#it's not a relationship if you don't say it

[bean-spring]

Hot take and not to be a killjoy or the shipping police but people treating Viktor or Jinx's aroace headcanons as if they were canon is not the revolutionary take people think it is.

Headcanons are always all right but we have to acknowledge that they are somehow damaging when they apply to stereotypes. It might not be the case for everyone but most of the time people unconsciously assume that disability/mental illness=asexuality. These headcanons erase the freedom of attraction from people who are already seen as unable to have sexual/romantic experiences/desires, when it's completely untrue and harmful.

You can headcanon Viktor and Jinx as aroace, but I have seen people changing their minds once Viktor is no longer disabled (s2 with all of his other forms) and Jinx is no longer as mentally ill (alternate universe Powder). And it speaks wonders of how people see these characters.

"I never thought about Jinx being able to feel romantic/sexual attraction until s2!" To believe she's actually only capable of that when she's not "damaged" is incredibly disturbing. Especially since Jinx has always had a bit of a flirty personality too.

"I've always seen Viktor as asexual, I don't know why!" That's fine. You can headcanon him as ace. But I believe there is a reason behind it, most of the time, if for some inexplicable reason the "vibes" of the disabled character are making you think he's ace.

I say all of this being aroaspec myself, by the way. Headcanon all you want but going to people's posts commenting how "it's weird for you that they have romantic/sexual plots when they're clearly aroace" is not a win at all. It's a headcanon, after all, and it should be treated as such, and that's fine. But it also is damaging to spread stereotypes like these.

Of course the disabled character is asexual. Of course the mentally ill character is aromantic. It's not as revolutionary as you might think, tbh.

Fandom is not activism and it's all right to have any headcanons you want BUT some of them are filled with damaging stuff and perhaps we should look into ourselves more before treating these assumptions as something canon.

[dmitriene]

cw: confusing relationship, authority, threesome, hints on rest of the taskforce.

lieutenant simon riley has a pet, a good, sweet girl, you are, made to be a soldier, ending up under a heavy wing of the man higher than you by rank, stoic, brooding, more of a mystery than a human, but nothing out of this things makes you rethink your position, you always come when he calls, trotting behind his back obediently, settling on your knees between his legs should he say so.

that's why you don't try to escape when simon invites someone else, in this sacred place, in your shared secret, while you're being stretched open to the point of your head turning cottony, drool seeping from your mouth, open to whimper out a plea for a little rest, but the only thing you hear is a growled permission for someone to enter, door creaking for only a couple of seconds, scraping over someone's too bigger body, the thud of boots suddenly buzzing in your eardrums.

captain price, a man that got his post not just because, but for his prophecy, for the ability to lead people, to know if something is happening, even if behind his back, and so he found out about you, found out what simon does at night, why someone's bed knocks against the wall, not allowing many to sleep, as a result, ending up here, rings of blue in his eyes thinning at the mere sight, of the sobbing moan you let out, drowned in the wet squelch from between your thighs.

you are your lieutenant's good pup, so when simon says that his captain wants to have a taste of the forbidden, you spread your shiny, puffy folds and present, letting john's bulk bear you heavily against the messy sheets, ramming into your dripping hole with rapid, quick pumps, broad hips and fat, swollen cock working in tandem, your mouth too occupied with another cock to sob weak cries of overstimulation, but price still apologizes, huffing in your ear that he's already close.

simon has a couple more people he can introduce to you, and seeing how john smoothes a palm over the crown of your head while you sleep, fucked out to the point of losing your consciousness, calloused hands wiping off the cum that spills out your gaping, swollen cunt, utterly gentle, he's sure boys would be as good to you too, but for now, you need a good time to rest.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[poguelandiarafe]

red carpet reveal | drew starkey

pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader

warnings - none

summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.

--------

the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.

"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.

you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."

he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.

as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.

the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.

"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."

he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.

"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"

you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.

"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.

her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."

yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.

before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.

"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.

drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.

his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."

"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.

you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.

"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.

before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.

when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.

"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."

relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.

"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."

you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."

[lostfracturess]

say it again — satoru gojo x f!reader

you've been married to satoru gojo for so long, but you've kept it quiet, so you can imagine his satisfaction at finally hearing you call him "husband" in public.

You've managed to keep your marriage to Satoru Gojo under wraps for nearly two year now. It isn't that you're ashamed—far from it.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers simply comes with complications, especially given his clan's tendency to meddle in everything.

