but not enough to send two kids to college. His future problems crossed over into his present day. 

It took its toll on Spencer. He went to work, came home and doted on his daughters and barely said two words to Maeve. 

He had a quick temper. His exhaustion manifested in anger and when he did talk to Maeve it was usually to argue with her about something. 

He’d been distant, far away even when he was at home, and she’d been lonely. So she met Bobby who made her feel wanted. 

Could he blame her for that? Was Luke right? He hadn’t been attentive to his wife and so she’d sought comfort elsewhere. Was it his fault she’d strayed? Had he pushed her to it? 

He flipped the album back to the first page to their wedding photo. Was he to blame in all of this? 

He was so wrapped up in his self pity, the knock at the door startled him. 

He frowned to himself as he pushed himself to his feet and padded over to the door. 

Who was knocking at his house so late at night? 

He unlocked the door and cautiously it opened a fraction so he could see who was on the other side before he committed to opening it. 

His frown only deepened when he looked into a familiar pair of eyes staring back at him from the dark. 

He opened the door fully and braced himself against the door jamb. 

“Y/N,” he swallowed. “What are you doing here?” 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @its-yagirl-raelynn

[secret-gallavich]

Shameless Whumptober Masterlist

just a list of all the shameless whump fics i wrote in october

Safety Net

tw suicidal thoughts

Mickey has always been there for Ian, even when he's in Mexico and Ian wants to jump off a bridge.

Solitary Confinement

tw mistreatment of mental illness

Ian’s meds were bound to get out of whack at some point in their prison stay.

Made To Watch

tw implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse

Ian and Mickey go to a couple’s therapist once a month.

Outnumbered

tw implied/referenced rape/non-con , implied/referenced underage sex , child abuse

Laura Milkovich is 19 years old when she gives birth to her third baby, Mikhailo. It’s the 10th of August in 1994, her husband is in jail and she’s a mother once again

You Said You'd Never Leave

tw suicidal thoughts

Ian comes home from the hospital and Mickey isn't there.

Insomnia

Mickey thought he was just having trouble adjusting to the new surroundings of living in the Westside. He’s not used to the quietness, he’s feeling homesick or the moon is too fucking bright.

Infection

Mickey’s never felt…normal when it comes to Ian. Ian makes him weird and do things he’d never normally do. Like get a tattoo of his name on his chest in prison.

Makeshift Bandages

Mickey hides an injury from Ian while working at the Kash 'N' Grab

Leave Me Alone

tw horror, mistreatment of mental illness, murder, dead dove: do not eat, paranormal, major character death

Ian's convinced something is haunting their apartment. Mickey realises he's telling the truth when it's too late.

Drugging

tw drugged, date rape drug

Mickey’s started going to the club with Ian just to make sure no one takes advantage of him. He lets Ian do his thing, give out lapdances, sweet talk them for some extra cash but he’s always stepping in when they go too far.

Floral Bouquet

tw major character death

Ian passes by a flower shop every day on his morning runs but can't bring himself to go inside.

You Will Regret Touching Them

tw implied/referenced child abuse

S03E06 but it goes differently.

Mickey feels like he’s going to throw up at any second.

He’s got a boy spending the night with him. Not just any boy, Ian. Ian is staying the night and he’s trying to play it casual but he can’t stop glancing over at the red head just to make sure he’s really there.

Don't Move

Mickey is allergic to bees and fucking hates spring

Who's There?

tw thriller, horror

Mickey is home alone and starts hearing noises outside the house.

Storm

tw implied/referenced rape, child abuse, internalised homophobia

Mickey's feeling post S03E06.

The hooker is still here, looking just as scared as he is and putting her purple dress back on under Terry’s watchful eyes. He throws her a bag of coke and she fumbles to catch it. Terry won’t stop glaring at her and Mickey takes it as his chance to look at Ian’s empty spot. He’d taken his clothes, wasn’t sure if Ian was allowed to get changed here or if he left in his boxers.

You Look Awful

tw gay bashing, hatecrime

Ian laughs next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close and Mickey laughs back and turns his body into Ian’s. Adrenaline is running through his body and he feels so fucking good right now, it’s the best high he’s ever had.

Mickey's feelings post coming out

Bloody Knife

Ian wasn’t expecting their little trip back to the Southside to end up like this.

‘This’ being the emergency room because Mickey somehow got himself stabbed.

Borrowed Clothes

tw suicidal thoughts, psych ward

The first 24 hours are the hardest.

It’s full of regret on his own behalf, self-loathing and running thoughts of ‘what if’. What if he had been paying more attention, what if he wasn’t so focused on work, what if Mickey had been a good husband?

Body Modifications

tw implied/referenced child abuse

Mickey's always had a love hate relationship with his knuckle tattoos

[lamija-v]

Hi! I just wanted to ask you what kind of elucien fics are your favourite and do you by any chance have a favorite trope for them??

PS I love your art so much ❤️❤️❤️

oh my god THANK YOU ><

It makes me extremely happy knowing you love my art, even if I am inactive recently :) unfortunately a little bit busy right now

Personally, I prefer the mix of fluff and angst in Elucien fics (as in, angsty background followed by fluff :)) painful pining&huet/comfort are my favourite things in them

I haven’t been reading plenty of fics lately, but I do love anything by @\separatist-apologist and @\the-lonelybarricade . They do carry this fandom LOL. I adore flamesandshadows on ao3 too! (I don’t know if they have a tumblr url sorry </3)

I do have to say the most memorable fic in my elucien past is A Bouquet Full of Loathing by @lucienarcheron – it’s the first elucien fic I’ve read EVER and it absolutely converted me to this side of fandom. You can check rest of Gigi’s works along with @tuzna-pesma-snova (my dear mutual has absolutely lovely work!)

(not elucien related but currently obsessed with all works by @thevanserrras, I love me a good x reader ><)

[moononastring]

Bouquet Full of Loathing is still my FAVORITE fic of yours✨️💐

Ugh, my OG elucien fic! Thank you for still loving it!! ♥️♥️♥️

followers' favorite story of mine

[smells-like-mettaton]

Perhaps #5 (Hold my Hand) with Papyton for the fic ask game if you are still doing it?

(I hope you're okay with me writing this as a sequel to one of my other papyton fics! This could still be read on its own, but it will make more sense if you read the first chapter. If you don't want to, just know that the part in italics at the beginning is from a fanfic that Alphys wrote.)

The Greatest Fanfiction of All: The Sequel

Rating: T Word Count: 1687 Read on AO3: here

---

Papyrus’s hands are warm. Of course they are. Theyre always covered in gloves. Not even Mettaton, his boyfriend of one month and thirteen days, knows what his bony phalanges look like beneath the plush red fabric.

But tonight, that's going to change.

xxx

Exactly one month and thirteen days had passed since Mettaton had read the beginning of Alphys’s “papyton” fanfiction. It also happened to be one month and thirteen days since Papyrus had agreed to be his boyfriend, sending him on a magical journey of love and romance.

That journey had given him plenty of new perspectives and discoveries. Yet the mystery of what lie under Papryus’s gloves was not one of them.

He sat next to Mettaton on their usual bench at the center of the hedge maze. The sky was dark with stormclouds, which kept any stray spectators away from the park. Papyrus was prepared, as usual; a tall MTT-Brand Umbrella leaned against his femur. Nothing and no one would ruin this moment.

Now Mettaton just needed to have the moment. Preferably without resorting to calling Alphys and Frisk again.

“METTATON? IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?” Papyrus asked, his browbone furrowing in concern.

Mettaton’s fingers were already laced through his; Mettaton rubbed his thumb against the back of Papyrus’s glove.

“Well. It is a very special day, darling.” Special enough that Mettaton had worn the outfit Papyrus loved most—a cropped shirt that said COOL ROBOT and galaxy-print leggings that hugged his metallic thighs. Papyrus himself had worn a bright Tetris shirt and shorts that exposed his gleaming femurs.

“IT IS?” Papyrus blinked. “IS THERE A SALE ON RIGATONI? BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT STARTED NEXT WEEK.”

“Hm? Oh—not that I know of, but I will keep that in mind.” He imagined creating a pasta bouquet for Papyrus, and a smile graced his lips. “Today is the one month and thirteen day anniversary of our glamorous romance.”

“WOWIE! TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE DATING A HOT ROBOT!” Papyrus grinned, pressing his teeth to Mettaton’s cheek in a close approximation of a kiss. “HAPPY ONE MONTH AND THIRTEEN DAYS, METTATON! IS THERE A SPECIAL WAY YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE?”

It was perfect. Mettaton couldn’t have set it up better if he tried.

“Actually…” He turned Papyrus’s hand over, examining every seam and stitch in his crimson glove. “I was hoping to see your hands. I know they’re just as handsome as the rest of you.”

He winked, and a light blush spread across Papyrus’s cheekbones.

“MY HANDS? I’D GLOVE TO! BUT, ERM…” His fingers disentangled from Mettatons, instead fidgeting nervously with the hem of his right glove. “I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU WOULD FIND THEM AS UNBEARABLY ATTRACTIVE AS THE REST OF ME.”

Coming from Papyrus, that was practically a statement of self-loathing. Guilt bubbled in Mettaton’s soul-tank.

“Beautiful.” He grasped the top of his boyfriend’s arms and squeezed them gently. “There is not a bone in your body that I would not find attractive. Of course, I will not ask you to perform if you are suffering stage fright, but I do think you shine so much brighter in the light.”

Papyrus smiled a little, though his browbone was still turned upward with worry.

"IF YOU'RE SURE…"

"Positive as my ratings, darling."

Papyrus nodded slowly. "I TRUST YOU, METTATON."

Those words were like ambrosia to Mettaton's soul. He would do anything to remain worthy of his boyfriend's trust.

"PLEASE, JUST… DON'T BE FRIGHTENED, ALRIGHT?"

Mettaton couldn't imagine anything about Papyrus being frightening.

Then, with agonizing care, Papyrus peeled off his gloves. And Mettaton understood.

The bones of his hands were scorched an ashen gray, nearly black. Hairline cracks laced through them like spiderwebs. Mettaton was half afraid that if he touched them, they would crumble to dust.

"I'M FINE, REALLY!" Papyrus must have noticed the look on his face, no matter how quickly Mettaton had schooled his expression. "THESE BURNS ARE SO OLD, I BARELY NOTICE THEY'RE THERE!"

His grin was strained. Mettaton wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze his hand, but he didn't dare.

"They don't hurt?" Mettaton asked, then winced. He could've phrased that more tactfully. It was probably better than asking how on earth the injury had happened, at least.

"WELL… THEY ARE A BIT SENSITIVE WITHOUT MY GLOVES. THEY HAVE HEALING MAGIC, YOU SEE." Papyrus held out one of his red gloves, his expression turning to one of pride. "SANS DID THE SEWING, AND I DID THE ENCHANTMENT."

"No wonder you love them so much." Mettaton smiled. It was adorable how much Papyrus loved his brother. Their love had inspired Mettaton to finally patch up his relationship with Blooky and Mew Mew.

Papyrus smiled back, running a charred fingertip fondly over the fabric. "WOULD YOU… LIKE TO TRY ONE ON?"

"Me?" Mettaton blinked.

"OF COURSE! WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO EXPERIENCE THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S LEGENDARY HEALING MAGIC FIRSTHAND?"

Mettaton chuckled at the pun. "How could I possibly refuse?"

He slipped off his white gloves, revealing the unsightly bolts in his own fingers. He hardly felt self-conscious about that after seeing Papyrus's hands, though.

Papyrus's glove fit like a dream. Like holding his hand, only from the inside. Warmth seeped from the fabric into his metal joints, slipping through his cracks like sweet oil.

"This is… quite the enchantment," he breathed.

Papyrus couldn’t be in pain with that much healing magic caressing his bones. But on the other hand, even the constant healing magic had failed to permanently erase the scars. Mettaton still wasn’t too familiar with physical injuries, but surely that wasn’t normal, right?

Papyrus’s wink sounded like magical glitter."WHAT CAN I SAY? I'M VERY ENCHANTING."

He looked just as bright as ever. Just as energetic, as full of life.

Just as beautiful, inside and out.

"That you are, darling." Mettaton kissed his cheek.

Papyrus pulled his left glove back onto his hand, then twined his fingers with Mettaton's. Red on red, warmth on warmth Their hands matched perfectly.

"YOU PROBABLY HAVE SOME QUESTIONS," Papyrus said quietly.

Mettaton's eye flickered to Papyrus's bare right hand before returning to his eyesockets.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't feel comfortable with, darling."

Mettaton was curious of course. If this injury had been caused by another monster, they would face the wrath of a true killer robot. Knowing Papyrus, though, he had probably forgiven whoever was responsible.

"I ALWAYS FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH YOU." He smiled. "AND IT IS… NICE. TO HAVE SOMEONE BESIDES SANS KNOW THIS."

"No one else knows?" Mettaton’s eyes widened. He'd thought Undyne would have found out, whether Papyrus told her on purpose or she burned off his gloves during one of their cooking lessons.

"I AM A SKELETON OF MANY SECRETS." Papyrus winked again. This time it sounded like tinkling bells. "IT HELPS THAT NO ONE ELSE REMEMBERS THE ACCIDENT, THOUGH."

An accident. No one had hurt Papyrus on purpose.

Mettaton sighed in relief, powering down his killer robot protocols.

"I WAS HELPING MY DAD WITH HIS WORK ON THE CORE. I ALWAYS CALIBRATED THE PUZZLES WHILE HE CALIBRATED THE GEOTHERMAL POWER LEVELS."

Papyrus looked down at their tangled hands, his expression distant.

"I STILL DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. ON THE DAYS SANS REMEMBERS, HE PROMISES THAT IT WASN'T MY FAULT. THAT DAD WAS TOO CARELESS. BUT THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION, AND DAD, HE… HE FELL…"

Something in Mettaton crushed as Papyrus's voice cracked.

"I WAS LUCKIER. THE BLAST ONLY GOT MY HANDS." The smile returned.

"Papyrus…"

Mettaton didn't know what to say. What could he say? Ghosts didn't have parents. His cousins were his family, but he couldn't imagine them dying, either. Blooky physically couldn't.

But this wasn't about him! It was about Papyrus, who had lost his father and scarred his hands and still counted himself lucky.

"DON'T BE SAD, METTATON. IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO. LONGER THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE."

Papyrus looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Mettaton saw something old. Mettaton had been alive—albeit as a ghost—for nearly two centuries. Right now, though, Mettaton wondered if Papyrus was even older than that.

"I suppose so,” he reluctantly admitted. “I don't even remember an explosion at the CORE."

"OH, THAT'S NORMAL. APPARENTLY DAD WAS RATHER FORGETTABLE." His smile was sad. "EVEN SANS DOESN'T ALWAYS REMEMBER HIM. BUT I… WELL."

He closed his blackened fist.

"IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT TO FORGET."

Mettaton opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Papyrus was looking for a response.

“WHEW! ALL THIS HONESTY IS EXHAUSTING!!” Sweat beaded on his skull. “DO YOU WANT TO GO GET NICE CREAMS?”

“Of course, darling, but—are you sure that you’re okay?” Mettaton couldn’t help the concern in his voice. It wasn’t every day that he unlocked his boyfriend’s tragic backstory.

And here he’d been so concerned about something as trivial as holding hands. He truly was as selfish as everyone believed.

“PLEASE, DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME,” Papyrus said firmly. His hand gave Mettaton’s a tight squeeze. “I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID IT WAS LONG AGO. PRACTICALLY A DIFFERENT LIFETIME. I ONLY TOLD YOU SO THAT YOU WOULD KNOW HOW MUCH I TRUST YOU.”

Trust. Mettaton trusted Papyrus, too. Trusted that he didn’t need Mettaton to coddle him. Trusted that if he wanted Mettaton’s help, he would ask for it.

“I… thank you, darling.” Ghostly tears welled in his eyes. “Your trust means everything to me.”

“WELL THEN!” Papyrus’s grin turned mischievous. “I TRUST YOU TO KISS ME UNTIL I CAN’T BREATHE!”

Mettaton’s fans whirred and whirred. The sound was quickly drowned out by the raindrops that began to fall and fizzle on his shoulder pads.

“Darling, you’re a skeleton. You don’t have lungs.”

“NEITHER DO YOU.” Papyrus twirled the umbrella before popping it open, protecting Mettaton from the threat of short-circuiting.

(From the rain, at least.)

“You truly know how to give me a challenge, darling.” Mettaton cuddled closer, reaching up to brush his red-gloved hand against Papyrus’s cheekbone.

“ONLY BECAUSE I KNOW YOU’LL RISE TO IT!”

Mettaton grinned back, and that was exactly what he did.

[domesticblisss]

I Must Be Stupid

El Phantasmo x Female Reader Requested Prompts: can we get a fluff and angst with elp, maybe a hint of jealousy, can reader also be a wrestler pls 🙏🏽, maybe you work for a company that’s far away from elp and you’re in a story line that with a wrestler (any promotion and wrestler) and he gets jealous, and you guys argue next time you guys see each other, i hope that makes sense! Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1545 Warnings: Fluff, angst and well, jealousy. Summary: ELP isn't a fan of your storyline with LA Knight. A/N: Y'all really wanna see this lanky fuck being jealous, huh. First time writing Phanta, hope I did him justice. Also, this is the song I mention in the fic.

Riley and I met years ago, when we were both starving upcoming wrestlers on the indies.

I remember the day we met perfectly. I sat backstage on Defiant’s first ever episode of Loaded, talking to Walter, one of my best friends and trainer, when he arrived. Loud and obnoxious, the first thing he said to me was “Wanna be my baby momma?”

Of course it left me fuming, leaving poor Walter with the job of calming me down. The highlight of that night was seeing him getting his ass handed to him by Ridgeway and Walter.

God, how I loathed him.

Our paths crossed several times after that, all over the world. He apologised to me on our second encounter, mentioning how he gets weird around new people, how he loses his filter when he’s nervous, and how he was not so happy about getting chopped by Walter. We shook it off and started anew.

Turns out he was the coolest guy ever. Funny, quick witted and yeah, still very much annoying, but also very respectful and did everything to make me feel comfortable. Our friendship grew, we would share hotel rooms and ride together if we got booked on the same promotions, share meals and even train.

ELP asked me out after his deathmatch with Schadenfreude against Team Fight Club PRO. It was a sight I would never forget: a beaten, blood soaked and with thumbtacks stuck everywhere Riley stood before me, right after the gorilla’s entrance, with a dead look on his eyes and said “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” to which I could only nod, and got a “not today though. Today I’m a little… meh.” back.

He was so out of it that I had to grab him from his dressing room so we could head back to the hotel. The drive was made in silence, except from the occasional wince from him and a mumbled “I’m sorry” from me.

We ordered room service and shared a bed that night (since the hotel booked it wrongly), he said he meant the “date thing” as he hugged me while we watched some old rerun of Geordie Shore.

To me, that was our first date. He refuses to accept it, and says it happened a few days later, when he took me out for a picnic and a ride on the London Eye. Either way, both days were incredible in their own way.

See, everyday with him is incredible. Riley is attentive, we communicate well and he’s, surprisingly, an empath. We never fight, and when something bothers us, we sit down and talk it out.

So when I told him that I got an NXT contract, it was a week full of celebrations.

I was terrified of how it would go, with the fact that we would barely see each other and how we would handle it.

He reassured me daily that things would stay the same, that we had the means to talk daily and that we would visit each other whenever we had the time.

And it did stay the same. We had daily FaceTime calls, sometimes more than one, he would come over when he was in the US, I went to Canada when I had some free time and so on. Things got a little harder after he got in on the Bullet Club, the time zone was a little tricky, but nothing that bothered us.

Both of our careers have been going amazing. ELP is now a junior tag team champion, I’m in a storyline with LA Knight where I’m his manager, and I still get to wrestle (I’m the #1 contender for the NXT Women’s Championship, by the way!).

LA is the best co-worker I could ask for. He’s an incredible wrestler and an even better talker, which makes my job so much easier. Our on screen relationship is rather… ambiguous, we like to play around, leaving it open to the public to decide if it’s strictly business or if there’s something more.

Of course, it is all a play, as the both of us are in loving relationships.

As of right now, I’m on an early flight back to Canada. Last night I got involved in LA’s match against Thatcher, which earned me a sprained wrist and a broken nose for him. Hunter took pity on us, and knowing our work ethic, he gave us a week off, just to let us cool down. And since Riley just got home from Japan, I decided to surprise him.