So you both agreed to keep it quiet. No flashy announcements, no public displays, just you and him. Sure, it means wearing your ring on a chain under your clothes and careful planning for your living arrangements, but it's worth it for the peace and quiet.

That is, until you slip up at the most mundane possible moment.

You're both at an official appointment regarding some property documentation. The clerk has been droning on about paperwork when she asks about your relationship to Satoru for the forms.

"Oh, he's my husband," you reply absently, still scanning the documents in front of you.

The scratching of Satoru's pen stops abruptly. You look up to find him staring at you with the most ridiculous expression—somewhere between absolutely delighted and utterly self-satisfied.

"What was that?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

You blink, realizing what you've just said. "I mean—"

"No, no, say it again." His eyes are practically shining now. "What am I to you?"

"Satoru," you warn, very aware of the confused clerk watching your exchange.

"Come on," he says, leaning closer. "One more time. What am I?"

"We're in public," you hiss, but you can feel your cheeks warming under his gaze.

"Please?" He bats his eyelashes at you in that ridiculous way of his. "For your beloved husband?"

"You're impossible," you mutter, but you can't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Impossibly charming? Impossibly handsome? Impossibly perfect as your husband?"

The clerk clears her throat. "Should I... put down 'married' then?"

"Yes!" Satoru answers before you can. "Put down that I am this wonderful person's husband. Their spouse. Their better half. Their—"

"She gets it," you cut him off.

But Satoru isn't done. For the rest of the appointment, he manages to work the word "husband" into nearly every sentence. "As her husband, I think we should sign here." "My lovely spouse and I would like copies of that." "Do you need both myself and my better half to initial this?"

By the time you leave the office, you're ready to strangle him.

"You're enjoying this way too much," you say as you walk to the car.

"Can you blame me?" He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "It's not every day I get to hear you call me your husband in public. Usually it's all 'this is Satoru' or 'we're together' or my personal favorite, 'yes, I do unfortunately know him.'"

You roll your eyes, but can't help leaning into him. "You know why we keep it quiet."

"I know, I know. The clan would be insufferable." He presses a kiss to your temple. "But maybe we should tell them anyway? Can you imagine their faces when they find out we've been married this whole time?"

"They'll have our heads for this."

"Perhaps. But you have to admit, the thought is tempting. No more sneaking around, no more hiding that ring." He catches your hand, thumb brushing over where your ring should be. "I want everyone to know exactly who you are to me. And what I am to you. What was it again?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Come on," he coaxes, "just say it once more."

You pretend to consider it. "And what do I get out of this?"

"My eternal love and devotion?" He gives you a long look. "And I'll do the dishes for a week."

"You're supposed to do those anyway," you point out, but he's already pulling you closer, that insufferable smirk of his growing wider.

"Say it again, love," he says, and the way he looks at you then—eyes soft and full of adoration—makes your breath catch in your throat.

All your defenses melt away under that gaze, the one he reserves just for you, the one that makes you forget why you ever try to deny him anything.

"Husband," you breathe, and feel him tense slightly against you.

"Just like that," he whispers. "Though I prefer when you add my name to it."

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"That's what I do best," he says. "Besides, my darling wife, I think you secretly love it when I am."

The way he says 'wife' sends a shiver down your spine—something you know he notices from the satisfied look in his eyes. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly yours," he corrects, and despite his playful tone, there's something sincere in his gaze. "What do you say? Ready to scandalize some elders?"

Looking at him now, you can't remember why you ever wanted to keep this secret. "With you? Always."

He doesn't wait for more, just leans in and captures your lips with his, and you think maybe going public isn't such a terrible idea after all.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[caitlinsnicket]

jinx relationship headcanons

warnings: there's some nfsw but it's almost clinical, the usual dark-ish jinx stuff that always comes with her

a/n: guys don't worry she's alive and well here in my house she's actually taking a nap, we're gonna have dinner later

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

She often forgets to take care of herself: makeup stays on her face for days, her hair becomes matted and dirty at the ends, and her hands are dusty with chipped nail polish.

So you like to take care of her—helping her wash her hair (it really is a two-person job these days), gently washing her face, and making sure she's thoroughly clean before letting her go to bed or even hug you.

And in these moments, when she smells cleaner than she has in years and her hair feels so light she could fly, there are no voices, no buzzing, no sound. There’s just peace and this sense that she could actually have things like these—normal moments and casual actions with you. Most importantly, that she deserves them.