I knock on his door with his favourite Tim Horton’s order in hand.

Riley opens it and says “Hey.”

Hey. Just hey. He usually tackles me down and takes me straight to the bedroom.

“Surprise?”

He looks at me like he has never had before, with what feels like disappointment in his eyes, and when I tried to kiss him, he turned away and sighed. My lips landed on his cheek.

“Riley, what’s going on?” I asked, worried.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Riley, there’s definitely something going on for you to act all weird with me. Talk to me. Please.”

He sighed again, looking down to his feet. The hold he had on the back of his living room chair was so hard, it turned his knuckles white.

“What is going on between you and Knight?”

My first reaction was to laugh. His face got darker and darker as I laughed.

“Are you serious?” The look he gave me said he was dead serious.

“There is nothing going on between LA and I–“

“I don’t know, you two look so cozy together.” he cut me off. I could feel the sarcasm dripping off his voice.

I should have known something was going on in his mind. Ever since the storyline started, Riley had gotten a little off. He never asked about how work was going anymore, and when I started talking about it, he would change the subject completely.

“I am doing my JOB, P. What the fuck?!”

“You sure look very happy doing it.”

“I don’t know what you are trying to insinuate, but I have nothing with him.”

It was his turn to laugh. He ran his hands on his head, making his unruly hair even messier. I cut him off when he started talking again.

“Do you think I like seeing you with Pieter on your lap all the time? No! But I know that’s your job and I trust you and I trust her! I know you and the guys go out all the time in Japan, should I throw a fit every time? Should I be suspicious of anything?”

”Baby, I’m–“ he tried to hold my hand and I stepped away.

“Do you think that if I had anything with him, I would have hopped on the first flight here to be with you? You know what? This was a mistake, I’m leaving.” I sat the Tim Hortons’ bag on his coffee table and grabbed my suitcase. “It’s your favourite, hope you have a nice breakfast.”

I called an Uber and went straight to the nearest hotel. I spent the whole ride trying to hold my tears, finally letting them fall when I got to my room.

I can’t even begin to understand what happened. We have never fought, Riley was always so understanding, what has gotten to him?

I fell asleep crying.

A few hours later, I woke up with a heavy thud on my bedroom door, and the faint sound of someone singing

“Soy un perdedor, I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?”. I knew that voice anywhere. We would sing that song to each other whenever we fucked up.

When I opened the door, P sat by it on the floor, with a bouquet of all of my favourite flowers.

“I’m so sorry, babe.” he said, looking up at me.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Tama.”

“Of course.” Tama had called me when I was still inside the Uber. He started talking about a bunch of things at the same time, his way of persuading people into spilling things out. “Get inside.” I told Riley as I left the door opened and went further into the room.

I could hear him quickly getting up and closing the door. He hugged me from behind, making me stop in the middle of the corridor. Holding me tightly, he kissed my head and went down to my neck and shoulder, repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry” between kisses.

We stood like that for a couple of minutes, silence eventually falling between us.

I grabbed the hand that held my waist and turned him around.

“Next time, we talk about it like we always did.”

“Okay, yes… yes. Again, I’m sorry. I don’t know what went on in my head.”

“It’s fine, just don’t question my loyalty and my love for you again.

“I won’t, I love you.” he hugged me again, this time resting his forehead on mine.

“Love you too.”

“Sooo, this is a really nice bedroom, huh?” he said, looking around. “The bed looks really comfortable.”

“It really is. Wanna try it?”

“God yes.” he said, grabbing me by my waist and leading me to the bed.

[elucien22904]

hi!! I’m new to the fandom and was wondering if you have any elucien fic recs? Tysm🤍

hi!! ofc, i’ll list some of my favs :) 

@ladyvanserra i love ‘bouquet full of loathing’ n ‘no place i’d rather be’, but she has sooo many others that r amazing

@vanserrasvalkyrie - ‘admire’ n ‘a touch of sugar’ r adorable 

@mayphenix - has the best elucien multi chap i’ve ever read omg i go back to it sm the ao3 link

@helion-ism has one so far (that i know of) but its gorgeous!! link lol

@bookofmirth - ‘vetsa’ n ‘this darkness we know’ r amazing 

@firebirdofscythia - ‘ardor’ just keeps on getting better and better 

@valamerys - ao3 link ‘sharp as glass and twice as bright’ n ‘advantages’ r both the first elucien smut pieces i read n r sooooo good 

n those r all the ones i can think of off the top of my head, so have fun!!! (also welcome!!!, imo elucien is the superior ship, i hope u love them as much as i do ;) )

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

For Good (Emily Prentiss x Reader) Period!AU

Summary: It’s been over half a year since Emily Prentiss last left town. She certainly knows how to make an entrance back into her beloved’s life.

AN: This is an Emily Prentiss Period!AU for @vellichor01​ as part of the @imagining-in-the-margins and @sunlight-moonrise​ fic swap. I hope you like it! Reader is GN but wears a dress.

Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Emily Prentiss. Bit of a wild thing, headstrong, a negative influence. So naturally, she was utter perfection and when Y/N heard that she was back in town, she could not wait to be reunited. It was not until Sunday, five days later, that they would see her in her church best and most becoming in the second pew. Her dark hair were pinned neatly in a bun, intricate and Y/N knew that it would fall out in curls once it was freed. The red of her dress was scandalous against the holier-than-thou congregation. It made Y/N, along with everyone else, wonder why on God’s earth she would be here. But Y/N especially. They knew Emily’s history with the church and the difficulty setting foot in St. Mary’s Church presented for her.

And then Emily looked over her shoulder and caught Y/N with their guilty expression and she smiled. Flawless, the purity of her white teeth to the devilish red lipstick framing them, and a combination of the two in her pink tongue poking out to tease Y/N for their actions. How sinful, and right in the face of Jesus who hung from a cross at the height above her.

They crossed paths again in the aisle after mass. Other congregators parted like the Red Sea to Emily “Moses” Prentiss but she was not a saviour or a prophet of God in their eyes. Y/N joined them in letting her pass, and they caught her gaze once more as it broke from the confident unseeing stare to the oak doors ahead of her. Those eyes creased at the corners, her cheeks lifting though her lips did not smile. They didn’t need to; Y/N knew what she meant. They mirrored her expression for a split second before she was out of their view. They could turn their head to follow her out, but not yet.

Conversations veiling attacks on personal appearance and behaviour as welcoming comments passed over Y/N’s head as they shimmied around the pews. They almost broke into a jog by the time they reached the sun spots glaring off the pavement.  

“Y/N!”

Y/N pivoted to meet Emily in the most amicable and outwardly platonic way possible. That was not however on the cards for Miss Prentiss, who openly embraced Y/N before the remaining churchgoers. Chest to chest, arms in a tight grip, and the scent of freshly cut roses smothered Y/N’s senses. They had to reciprocate, perhaps not with as much joy as they would like, but enough for now.

Emily broke away first and smiled again, a tad restrained for those watching, “I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me for afternoon tea.”

“Of course. When?”

“Now.”

With that, they linked arms and strode off away from prying eyes. Emily’s pace was powered, her jauntiness spreading through to Y/N. Each click of their shoes that took them further away from prying eyes was a delight to hear and they revelled in them.

It took one minute for Y/N to realise that they did not know where Emily was living, or staying, this time. They had instinctively been walking towards her old home that was now occupied by an elderly couple with two Alsatians.

“This way,” Emily flexed her arm to squeeze Y/N’s in the crook of her elbow. Of course, she knew what they were thinking. She always did. She could be one of those carnival psychics if she ever lost that marvellous job of hers.

Y/N lifted the brim of their hat up to see up the road. A path, worn in by travellers’ feet straying from the road, was their new turn. At the end of it, the pair found the stile, its supports and the fence that linked to it married with grass and weeds and wildflowers alike. Emily dropped Y/N’s arm to hike up her skirts and she leapt over the stile. Her feet landed gracefully in the long grass on the other side. Her open palm reached out to Y/N with the same air of elegance.

“You know they call these kissing gates.” Her teeth sparkled in her smile, a teasing tilt of her head catching the sunlight. Truly, she was a temptress. How could Y/N resist her when their hand fit so neatly into hers?

The spare firmly squashed their hat down on their head. Fingers tipped with nibbled nails grasped firmly in case Y/N needed a reminder of the security Emily provided. Lifting their skirts, Y/N let out a laugh as a breeze caught their bare shins stepping over the wooden planks. Another one, louder, when Emily caught their cheek with her lips before they fell at her side.

A hill slid down into the lover’s lake. Ducks’ quacks were carried on the wind, weaving through the grass and sweeping up.

Emily’s eyes still glinted with all their mischief. Suddenly she was dragging Y/N after her in a jog, kicking up their dresses to catch on blades of grass. Her hair fell from its bun. As suspected, it was all curls taking flight behind her, wrapping around each other like a flock of migrating ravens.

Laughs rioting in the air, Y/N’s hat flew away but there was no care for it anymore. Legs carried them faster than they were built.

Bobbing up and down, happy as a duckling, was a row boat by a fishing dock.

“What is this?” Y/N said, smile stuck on their face.

“Your surprise.”

Emily was the one to row the pair out. Her skirts were propped up on her knees to show off her shins. They floated about, along with Y/N’s flyaway hairs like dandelion seeds in the breeze. Glorious sunlight emerged from the last cloud in its path.

Ripples parted the way for the boat, right to the island at the centre. There was always a temptation to go there as a child, but not once had Y/N dared to swim the currents or hire a boat unchaperoned. Now they were glad they hadn’t. Their first and only time onto the island was with Emily. They would never visit without her. Not even if she went away for months again.

Stepping onto the shoreline, out of reach of the waves while Emily dragged the boat away from temptation of drifting. Once satisfied, she took Y/N’s hand again to lead them over to her afternoon tea. She shooed away a magpie from a bush.

“When did you have the time to prepare all of this?”

“I have my ways.”

“Mysterious as the fog.”

Emily flushed at Y/N’s little joke, hiding it in the pink of the gingham picnic blanket she was laying out near the bank. There were reeds, lush, that hid them from prying eyes.

A delightful luncheon was hidden in a wicker basket. There was a new gift: a flask. Initially it had been invented to keep things cold. At least that was what Emily told Y/N as she poured tea into dainty teacups. Between sips, Emily would request an exchange between them: miniature sandwiches or cakes for the toll of a kiss. Thankfully, Y/N was not one for bartering and willingly accepted Emily’s offer. Every. Single. Time.

Roses still hung in the fresh air. Emily wore it as a scent and presented a glorious bouquet for Y/N, all intertwined with ribbons and their petals blooming beautifully. They were clutched to Y/N’s chest as they were fed the last strawberry in the bowl. Chocolate covered. Classic romance.  

The food was filling, far more than Y/N would have liked. Clearly Emily had improved her cooking abilities in her time abroad; they could have gorged on this for days.

Bellies full, lounging together, the sound of the water alongside ducks chattering, there was no need for conversation. Emily’s extravagant actions spoke what she couldn’t quite say: that she was sorry for her absence. Two months extension on her already long sentence away from Y/N. Sentence was a harsh label yet it fit halfway. Emily loved her occupation but Y/N loathed the effects – apart from the little black cat that she’d left to keep them company. It made things a little easier to bear. But they didn’t know how long they could wait for her.

“You can be such a child sometimes.”

Y/N blinked. Then they realised their cheeks were full of the strawberry Emily had offered them, probably minutes ago. They swallowed the fruit that was the same colour as their cheeks.

“You love me,” They said quietly.

With a hum, Emily said, “I do.”

“I’m so glad you’re here with me again.”

Emily looked to the sky with a hand behind her head. Her raven hair sprawled across the picnic blanket and she wrinkled her nose in a squint up at the sky. A preposterously large cloud wafted by, delicate and fluffy with the promise of no downpour.

Her next words were quiet, on the same level as the murmur of the lake swilling up tiny waves on the island’s shore. But even if Emily had been the only sound in the world, Y/N would not have believed what was being given to them.

“For good this time.”

Y/N sat up straight away, causing Emily to shield her eyes from the sunlight thrown at her from behind her lover.

“Really?”

“I’m here to stay.”

“I never believed you would.”

“Believe it.”

If Emily had been sitting up beside Y/N, she would have been knocked over with the force that Y/N’s hug hit her with. They tipped over to the end of the picnic blanket. The dusty earth welcomed Y/N with open arms as they fell into it. The two shared the lipstick in messy harmony, a single strand of Emily’s hair pressed between their lips like a flower to parchment, forever sealing and preserving their love.

[lucienarcheron]

Bouquet Full of Loathing [ Elucien ]

Inspired by: this  and the Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” | Originally posted on my previous blog on 10.01.2017.

Pairing: Lucien x Elain Genre: Fluff/Humor Rating: SFW Recommended listen: McFly - Love is Easy

Author’s note:  This was my first ever acotar fic and will always hold a special place in my heart!

*slam*

“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you to someone in flower?”

Lucien was furious. He was fuming. He was positive that if was possible, he’d actually be on fire. It was too fucken early for him to be going back and forth with his coworker but that bitch loved to undermine him and continuously make his life hell at work.

Due to his outburst after their latest argument, his manager, who also happened to be that demon’s manager, was forcing him to make amends by buying her a nice bouquet of flowers to say he was sorry. Which he wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. But oh, she was going to get that bouquet of flowers.

The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away and taking a walk gave him a way to release some of his anger. But what he didn’t expect was to find a beautiful young woman behind the counter, staring at him like he was crazy. Then again, who walks into a flower shop and demands those kinds of flowers?

His eyes went to the nametag on the front of her dress and he felt his face go red.

Elain. Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl.

Elain, on the other hand, was slightly taken aback.

She loved her flowers. She loved any flowers.

She loved growing things in her garden and every single part of the process mattered to her; planting the seeds, watering them, monitoring their growth, and finally when they blossomed. Her flowers were her babies.

When Feyre and Nesta offered to pitch in and help her open her own flower shop, she was over the moon. Her own savings had fallen a little short and she was thrilled to have the support from her sisters. The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away from where Nesta worked as an editor at a literary agency and a few extra blocks from where Feyre taught Art at the local community college.

It was a great way for the three of them to meet for lunch or dinner quite often, as they would be tonight.

But to Elain, flowers meant many good things: happiness, gratefulness, new beginnings, apologies, and forgiveness. So when this strange angry red-headed man stormed into her shop and slammed money on the counter, growling at her, she was very taken aback at his request.

Elain finally blinked rapidly then chuckled. “Well, hello.” she said and leaned against the counter. “There are a few different ways to do that, Mr…?”

All the anger that Lucien had walked in with completely vanished and was replaced with awe as he took in her features. Gods, she was gorgeous.

Elain tilted her head to the side and Lucien almost combusted as she gave him an encouraging smile and he cleared his throat.

“Lucien.” he mumbled, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the color on his cheeks matching his hair. “My name is Lucien.”

“Welcome to my flower shop, Mr. Lucien.” she replied automatically and gave him an even wider smile. “I see someone’s ruffled your feathers this morning.”

Lucien snorted, causing Elain to giggle. “Ruffled my feathers. More like plucked all my feathers to death that psychotic bit —” he cut himself off as Elain gave him an amused look. “I’m sorry. Let me start over.”

Elain watched, trying to hold back a laugh as Lucien took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Hello.”

“Yes, hello.”

“You have a very lovely flower shop.”

“Thank you! I’ve worked very hard on it.”

“You are also very lovely as well.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself.”

“You could tell me I looked like a piece of filth and I would honestly take it as the highest of compliments.”

Elain burst out laughing at that and Lucien grinned. Score for him.

“Well, that wouldn’t be very nice to say to anyone.” Elain replied, shaking her head with another chuckle. “Besides, it wouldn’t be true. You’re quite lovely yourself.”

Lucien leaned against the counter, the gap between them growing smaller. “I have never felt so lovely in my entire life.” he said, and with an exaggerated flick of his wrist, tossed his hair over his shoulder.

Elain laughed again and Lucien realized he’d only been in the shop for five minutes but he’d sell his soul to hear that sound over and over again.

“You have quite the humor, Mr. Lucien.”

“Lucien. Just...Lucien.” he corrected her gently with a smile. “Mister sounds too formal and I’d prefer to be on casual terms with the person that’s going to give me my special request flowers.” 

“Your ‘fuck you’ flowers?” she asked with a grin and he had the audacity to give a nonchalant shrug.

“The person deserves them, I can assure you.” he replied and sighed. “It’s my coworker. She makes my life a living hell at work. We had a fight and my manager is forcing me to get flowers as an apology. This is me trying to be nice.”

“By sending her ‘fuck you’ flowers?” Elain asked again, her lips twitching. She wondered about this so called ‘horrible coworker’.

“Keyword here, is trying.” he said with a grin and Elain laughed. “Not all of us can be as nice as you, Elain.”

Elain’s cheeks flushed. She liked the way he said her name a lot more than she’d care to admit.

“And how do you know I’m nice?” she countered, leaning off the counter and crossing her arms across her chest with a smile. “You’ve only just met me.”

“Your name is Elain, you’re beautiful, and you own a flower shop. You could literally stab a man in front of me and I would just say he had it coming.” Lucien promptly replied. He sounded insane, he was well aware, but instinct told him he wasn’t wrong. “Also, you smell really nice.”

Elain rolled her eyes and wanted to curse herself for the blush on her cheeks and the smile that was way too wide. “Are you always this shameless of a flirt, Lucien?”

He straightened up as Elain pulled out a book from under the counter and placed it in front of him, flipping through the pages. “Only with pretty girls who own flowershops named Elain.” he said and gave her a charming smile when she paused her flipping to look at him.

She shook her head and chuckled lightly. He was shameless. Very handsome but oh so shameless. “So,” she started, going back to flipping through her flower book for the right ones to fit his order, pointing as she explained. “We have a few options for your amusing choice in the bouquet. There are Geraniums — Horseshoe Geranium which specifically means stupidity and Foxglove flowers which can mean insincerity. There’s also Meadowsweet flowers which mean uselessness, Yellow Carnations that indicate you’re disappointed in a person and last but not least, Orange Lilies which symbolize hatred.”

Elain finally looked up at Lucien, whose grin had gotten wider and wider with each flower that she rattled off and she laughed at his expression. “I take it all these options sound good?” she questioned with a raised brow.

Lucien’s grin was wicked. “Oh, these sound fantastic. Can I have a mix of them all in a bouquet? Please?”

Elain rolled her eyes and chuckled. “As you wish, good sir.” she said then pursed her lips as she started writing down his order. “Is there a note you’d like me to add with the bouquet?”

His eyes lingered on her pursed lips long enough that Elain had to look up confused at his silence and a blush crept on both their faces.

“Sorry.” he said with a sheepish grin and Elain bit her lip, holding back a smile as she continued filling out the order. A moment passed in silence before she responded.

“I don’t mind.” she said softly.

“Good. Because there’s a lot to admire.” Lucien responded, leaning back on the counter, closer to her.

“I’m sure getting spoiled with compliments today.” she said, giving him a playful smile and he grinned in return.

“They’re all well-deserved compliments. I meant them all.”

“Oh, I know. It’s why I haven’t kicked you out yet.” she said as she moved around her counter, grabbing a note card for him to write on and a pen as he laughed. “For your note. The bouquet shouldn’t take too long...I’m caught up on all my early orders. Would you like to wait or should I have them delivered?”

She tilted her head, waiting for his answer and the smile she gave him told him their thoughts were on the same wavelength.

She wanted him to wait.

And wait he would. He’d wait an eternity for those fucken flowers as long as she kept talking to him. Lucien had shamelessly told her this, realizing too late that he was babbling his thoughts aloud.

Elain’s laughter was enough to ease his embarrassment and the two continued chatting as she moved about, putting the bouquet together. Lucien watched her, appreciating the way she moved and talked and the way she laughed at his jokes. Elain’s cheeks were stained red as they talked, trying to contain how much she was enjoying the attention he was giving her, and how invested he was in everything she was saying and doing. Their conversation was comfortable and flowed so naturally that both of them were slightly disappointed in how quickly she finished.

Giving him a shy smile, she gently placed the finished bouquet in all it’s glory in front of him. “Here it is!” she said cheerfully. “Your requested bouquet. Beautiful and full of loathing.”