She's sitting in a loose white shirt, eyes closed, humming a song that's been stuck in her head for days. You're behind her, humming along as you brush her long locks. When you're done, you inch closer, placing your hands on her shoulders and start kissing her: first the top of her head, then her forehead when she leans to look at you, followed by her nose. Finally, you pepper kisses across her whole face before pulling back to grab something else for her hair.

She turns to look at you, her eyes dreamy and shiny, her heart beating fast. There’s a small smile on her face.

After that, you both cling to each other on her enormous bed. She switches positions every few moments—from laying her head on your chest, to being the small spoon, to the big spoon, to just fully lying on top of you and burying her face in your neck. She's unusually quiet in those moments, as if she's recharging.

Sometimes, she might talk about her feelings—the ones she doesn’t understand yet and the ones she knows are bad—and she’s thankful you don’t judge her.

Other times, she might just want to jump your bones, thinking it’s an equivalent “thank you” for taking care of her. It takes her a while to understand that she doesn’t have to pay you back for your affection.

There are also moments when you help build her back up: putting makeup on her face again or braiding her hair, carefully working through knots to avoid pulling too hard.

The biggest problem is her staring. You've tried talking her out of it so many times, but while you paint her face or fix her hair, she just stares at you, unblinking.

Sometimes, she starts frowning, taking all of you in. Occasionally, she'll pull back unintentionally, her chest too full of feelings she doesn’t yet understand.

You ask if she's okay, and she responds with a snarky comment, building up her walls again. But eventually, she relaxes into your touch, letting you continue.

It’s actually really hard for her to relax most of the time.

For example, she never fully lets go when the two of you are intimate. Sometimes, while you're eating her out, you catch her staring at you, laser-focused, as if waiting for you to hurt her. “Sorry, toots. Got lost again. But that feels good, so keep going,” she’ll say, laying back against the pillows as if nothing happened.

You used to get really worried and stop altogether, but those dissociative episodes have become fewer and fewer as she gets healthier.

Dancing is something you do almost daily, though it’s not really dancing at this point—it’s just rocking heads, jumping around, and holding each other while spinning.

On rare occasions, you’ll slow dance. She’ll put her feet on top of yours, and the two of you will barely move in circles in the middle of the bedroom. In those moments, she’s as happy as she can be, just existing with you.

You also love annoying her by whispering bad jokes in her ear until she stops whatever tinkering she’s doing because she’s too busy laughing.

Then, she’ll tickle you until you’re crying, cussing you out for saying all that nonsense to her.

[rinskazuu]

but baby, i don't wanna say goodbye ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ after a couple of lonesome weeks, the jjk men decide to finally break their silence to express how much they've been missing you. their attempt at groveling, yet again falls on deaf ears.

characters. ꨄ︎ fem!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, and sukuna (separate)

cw. ꨄ︎ angst, hurt/no comfort, swearing, pet names, groveling, slighty (?) ooc sukuna

notes. ꨄ︎ it seems i've confused a couple of people, so i'm going to write here that no, reader doesn't leave her kids. she leaves her partner. she doesn't break it off after one comment of "weakness." it's implied that this was the breaking point. if u feel like u'd forgive the characters that easily, that's ur interpretation, but i disagree with that, and last i checked, this is my smau. reminder that if u don't like what i post, scroll or block me!!!!!!

♪ song used. ꨄ︎ birds of a feather by billie eilish

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

end notes. ꨄ︎ i know this is a little long, but i also feel like it's necessary, rather than jumping back into the relationship so quickly.

want to join my taglist? all that's required is for u to let me know in the comments! WARNING: i do post for different fandoms

tags. ꨄ︎ @starlightanyaaa @totallygyomeiswife @colorfulfestkoala @kirahaley @tillaboo @jaegerstan222 @lunasolac @cherriee-ee

reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated! <3

jjk masterlist | general masterlist

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Spooky Call.

Spencer Reid x Hotchner!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend gets a call from you, the last thing he expects to hear is that you're being held at a police station for decorating your house.

Words: 2,2k.