Lucien grinned, eyeing her work approvingly. “It looks stunning.” he replied and Elain smiled widely, pleased. “Just like the lovely lady who put it together.”

Elain giggled as he reached out, taking her hand and kissed it. “You’re too much.” she mumbled and Lucien chuckled.

“I can’t help it. Something about you…” he said quietly and the two locked eyes.

“Something about you too.” she agreed and Lucien smiled. He paid her and balanced the bouquet in his hands. His eyes flickered between the bouquet and the beautiful girl who had made it and he quickly licked his lips.

“Would...would you like to go out to dinner sometime?” he asked and relief filled his whole body as she beamed at him.

“I would love to.”

“Great! Friday night?”

“I’ll be ready at 6:30.”

“Perfect.”

Elain smiled at him then grabbed one of her notecards and quickly jot down her number. “I expect more shameless flirting till then.” she said softly, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And I will be more than happy to oblige.” He replied, giving her a wink and Elain giggled.

“I’ll see you Friday then.”

“I’ll be flirting with you sooner than that though.” he replied and she winked at him in return, a blush erupting on both their cheeks.

“I look forward to it.”

“Gods, you’re so fucken cute.” Lucien mumbled and Elain laughed, dipping her head shyly. “I have to leave before this kills me.”

She covered her burning face, grinning widely as she then waved him off. “Go back to work before you get fired.”

“Worth it.” he said, using his free hand to make a finger gun and she snorted softly as he waved then finally left the shop.

Elain bit her lip, smiling to herself. In one way or another, her flowers were always bringing her joy.

~

Elain rushed into the restaurant where she had agreed to meet her sisters earlier that day. She was very excited to tell them about her encounter with Lucien. He had kept his word about the shameless flirting and had her phone buzzing all day; she still couldn’t believe how it happened.

Her pace slowed down when she saw Feyre and Nesta, both seated at their usual table, secluded in a quiet corner of their favorite place. It wasn’t until she was close enough to hear their conversation that she froze completely. On the chair next to Nesta was her sister's bag and a bouquet of flowers that was strangely familiar.

Too familiar.

“And then this asshole hands it to me with a note that says ‘I’m sorry’ in quotation marks like the sarcastic little shit he is.” Nesta snarled and Feyre started laughing. “And then adds that I should look up the meaning of each flower to really appreciate his apology. I’m going to ask Elain what they mean.”

“You are really mean to him, Nes. I’m sure he’s not as horrible as you make him sound.”

“He’s a piece of shit. It brings me joy to make him miserable.” Nesta said with a snort and then noticed Elain. “Elain! You’re finally here. Come on, we’re starving.”

Elain approached the table and sat down slowly, smiling nervously. Oh boy.

“...Nice flowers, Nesta.”

“Thanks.” Nesta replied with a wave of her hand and then picked them up to show Elain. “I got them from a shithead at work as an apology. What do the flowers mean?”

Elain groaned internally. It was indeed her own bouquet full of loathing. She bit her lip. “The guy who gave them to you...his name is Lucien, right?”

Nesta froze and Feyre looked at her curiously. “Yes.” she hissed. Quickly grabbing the note card again, Nesta looked it over. “How did I not notice that he got them from your shop!? That bastard! Did he bother you?!”

“No! He was very sweet.” Elain replied quickly, blushing. “Actually...he asked me out on a date and I said yes. We’ve been texting all day.”

Silence fell on the table before Feyre burst out laughing and Nesta snarled, “What?!”

“It’s later this week. I’m...looking forward to it.”

“Like hell you’re going!” Nesta hissed. “With that idiot! That good for nothing garbage can —”

Elain cut her off with a look. “Nesta.”

Feyre’s laughter had finally subsided and she wiped at her eyes. “Nes...you should be excited for her. She likes him!”

Elain narrowed her eyes at Nesta’s face that was filled with rage, daring her to argue. Feyre looked between the two, her lips twitching.

“So what’s he actually like, then?” Feyre quickly asked. “We know Nesta hates him and makes his life living hell at work.”

Elain gave Nesta one more look before her eyes flickered to Feyre’s face and she gave her a small smile. “He’s actually really nice and funny. I —”

“He has a glass eye and a scar across his face!”  Nesta’s growl interrupting her.

“So?!” Elain automatically replied, pouting. “He got it in an accident! It makes him a strong person!”

“He has a glass eye!”

“It makes no difference to me! I like his personality!”

“He’s an asshole, Elain!”

“You think Cassian’s an asshole too and you’re living with him!” Elain hissed back. “Your judgement isn’t exactly perfect!”

“Well, she gets dicked down by Cassian so I mean…” Feyre interjected with a shrug and Nesta glared at her, her cheeks burning.

“That is irrelevant.”

“Is it, Nes? Is it really?” Feyre asked with a raised brow.

The table fell silent again as Nesta and Elain glared at each other and Feyre tried her best not to laugh. It was only when her phone beeped that Elain torn her eyes away from the vicious staring contest with her sister.

Text from: Lucien How’s dinner going with your sisters? Hopefully, I’m not interrupting anything.

Elain’s eyes looked back up at her sisters and her blush gave away who she was talking to, causing Nesta to glare even harder and Feyre to grin widely.

Text from: Elain No, not at all! I was just telling them about you…funny enough, one of my sisters knows you.

Text from: Lucien Really? What a small world! Which sister is that?

Elain hesitated before she sent the next message.

Text from: Elain The coworker you bought the bouquet full of loathing for. She goes by the name Nesta…though you might refer to her very differently.

Elain bit her lip, frowning after she sent the message. She flipped her phone over and then looked at her sisters.

“Now he knows we’re sisters.” Elain grumbled as Feyre rattled off their usual orders to the waiter.

“Good. If he’s smart, he’ll back off.” Nesta growled and Feyre shoved her gently.

“You back off. Let her live.”

“I don’t like him.”

“There’s a surprise.”

Elain’s reply didn’t make it to her mouth when her phone started ringing. Flipping it over, she blinked in surprise at Lucien’s name popping up. She immediately picked up.

“Hello?”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting you at dinner but I realize how awkward this position is for you right now.” he said, hoping he sounded as apologetic as he felt.

Elain chuckled, a small smile on her face. “Are you calling to tell me our date is canceled now?”

“No.” he replied and Elain’s smile grew wider at how horrified he sounded at the idea. He cleared his throat. “I actually wanted to apologize for saying those things about your sister earlier and I promise that I’ll behave and keep work and personal life separate so that you don’t have to feel weird because your sister and I hate each other. Professionally speaking.”

Elain laughed softly. “Just professionally?”

“...Please don’t make this more difficult for me.” he whined softly on the phone. “It’s bad enough I bought her a bouquet full of loathing from her own sister’s shop.”

“Plot twist, isn’t it?”

It was Lucien’s turn to laugh. “Yes, it is. Does she know what the flowers mean?”

Elain grinned. “Not yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way, please.”

“Fair enough.”

“Really, Elain? You’re letting that walking pile of trash interrupt our dinner like this?” Nesta said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard on the other end of the line.

Elain gave Nesta a reproachful look as Feyre shoved her again. “Behave.”

“Fine...but let me talk to him. He is my coworker after all.” Nesta said, her tone calm. She held out her hand.

Elain looked at her suspiciously but Nesta just wiggled her fingers. Her mouth went into a thin and she sighed. “Lucien, Nesta wants to talk to you.”

“More plot twists.” he said, chuckling.

“You don’t have to.” Elain automatically said but both Lucien and Nesta responded at the same time.

“Yes, he does.

“Yes, I do.”

Elain groaned and then held the phone to her chest. “Nesta...please be polite.”

“No guarantees.”

Squinting at her older sister, she finally handed her the phone with a sigh, pressing on the speaker so they could all hear.

“Hello cockroach.” Nesta greeted him and Elain facepalmed as Feyre snorted.

“Hello demon.”

“Of all the people you decided to hit on, you had to choose my sister?”

“I respectfully asked her out on a date. She’s a grown woman. I don’t really think it’s your business.”

“It isn’t.” Elain added and Nesta squinted at her.

“I’m going to be watching your every move and I swear to god if you so much as lay a finger on my sister, I will crush you with my bare hands.” Nesta threatened in one breath. “That is a promise you filthy little vermin —”

Elain snatched the phone from her hand as Feyre cut her off. “Nesta!”

“Jesus christ, Nesta. I’m not going to hurt Elain!” Lucien hissed on the phone.

“What if I want him to touch me?” Elain snapped, knowing it would silence both her sisters and Lucien. “Hm? What if I — what’s the phrase you used about Cassian and Nesta, Feyre? What if I want to get dicked down by Lucien? Would that be such a big deal?”

Lucien made a sound on the phone that sounded like he was choking as Nesta gasped loudly.

“Elain!”

Taking her phone off speaker, she put it back to her ear and spoke softly, “Lucien, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

“Yup. Sounds good.” he responded, truly sounding like the air was being choked out of him and Elain's face turned red.

Closing the call, she eyed her sister and held up a hand as Nesta was ready to launch into a speech. “Listen. I know you’re my older sister and you worry about me because I love flowers and seem like a giant idiot who gets easily fooled —”

“That’s never how I think of you, Elain — “ Nesta quickly interjected, her face falling.

“And I know you’re worried about me because the breakup with Graysen was really bad and I was very hurt,” Elain continued, halting Nesta again as her voice shook. “But I am okay. I am fine. And I’m ready to try something new. So please….please be nice to Lucien. I want to see where this goes.”

Nesta fell silent and Feyre gently leaned over to pat Elain’s hand with a small smile.

“We know, Elain. We love you and support you in whatever decision you want to make.” Feyre said softly. “I look forward to getting to know him.”

“...I’m sorry.” Nesta added and reached out to place her hand on Elain’s other hand. “I’ll behave...Try to be nicer to him.”

“Thank you.” Elain said, a relieved smile on her face until Nesta clenched her hand tightly with death in her eyes.

“But if I ever heard the term dicked down and Lucien in the same sentence again, I will kill someone.”

Silence fell on the table once more as Elain closed her eyes, internally groaning at how she was going to have to address that with Lucien when she got home.

It wasn’t until the waiter served their dinner and walked away that Feyre finally broke the silence.

“But what if she does want to get dicked down by Lucien? Elain sounded very enthusiastic.”