TW: fem!reader. mention of haley's death, jack, crime, murder, blood (fake). reader was arrested (obviously). implication that the reader is wearing jeans and shirt (not very descriptive). reader is hotch's sister. established relationship. spencer being the standard. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This was the last fic of my october special, but I had problems and never posted it, so I had to change the plot a bit and here it is.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You’ve always hated asking for help. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was the belief that you could, and should, handle everything yourself. Life, however, had a cruel way of reminding you that it didn’t always work like that. Everyone needs help sometimes. At least, that’s what people—well-meaning friends, family, even your boyfriend—kept telling you. We live in a society; there are people who love you; they’d want to help, they’d say. Blah, blah, blah. The sentiment was kind, sure, but it never stuck with you. Not really.

Today, though, maybe you should’ve listened.

All you wanted was to throw your nephew a belated Halloween party. It wasn’t like you were planning anything crazy. Just a few decorations, some music, and a bit of creativity—how hard could it be? Nothing about it seemed complicated or dangerous, not at first. You’d seen your brother overwhelmed trying to keep things normal for Jack, and you figured this was something you could handle on your own. Something small but meaningful.

Somehow, things got out of your control, and now you were sitting in your boyfriend's car in the police station parking lot trying to organize your thoughts to explain to him how you had ended up arrested in the first place.

“This has a perfectly reasonable and not at all criminal explanation. I swear.” You began to speak as you noticed by the watch on his wrist that three minutes of complete silence had already passed.

It had only been a year since you started dating officially, and there were still some things you were afraid Spencer would see, especially the things that got you in trouble for doing stupid things. You'd liked him for a long time, even before he realized you could be more than just his friend and his boss's sister. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything and make him run away in terror, even though that didn't sound very much like him or his values.

“This better be a good explanation,” Reid finally said, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. He placed the car keys down in the cupholder and turned to look at you fully. “Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how decorating your house could get you arrested.”

You squirmed in your seat, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. “It’s…complicated,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. That was the only thing that kept repeating in your mind.

“I’m sure it is,” he finally said, his tone dry but still patient, his gaze never wavering.

You exhaled sharply, dragging your hands down your face. “Okay. So, I started with simple decorations—some cobwebs, pumpkins, and all the usual stuff. But it just…it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something big. Something really cool.”

He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

“So, I got this idea,” you said, hesitating. You could already feel the heat rising in your face. “I took a garbage bag, stuffed it with paper to make it look like a body, and then—” You paused, your voice dropping slightly. “Then I added some fake blood. A lot of fake blood.”

His eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” you admitted, wincing. “But it looked amazing! For like…five minutes.” You gestured vaguely toward the dashboard, trying to find the words to defend yourself. “I might have spilled some of the fake blood on the lawn. And…it might’ve looked a little too real.”

Too real, extra real.

“A little?” Spencer asked, incredulous. “You mean realistic enough to make the neighbors call the cops?”

You winced, expecting him to think you were ridiculous—or worse, stupid. But then, to your surprise, his lips quirked into a soft laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest when you saw the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Yeah, maybe you didn't want him to think you were weird, but you didn't like being laughed at either.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You are absolutely laughing,” you huffed, your pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress his laughter—mostly. His hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The warmth in his hazel eyes softened the sting of your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, though his lips still twitched with the ghost of a smile. “I really am, angel. But you have to admit, you went a little overboard with the ‘terrifying’ concept.”

And there it was, the kind of sweetness that had made you fall for him so hard. The kind you'd expect to receive without question after spending at least half an hour locked in a filthy cell.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, maybe. But in my head, it wasn’t that bad,” you said weakly. “It just…went a little wrong.”

“A little?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising again. “You got arrested. You scared half the neighborhood into thinking they’d stumbled onto a crime scene.”

“At least it wasn’t illegal!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I didn’t actually hurt anyone. I just made a mess. With fake blood.”

Spencer’s gaze dropped to your hands, where smears of red clung stubbornly to your skin. His eyes flicked to your clothes—your jeans, your shirt, both stained with dried streaks of crimson. A slow grin spread across his face.

“It wasn’t illegal, but now you look like you walked off the set of a slasher movie,” he said, his voice filled with teasing affection. “Here—and here.” He gestured to a streak of red on your shoulder, then another on your cheek.

You were about to protest when he suddenly leaned in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could say another word, his lips brushed softly against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that caught you off guard. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. Then, as if it had all been a slow, perfect dance, you melted into him. His lips were warm and tender, the kiss slow and sweet, like a quiet promise that everything, even in the chaos of your night, was going to be okay.