“Feyre!” Nesta hissed as the youngest sister broke down in giggles.

Elain groaned audibly now, her face in her hands knowing Feyre was never going to let this go.

“I’m just saying, go Elain, if she does. Nesta said he was a redhead, do you think the carpet matches the drapes?”

“Feyre —  I swear to all the Gods I will stab you with this fork if you don’t stop.”

“Elain, you’ll be sure to share details, right? I want Nesta to know every detail of when you and Lucien finally get down to business.”

“Feyre —”

“Ohhhh what if Elain visits him at work and you walk in on her getting dicked down by Lucien in his office? On his desk?”

Feyre squeaked as Nesta assaulted her in some form or another. Elain had given up, sighing deeply, her face burning.

Who knew a bouquet of flowers would cause so much trouble?

[live-the-fangirl-life]

🍰

🍰Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

Oof.

First off. I had to wait to answer this until I got back to work cause I created a mass spreadsheet of fics based on author and pairing. So I had to refer to that. (Can you tell I have a lot of downtime? I write a lot of my fics during work)

I can’t just pick one. These are definitely not my only ones, and not in any particular order

Close Quarters by @lady-therion

Bouquet Full of Loathing by @moononastring

A Groovy Kind of Love by @seasonofthewicth

Early Grey and Cappuccinos by @the-regal-warrior

Boys Night Out by @writtenonreceipts

Cruel Summer by @charincharge

Striking Matches by @shyvioletcat

Swipe Left by @tacmc and @snelbz

[secret-gallavich]

word count: 2.7k

tw: suicidal thoughts

-

24 hours

The first 24 hours are the hardest. 

It’s full of regret on his own behalf, self-loathing and running thoughts of ‘what if’. What if he had been paying more attention, what if he wasn’t so focused on work, what if Mickey had been a good husband?

There’d been a lot going on, shit on the news that had gone over his head and thought nothing of but probably bounced around Ian’s head. Work is stressful with trying to get new employees and them not working out so they’re on the road a lot more, the stress probably keeping Ian awake at night. The anniversary of Monica passing away came and went and Ian was the only one who went to her grave with a bouquet of flowers. 

Mickey tries his best to not hover around his husband. Doesn’t ask everyday if he’s taken his pills because trust is important and he has this pill organiser that Mickey takes a glance at when he’s making coffee to see that they’ve been taken in the morning. He doesn’t ask Ian if he’s okay any more than usual and keeps an eye out for things out of the ordinary. 

Or he thought he did at least.

read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51224806

[scurvgirl]

Love Plans

@lillotte17 Happy Valentine’s Day! Please accept this hastily written Modern AU Tonlen x Oisin fic! 

_____________

Tonlen has always been a fan of any excuse to engage in over-the-top behavior. He is particularly fond of over-the-top romantic gestures, and that fondness has only grown since attaching himself to his current partner. It’s their first love-day as a couple and he isn’t going to squander it. The plans were made over a month in advance and now he gets to bask in the joy of enacting them. 

He wakes far earlier than he normally likes to shower and dress with care. He opts for something slightly more masculine than usual in cut, but the suit itself is still wine in color and pairs nicely with the ruffled white shirt. His hair, currently shorter than normal at only coming past his shoulders, is put into a braided circle round his head. Still, he opts for white embroidered pumps that will put him at just a hair shorter than Oisin. He keeps his makeup simple only for the fact that he doesn’t care for smudged makeup during sex and he definitely plans on making love to Oisin later. 

Part one of the plan should have already arrived at Oisin’s apartment. A bouquet of chocolate covered fruits alongside delectable pastries for their breakfast. 

Part two of the plan is in Tonlen’s living room - another bouquet, but this time of hand-embroidered silk flowers. He loves flowers, but they die and for the first time, Tonlen feels the pull of something that lasts longer than the life of a living rose. Tonlen is no painter or drawer, he leaves that to Oisin, but he is quite the seamstress. There are precisely eleven flowers, one for each of the ten months they have been together and one more for the future he hopes they have together. 

Tonlen puts the flowers together and puts them into a special case. They’ll get the flowers tonight at dinner, which brings them to part four of the plan. Tonlen managed to secure a reservation at Sphere, the latest fancy restaurant to take the city by storm. Tonlen can hardly wait, but alas, he has a full day at the studio that requires his attention. Fashion week isn’t far and he has final touches to do for several designers for specially commissioned shoes. 

Halfway through the day, Tonlen sends out part three of the plan - new hair clips, ribbons, shoes, and gloves with a note that says “For our lovely evening, my love.” He doesn’t like to think about how he spent on this day, and instead on how much he wants Oisin to feel loved. Part three is only the first of sartorial surprises after all. He wiggles in his seat, excited to wear the exceptionally naughty lingerie he bought himself. 

Finally, the day comes to an end and his work is at a satisfactory point to be left alone. Unfortunately, with his time at his studio and Oisin’s time at theirs, there is no time for him to collect them. To maintain the surprise, Tonlen had a car pick Oisin up from their studio and bring them to Sphere. 

Tonlen manages to make it to the dock first. He had to make this reservation two months in advance and it’s no surprise why. Sphere sits magically suspended over a large artificially created pond and one must travel via small boat to access it. The restaurant is not large due to the constraints of magic and the size of the pond as well, thus only allowing a dozen people to be seated at a time. With its restriction on the number of guests at a time, guests must reserve sections of time. Tonlen reserved a two hour slot close to prime-time, though not quite that desired 6pm-8pm slot. It’s no matter, he’s just happy to have secured the spot at all. 

When Oisin arrives, they take Tonlen’s breath away. It’s always been a skill they possess, with merely a smile and a turn towards him, his throat closes, his chest aches in the best of ways. Tonight, they are stunning - their golden hair long and loose save for a few braids pulled back and secured by the ribbons and clips he sent them. Their hands are covered by the lace gloves he sent, and ah, those are the shoes he made for them as well. They are a delight to his eyes, with their high-waisted pleated pants, low v-neck blouse, and fitted trench-coat. 

“Darling,” Tonlen greets and they come to him, beaming. 

“Vhenan,” they reply before leaning down to kiss him. With that, the night was off. The ferry to the restaurant is spent with them pressed against each other, smiling and resisting from too much PDA lest the other guests be put off. They are still in public after all. 

Dinner is delightful, the restaurant is everything it promised to be and more. Though Tonlen feels he could be in almost any hole in the wall and happy as long as he has Oisin as a dining companion. 

They are touching in some way throughout dinner - holding hands, a foot rubbing the other’s leg, taking a hand to the mouth to brush a kiss over knuckles. He adores them and wants with all of his body for them to understand to the degree he loves them, and how...miraculous it is that he feels this way. 

Dinner ends and they are ferried back across the pond. Tonlen takes Oisin’s hand in his own and is rewarded with an adoring smile. He leans into them, his lips brushing gently against their ear.

“The night has only begun, my darling.” They shiver and lean into him. Their sexual relationship is still young and he is still showing them things, things he delights in teaching. 

He takes them to his car and gives them the bouquet of hand-made flowers. He goes over how each has a month stitched into a petal along with a word describing it. The first month they meant carries “discovery”, followed by “delight”, then “joy” and so forth. The eleventh carries the words “future” and “together”.

“Tonlen, I…” their voice cracks and they sniffle. It is Tonlen’s only warning before the tears begin to flow. He had expected this somewhat, learning that they are given to strong emotion and crying when overwhelmed even when happy. He pulls them in for an embrace, kissing their cheek and ear in reassurance.

“You are so dear, Oisin, so lovely.” It is a bit sick, he thinks, that he almost gains joy from having them cry in abject happiness. 

Eventually, their tears subside enough for them to pull away and kiss him tenderly. While he would love to continue a dalliance here, in the parking lot of a beautifully lit dock - he has an even more delightful set up back home. So he guides Oisin into the passenger seat and takes them to his building. They are familiar with his building and they move to press the number to his apartment, but he stops them, opting for the “5” instead of the “4”. 

“Ton?” They ask and he smiles.

“I have one more surprise, darling...well, two if you count what I am wearing underneath this suit, and I quite hope you do count it.” He kisses them deeply before they can respond. 

The elevator rises and rises until it lands at floor 5. Tonlen takes Oisin’s hand and leads them down a hall and to a room that he opens with a key from the former occupant. The door opens and reveals a beautiful apartment with a banner hanging from the ceiling. 

Will you move in with me?

Oisin freezes and turns to Tonlen, “You...what?”

“My friend used to rent this apartment with her girlfriend. She decided to move into a townhome a little further out, she technically still holds the lease until the end of the month and gave me a key to well… It is a much nicer apartment than my current one and it is bigger and I thought...Oisin, I love you dearly and I find myself loathing the time we are apart. So I ask...will you move in with me?” 

As he speaks, their eyes widen and fill with tears once more. Before he can even properly finish the question, they’re nodding, rendered speechless. 

“Yes? Oh, darling.” They fall into each other, as surely and as deeply as their love. 

[moononastring]

Remember Bouquet Full of Loathing & Bouquet Full of Love?

Bouquet Full of Lust coming soon, starring Nessian. 

[mdelpin]

Nothing Says Fuck You...Like a Bouquet of Flowers

Sorry for the crappy edit but I wanted to mark the occasion. I have somehow managed to write 100 Fairy Tail Fics since August 2017. I know boys, I’m shocked too! Here is #100 I hope you enjoy it!

For @oryu404​ and @becausewhenyoupracticeyouimprove​ two amazingly creative souls who have always been both supportive and incredibly fun to work and create with! Note: This story is inspired by this post and the infamous bouquet of loathing!

AO3 | FF.Net

Gray was so tired of Erza’s stupid plans to try to get him and Natsu to get along. Why couldn’t she get it through her damn skull that they were as friendly with each other as they were ever going to get and just leave it at that?

He couldn’t even remember the last time they’d actively tried to kill the other. It must have been at least a year by now? If that wasn’t proof that their relationship had improved, Gray didn’t know what would convince her.

But no, she had demanded he buy Natsu something “nice” to make up for knocking him into next week while he’d been distracted talking to Lucy earlier. The way Gray saw it, it was Natsu’s own fault for not being alert. All he’d done was remind the fire mage that he could be attacked at any moment. He’d done him a favor, really.