When he pulled back, your breath caught, your chest fluttering in that way only he could make you feel. His grin was wide, playful, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth, a tenderness that made your heart thud. You blinked up at him, still dazed from the warmth of his kiss.

“For the record,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips still dangerously close to yours, “I never thought you were a criminal. Just a little…overly enthusiastic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound bubbling out of you. “Overly enthusiastic,” you echoed, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And messy,” he added, his eyes twinkling as they lingered on the fake blood smeared across your face.

“Don’t push your luck, Dr. Reid,” you warned, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound melting into the quiet of the car. He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss that felt like a promise—quiet, tender, and full of unspoken reassurance. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the comfort of his presence.

As he pulled back, he studied you with that signature look—the one that always made you feel like he could see straight into your soul. His brow furrowed slightly, and you recognized that expression well: the one he wore when he was about to ask something important, when he wanted to understand you better. It was a look that never failed to make your heart flutter, even if it made you feel vulnerable.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his tone gentler now. “I get wanting to make the decorations amazing, but why was it so important? Why go all out to the point of, well…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his lips twitching again. “Fake crime scene levels of effort?”

You hesitated, his question hitting you like a wave. You knew the answer, but speaking it aloud felt heavier than you had anticipated. It was as though the words themselves had a weight you hadn’t been prepared to carry. You lowered your gaze, absently picking at the hem of your shirt as you fought to find the right words, your mind tangled in emotions that were hard to articulate.

Reid didn’t push, though. His silence was patient, waiting for you to open up at your own pace. It was one of the things you adored about him—the way he didn’t rush, didn’t demand. He just let you be, trusting you would share when you were ready.

Finally, you exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes, the vulnerability in your voice clear as you spoke. “It’s not just about the decorations,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Jack.”

His expression shifted immediately, his eyes softening with understanding but remaining focused as you continued.

“I just…” You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I want to be the perfect aunt for him, you know? Someone who makes things better, even if just for a little while. He’s been through so much—losing Hayley, seeing my brother juggle everything just to make sure Jack’s okay…” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your hands to steady yourself. “He’s only a kid. He deserves to feel happy and safe and…loved.”

Maybe that last word was too personal, and maybe your boyfriend noticed.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent offer of comfort. You took his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you enough to keep going.

“I know I can’t replace his mom, and I’d never try to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this party right—if I made it something really special—it could be a distraction. Something fun. Something he could look back on and smile about instead of just…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the words lodged in your throat.

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Instead of just remembering what he’s lost,” he finished for you, his voice soft and understanding.

You nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah.”

The car was quiet for a moment, the weight of your confession settling between you. Then Spencer shifted closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The tenderness in his touch made your chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said gently, his voice steady and sure. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize. Just by being there, by loving him the way you do…that’s what matters. Not decorations or parties or anything else.”

His words hit you squarely in the heart, and you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t want to mess it up and end up in a cell.”

Reid smiled softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he held your gaze. “You didn’t mess it up,” he said firmly. “Okay, maybe the decorations were a little unconventional,” he added with a playful glint in his eye. “But your heart was in the right place. And Jack knows that. He loves you and thinks you’re wonderful, just like I do.”

You felt your breath catch at his words, the warmth in his eyes making your cheeks flush despite everything. “You’ve really become good at this, you know,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The whole comforting and making me blushing thing.”

He let out a soft chuckle, giving your cheek a gentle tap with his thumb before pulling back slightly. “I might have read eleven books to brush up on a few things and be better,” he said, his tone light but not dismissive.

You chuckled, the sound lifting the tension that had been pulling at your chest. “Eleven books? You really went all in on this, huh?”

His arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing you closer, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you grounding and reassuring. “When it’s you,” he said softly, “I’d go even further than that.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the world ease off your shoulders. A quiet thought lingered in your mind, one you hadn’t been able to put into words until now. “But…sometimes, don’t you think I’m weird?” you asked, the vulnerability creeping in despite yourself.

Please say no.

“Weird? No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I think you’re perfect.” He paused for a moment, then added with a soft laugh, “And every day, I’m grateful you don’t think I’m weird either.”

You smiled, the knot in your chest loosening, the weight of uncertainty fading as his words settled in. “Guess we both can be a little weird then,” you said, the truth of it comforting you more than you expected.

He chuckled, the sound easy and light, as he pulled you a little closer, holding you in a way that spoke of quiet promises. “It’s perfect for me.”