Gray grumbled, putting his hand in his pocket to pull out his money pouch, snorting as he realized it had been a gift from Natsu from the last time he’d been on the receiving end of Erza’s machinations. Although for the life of him, Gray couldn’t remember what the dumbass had done to earn the punishment. It was actually a pretty nice pouch made out of some sort of soft fabric he didn’t know the name of.

He opened it and poured his scant jewels into his hand, it looked like he had about 300 jewels on him. What could he possibly buy for that little? Maybe he could buy him some food, Natsu would be sure to appreciate that, but he had a feeling Erza would find fault with it.

Gray walked around town, peering into different shop windows, hoping to find something quickly, but nothing seemed right. He was staring into space when he heard someone speak to him.

“Can I help you find something, dearie?”

“Huh?” Gray blinked, trying to figure out where the voice had come from.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been looking into all the shops. Are you looking for something?”

The voice belonged to an old woman who was standing in front of a flower shop. The one place he’d avoided in his search.

“Oh, yeah. I have to buy a gift for... a friend,” Gray explained, not sure what to call his rival. He guessed most of the time they were friends.

“I see, have you considered flowers? Most everyone likes getting flowers,” the old woman smiled as she showed him the shop behind her. “You can say just about anything with flowers.”

“Can you say I think you’re a stupid, good for nothing two-faced jerk who has disappointed me more times than I can count, and most of the time, I’m pretty sure I hate you?”

“My, that’s very colorful!” the woman laughed, not seemingly put off at all by the harsh words. “Are you sure this is for a friend?”

“Yeah, he’s just infuriating most of the time,” Gray muttered, remembering how he’d started to feel every time Natsu hung out with Lucy instead of him. It was just like it used to be before Lisanna had “died” and it bugged him. If he were actually honest with himself, that had probably had more to do with his attack than anything else, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

“Anyway, I should probably get back to it before the stores start closing.”

“Hang on, I never said I couldn’t help you. You can absolutely say all that with flowers,” the woman asserted, looking amused at the doubt on his face.

“Here, I’ll show you,” she grabbed him by the arm and brought him inside her shop.

“Let’s see,” she peered around the bright room until she found the flowers she was looking for, grabbing one and showing it to Gray, “This one here is a geranium, it symbolizes stupidity.”

Gray chortled as he saw the flower came in a shade of pink very close to Natsu’s hair color.

Figures.

Gray knew squat about flowers except that some of them smelled awful, so he was intrigued by the idea that different flowers could mean different things. It sort of amused him to be able to give Natsu an “apology” gift that was quite literally a fuck you. Could it possibly get any better? Even Erza couldn’t say anything to that since he was quite sure the requip mage knew as much about flowers as he did.

He watched with fascination as the woman continued to pull out different flowers, showing them to him and explaining their meaning.

Foxglove for insincerity

Meadowsweet for uselessness

Yellow carnations for disappointment

Orange lilies for hatred

There quite literally was a flower for every sentiment he had jokingly expressed. And the absolute best thing about it all was that it was quite colorful. Hell, the way some of the colors of the flowers blended together made them almost look like bursts of flames. Natsu would absolutely go gaga over them. Gray could not contain his excitement, this might be the absolute best prank he had ever pulled off, and no one would be the wiser.

He felt quite proud of himself for having stumbled onto this opportunity.

“Alright, so say I wanted to have a bouquet made out of these flowers, how much would it set me back?”

“Well,” the old woman hesitated, clearly wanting to make a sale but not wanting to scare him off, “How much do you have?”

“All I’ve got is like 300 jewels,” Gray replied honestly, it wasn’t a huge sum so he wouldn’t mind using it all up, not considering the payback.

“For 300 jewels, I’ll have it delivered!” the old woman chirped. She gestured Gray towards a display of small cards. “Pick one out and write a message for your friend. Make sure to put his name and where you want it delivered on the envelope, and I’ll make sure my delivery boy gets it there today.”

Gray nodded his acceptance and began to look through the cards as the woman selected flowers. “Oh, and can you make sure you add in some of those pink geraniums, he’ll love those.” Gray giggled to himself as he finally selected a card.

He tapped the tip of the fountain pen gently on the table and tried to think of the perfect message, eyes lighting up when he finally came up with what he wanted.

Gray hastily scrawled it on the card, waiting for the ink to dry before putting it in the envelope and addressing it to Natsu Dragneel at the Fairy Tail Guild.

Handing the envelope over to the old woman, he once again removed his pouch, and while ignoring the twinge of guilt that attempted to distract him from his goal, he emptied its contents on the work table.

The woman smiled at him in acceptance, “Don’t you worry, my grandson will have these over to him as soon as I am done!”

Gray nodded, and before leaving the store, he thanked her gracefully, “This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

She laughed and waved as he left.

0-0

Gray wandered around town for a bit longer knowing he would go stir crazy at the guild waiting for the flowers to be delivered, plus there was the off chance that he’d get into another fight with Natsu that would make him leave the guild and miss the delivery of his present.

Once he thought enough time had passed, he made his way back to the guild, his entire body thrumming with anticipation. As he entered, he was immediately approached by Erza.

“Did you do as we discussed?”

“Yes, Erza, it should be here any minute,” Gray assured her.

“What did you get him?” she asked, eyebrow already raised in suspicion.

“Don’t worry, he’ll absolutely love it.”

“He’d better,” Erza threatened before moving to their team’s table and sitting down with Lucy, the two of them immediately immersing themselves in conversation.

“Hey, Ice Bastard, let’s go! You and me, right now!” Natsu’s flaming fist was in front of his face before he could protest.

“Boys!” Erza yelled from her table, “Isn’t one fight a day enough?”

“What do you mean?” Natsu complained, “That wasn’t a fight, he sucker-punched me, at least I’m calling him out.”

“I don’t care, I’ve had just about enough out of the two of you for one day,” Erza growled, “Gray, why don’t you go ahead and give Natsu his present so that we can all move on?”

“Oh, uhm, I don’t have it on me. It’s being delivered,” Gray explained quickly, wanting to defuse Erza before she had a chance to get going on one of her rants.”

“Delivered?” Natsu puzzled, “What kind of present gets delivered? Oh! Is it food? Cause I’m starving.”

“I thought about it, but I figured Erza wouldn’t accept that.”

“Oh!” Natsu laughed knowingly, “It’s one of those presents.”

“Alright, well, when is this present coming?” he asked, and there was no disguising the excitement in his eyes. Natsu was still a little kid when it came to anything present related.

Gray looked out the window and noticed a young boy walking around, holding some flowers and a note that he peered at before studying at all the buildings fixedly and finally walking their way.

“Looks like it’s just about to get here,” Gray declared, a smile already gracing his lips at the prospect.

Not one minute later, the door to the guild opened, and the boy entered. “I’m looking for a Mr. Natsu Dragneel, is he here?”

“I’m Natsu Dragneel, “Natsu walked over to him, and the boy handed him the bouquet of flowers which had been covered in colorful paper as well as plastic to keep them safe while they traveled.

Natsu’s nose must have been going into overdrive, for he stood there for a full minute sniffing all the different flowers and peering at their colors excitedly, just as Gray had known he would.

“Can I get your signature to show my grandma I delivered them?” the young boy asked, and Natsu quickly obliged, borrowing a pen from Mira to do so. “Thank you!”

“Wait!” Natsu called out before the little boy could leave. “Lucy, can I borrow some jewels?”

Lucy made a show of complaining, but she placed some jewels in Natsu’s hand nonetheless, and he quickly handed them to the little boy.

The little boy’s eyes lit up at the money, “Thank you!” he called out, bowing to both Natsu and Lucy before running off.

“You got him flowers?” Erza gushed at Gray, admiring the bouquet Natsu was holding. “I didn’t actually expect you to do something nice.”

“Those are really pretty, Gray, “ Lucy added, “the orange and yellow ones especially, they look just like fire. That was really thoughtful of you.”

Gray nodded absently, fascinated by the expression on Natsu’s face, even managing to ignore Juvia’s wails in the background as she realized her beloved had bought flowers, and they hadn’t even been for her.

“Oh, there’s a note!” Natsu exclaimed, grabbing the small envelope and setting his flowers gently on the nearest table so he could open it and read his message.

Natsu’s entire body, all the way to his ears, had become covered in a light coating of fire, which confused Gray greatly, not knowing quite what to make of his reaction.

He thought of the message he’d printed on the notecard.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Neither of those flowers is in this bouquet

But it still shows how I feel about you….

He’d felt really clever when he came up with it, and he still did, so why was Natsu acting so strangely and why was it beginning to affect him.

“I- I wasn’t expecting this,” Natsu finally said something, but it wasn’t really much help.

“I’m glad you like it?” Gray replied unsurely, still not positive what was going on or why now it seemed like everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the two of them intently.

Juvia’s wails were only becoming louder, while Cana kept telling anyone who would listen that she’d known it all along, her cards had foreseen it.

Oh, God!

It was then that Gray realized he had not thought this through well enough. It seemed like Natsu, not to mention everyone else in the guild, thought the flowers were some sort of love confession.

Shit, Shit, Shit! He is going to beat the crap out of me for this. This isn’t funny at all!

“I’d told Lucy I was giving up this morning right before you punched me, but now to receive this from you, I- I don’t know what to say.”

Excuse me? What?!

Gray had been about to open his mouth to explain when those words washed all over him. Natsu liked him?! When the hell did that happen, and how come he didn’t know?! What should he do?

He heard a whisper in his ear, “I don’t know what your actual play was here, but I do know If you screw this up, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

He jumped to see Erza give him a threatening look.

“Uhm, it’s no big deal,” Gray laughed nervously, tugging at his hair in the hopes it would circulate some blood into his brain that might help him get out of this unscathed.

“I don’t know about that Gray, I don’t think you even sent me flowers when we thought Lisana had died,” Mira smiled sweetly.

“You never bought me any flowers,” Juvia whined, absolutely positively not helping his case at all.

He could hear muffled snickering from the corner as both Freed and Bickslow attempted to hide their amusement at his discomfort. Before he had any time to do anything other than sending a glare their way, he was confronted by an even bigger problem.

“Oh, hey, Gray, what do the different flowers mean?” Lucy asked as she examined Natsu’s flowers more closely.

“Yes, Gray,” Erza’s arms were crossed in front of her chest, and he could tell from her smirk that she had already figured out what he’d done, “Please enlighten us, we’d like to know too.”

Gray’s eyes darted from one guild member to the next, all of them staring at him with varying expressions, but the one look he didn’t find on any of them was sympathy for his plight.

Unbreakable bonds, my ass!

“Meanings? I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Gray coughed, trying to buy himself some time, “I just, uhm, you know, thought they were pretty.”

“Is that so?” Erza raised her eyebrow at him again as she showed him the card he’d hastily written out earlier, “That’s funny, your message seems to indicate you do.”

Natsu’s gaze was locked on him, and Gray was having a hard time thinking straight. His green eyes were opened wide, and he looked so earnest and damn it vulnerable, and Gray instinctively knew Erza had been right. He couldn’t fuck around with this.

“Uhm the pinks ones are called geraniums, “ Gray calmly began to dig his own grave, what else could he do? Now that Lucy had opened her big mouth, he had no choice but to come up with meanings that didn’t sound terrible, and the others would accept. “I picked them cause they reminded me of your hair.”

That part was at least true. “They’re soft like your hair, too,” Gray blurted out, remembering a job not that long ago when Erza had knocked Natsu out on the train, and he’d ended up on his lap. Gray had spent most of the ride absently running his fingers through Natsu’s hair, feeling utterly relaxed as he watched the scenery rush by.

“Yes, but what does it mean?” Lucy asked again, earning herself her very own glare.

Okay, what could he change stupid to? Fun? Yeah, fun was good, and it was true that Natsu could be stupidly fun at times.

“Fun? Yeah, fun.” Gray tried to sound self-assured, but the way Natsu was furrowing his forehead made him think he wasn’t too convincing.

What were the others? Insincerity, uselessness, disappointment, and hatred his brain supplied helpfully.

This was never going to work, he wasn’t good under pressure. Not with words, anyway. Fuuuuuuuuck! Why did he have to be such an asshole?

His choices were limited. He could come clean now and earn both Erza and Natsu’s wrath, not to mention the entire guild’s for Natsu’s embarrassment, or he could try to make a run for it before he managed to put his foot in his mouth.

Gray was about to bolt when Cana came for him out of nowhere. “Just a minute, guys, I need him for something,” she called out before grabbing him by the arm and dragging him upstairs to the infirmary.

“What are you doing?!” she hissed at him, “You’re gonna blow your chance.”

“Huh?” he blinked at her, having no clue what she meant.

Cana facepalmed, muttering something about boys being stupid.

“Gray,” she began, using the same tone Gray had heard Erza use on Natsu when she was attempting to teach him something she thought a toddler should understand. “Why do you pick fights with Natsu all the time?”

“Cause he thinks he’s better than me,” Gray immediately responded with a scowl.

“Really? Did he think he was better than you when you punched him this morning?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Gray, have you seriously not noticed that you mostly pick on him when he’s talking to Lucy?”

“What, no?!” he protested even though he had to admit there might be something to that, but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

“He’s just with her all the time, “ he declared, frowning at Cana.

“Uhuh, and that bothers you. Does it bother you when Natsu spends time with Erza or Happy?” Cana grinned knowingly.

“Don’t be stupid,” he sputtered, “Erza is Erza, we’ve known her forever, and Happy is a cat.”

“So just Lucy, then?”

“Maybe Lisanna, too,” he admitted grudgingly.

Cana slapped her leg in mirth, “I knew it! You are such a dope.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re in love with Natsu, you dumbass!”

“No, I’m not,” Gray disputed hotly, getting progressively more irritated by the gleeful expression on Cana’s face.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Loke laughed, appearing out of nowhere.

“Am not, why are you even here?”

“I was bored and popped in to whatever is going on downstairs,” Loke shrugged, “By the way, Levy is looking for some sort of flower encyclopedia in the guild library. I have a feeling that information is relevant, seeing as Natsu is holding the nastiest symbolic bouquet I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your work?”

“How do you even know about that stuff?”

“I’m a celestial spirit, I know all about symbolism, kinda my thing. Plus, I’ve bought many a lady flowers.”

No! Damn Levy and her stupid need to know everything! He was starting to get even more agitated.

“Just tell him you love him and get him out of the guild before she finds it,” Cana advised, “I can send Gajeel to distract her.”

“I already told you I -”

“That you’re in incredible denial?” Loke grinned, “No need to tell us, we know. We’ve watched you ogle him for years.”

“I do not ogle him,” Gray insisted, although, okay maybe he did look at Natsu more than was strictly necessary.

“Sure you don’t,” both Cana and Loke teased. “Have you seen how you get when anyone but you messes with him?”

Before he could protest that accusation, Loke grabbed him, putting his arm around his shoulder and squeezing it in solidarity, “Dude, just go down there and tell him how you feel. You already know he likes you. It’s not like you have anything to lose.” Loke advised.

“If you don’t, or Levy gets back before you have a chance to talk to him, he’ll be humiliated, and he’ll never forgive you. Any chance you might have had will be gone.”

“You know how proud and stubborn Natsu can be,” Cana reminded him, “Good luck getting through that if you fuck this up.”

“Ugh, I’m so confused, how do I know whether I’m in love with him or not?”

Loke smacked him on the back of the head with a sigh. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Why do I have to close my-”

“Close your fucking eyes!”

“Fine, you don’t have to be such a jerk about it.” Gray closed his eyes and emptied his head as much as he could, although the tension didn’t entirely leave him.

“I want you to imagine kissing Juvia,” Loke demanded.

Gray tried to do as Loke asked, but he just couldn’t manage it, the most he was able to muster was a peck on the cheek.

“You done?” Loke asked, and when Gray nodded, he added, “Don’t open them yet, now do the same but with Natsu.”

Gray nodded, and this time there were tongues and teeth, moans and grunts and hair pulls, and he could feel the blood rush to his face.

“I rest my case,” Loke patted him on the back.

“Holy shit! I’m in love with Natsu,” Gray yelled only to hear Cana and Loke burst into laughs.

“Welcome to the party!” Cana cheered, “Better late than never. Now go down there before Levy can ruin it!”

Gray opened the door of the infirmary and ran down the stairs. He could hear Levy coming from the downstairs library, muttering that she had thought the geranium thing had sounded fishy.

Without a second thought, Gray froze up that entire entrance so that Levy couldn’t get back to the main room just yet. He could hear Gajeel complaining, but he seemed more interested in seeing things play out, especially as Levy didn’t really need his help to deal with the ice.

“I’m back,” Gray announced unnecessarily, hearing Loke and Cana coming down the stairs behind him.

“What is going on?” Natsu’s eyes had gone from earnest to suspicious, and Gray cringed, knowing he had very little time left. “Why did you ice that entrance?”

“Look, just forget about the flower meanings, all that stuff is stupid anyway. The important thing is that I like you too.” He grabbed Natsu by the arm and tried to steer him out of the guild, but Natsu refused to budge, shaking Gray off.

“You buy me flowers, write me that message, and then you start acting strangely the moment someone asks you about the meanings,” Natsu accused, and Gray could feel the room heating up around him, mirroring Natsu’s emotions. “You were messing with me, weren’t you? It’s gotta be some sort of insult.”

Now that the initial surprise at the gift had worn away, Natsu studied him carefully, taking in everything about him. Unfortunately, for Gray, he had always been able to read him better than anyone else.

“I am such an idiot, of course, it is!” Natsu yelled, “To think that I-, nevermind.”

“Wait! You’re right. I was pissed at Erza for making me get you something, so I was an ass,” Gray admitted, “Honestly, had you been with me, you probably would have gotten a kick out of it.”

He chuckled weakly but stopped when he noticed Natsu wasn’t joining in, he only looked more upset with every word that came out of Gray’s mouth. Alright, time to put his cards on the table.

“I’m sorry, I will get you a different present if you want, but I swear to you, I do like you,” Gray pleaded, “I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Wait a minute, now you’re trying to say you do like me?” Natsu searched his face again and seemed confused by whatever he found there. “That wasn’t part of the prank?”

Gray shook his head, wracking his brain for a way to prove his words.

“Alright, you have one chance to come clean, if I even sense you’re lying to me, we’re over before we start,” Natsu warned, his heated glare not filling Gray with much hope. “What do the flowers really mean?”

“Fine,” Gray accepted the challenge, knowing the only way out of this was to take his lumps. He avoided looking at Erza as he ticked each meaning off on his fingers. “Stupidity, disappointment, uselessness, hatred, and insincerity.”

Gray got the punch he was expecting, although he was a little surprised at the force behind it. Still, he took it without comment, knowing full well he deserved it, but it was what Natsu did next that surprised him.

Natsu roared with laughter, holding on to his sides as he doubled over. “You can say all that with flowers?!”

“You’re not mad?” Gray sputtered in disbelief.

“I mean yeah, a little, but I have to admit that’s pretty amazing and,” he declared sheepishly, his carefree demeanor allowing Gray to relax a little. “I would have been so tempted, too.”

He grabbed Gray’s hand and dragged him out of the guild.

“Hey, wait! Where are you taking me?”

“I want you to take me to that flower shop, I need to get a bouquet made for Gajeel,” Natsu grinned even as his eyes twinkled with mischief.

“We’ll talk on the way, I think we’ve caused enough of a scene for one day, don’t you?”

Gray could certainly agree with that sentiment, and full of curiosity as to what their talk would bring, he let Natsu pull him along.

Off they went, leaving the sounds of the guild behind as they strolled through town with their hands still laced together. Gray had no idea how it had all worked out, but his fuck you bouquet had somehow ended up getting him the one thing he’d wanted but had been too afraid to admit to.

From that day on, it became an inside joke between them to order the filthiest bouquets they could come up with for the other. Gray always made a point of including pink geraniums in the ones he ordered for Natsu.

An homage to the pink hair he adored and to his own stupidity, which had finally worked in his favor.

A/N: This marks my 100th Fairy Tail fanfic, which is something I am quite proud of. When I first started writing fanfic I never thought I’d get to 10 stories let alone 100. I hope you enjoy this one, I really wanted the 100th one to be gratsu since they are my OTP and my first love.

I want to thank everyone who has read my stories and enjoyed them and an even bigger thank you to the ones who actually let me know in some way! I really appreciate your support, it blows me away. Also thank you to all the friends I have made on this journey, I hope we’ll all be around a while longer!