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Mr. Crawling

Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.

Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you

Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!

SFW:

Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.

Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.

[archiveofvirtue]

doll!reader wants to take control during sex but rafe isn’t gonna submit that easily, so she has to find another way

cw ⎯⎯ nsfw, established relationship, making out, turning dom!rafe sub, forced submission (?) kinda, handcuffs, praise, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving)

“hngh..feels so good rafey.” you hummed, your hips continuing to roll against his still clothed cock, feeling him getting harder the more seconds pass. His lips were still attached to the sensitive skin on your neck as he sucked and licked on your sweet spot.

Rafe was leaning against the headboard, his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you closer, unable to get enough of you. Just as his lips began to trail down to your collarbone you pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile on your pink and glossy lips. He gazed up at you, his ocean blue eyes filled with lust and complete adoration.

“You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

he murmured, hands still clinging to your body.

“Good.” you whispered, leaning back down to nip at his jawline, his stubble slightly rough against your soft lips. As your kisses trailed down his neck, something in you shifted. You hadn’t planned for it to unfold like this, feeling kinda strange. Usually, Rafe was the one in charge, his dominant nature pulling you into submission so effortlessly that you never questioned it. You loved the way he took control, how he made you feel small and cared for. But what if you, just once, took the lead?

You weren’t sure where it all came from, but you also weren’t scared to find out. Maybe deep down you’d always wanted to see how far you could push him, to make him yours like he did to you. As your heart began to race you realized that the idea really turned you on, the wet spot on your panties only growing bigger.

Your fingers slid up his chest, brushing over his collarbone before settling at his neck. Your grip tightened slightly, feeling a bit nervous and just adding a playful pressure to start things off. Rafe tensed beneath you almost immediately, his hands shooting up to catch your wrists.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his tone sharp as his blue eyes locked on yours. You froze, and for a second you thought about chickening out, to just leave it to him, but then a new found courage came rushing through you. “Just trying something new..”

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, loosening his hold on your wrists but keeping them steady. "Doll, that's not really my thing. You know I'm not into—"

"Please," you interrupted, your voice a mixture of pleading and determination. Your hands moved to cup his face instead, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "Rafe, I promise l'll make you feel good.“

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh your words. Rafe wasn't used to giving up control—not to anyone, and most of the time not even to you. But the way you looked at him, your big, hopeful eyes and your sweet pout, made it impossible for him to say no. You were his doll, his everything, and despite his doubts, he didn't want to disappoint you.

"Fine," he finally gave in. "But don't push it."

Your face lit up with excitement, not thinking that he’d actually agree. "You won't regret it," you promised, lips brushing against his again as your hands adjusted their grip, softer this time, testing his limits. You could feel the tension in his body as Rafe fought the instinct to pull away, his breathing uneven under your touch.

"Relax," you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth, then his neck, your lips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Let me take care of you." A playful smirk was plastered on your lips as you placed your hands on Rafe's broad chest, gently pushing him back against the pillows. "Just trust me, okay?" You whispered, your tone dripping with sweetness, though your eyes sparkled with something malicious.

Rafe let you guide him, his hands resting loosely on your bare thighs. "Why do I feel like you're up to something?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion, though he couldn't help but smirk back at you.

"Close your eyes," you instructed, voice soft but firm. The blonde boy raised an eyebrow, clearly hesitant. "y/n-"

"Just do it," you interrupted, leaning down to kiss him again, silencing his protests. It was a kiss that left him momentarily dazed, and when you pulled back, he complied with a small groan, letting his eyes flutter closed.

Reaching over to your nightstand you slid the drawer open carefully, trying not to give yourself away as you pulled out the fluffy pink handcuffs you’d stashed there, finally finding an opportunity to use them. The rattling and soft clicking sounds as you adjusted them immediately made Rafe's brow furrow, even with his eyes shut.

"What's that?" he asked, his voice sharp, the hint of suspicion growing stronger.

"Shh," you cooed, leaning down to kiss him again, but this time he didn't fall for the distraction. His eyes snapped open just as you had clasped one of the cuffs around his wrist and secured it to the headboard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rafe protested, tugging his arm instinctively, but you were quicker. You grabbed his other wrist and clicked the second cuff into place before he could stop you. His eyes widened as he pulled at the restraints, the fluffy pink cuffs holding him securely against the headboard.

"Doll, what the fuck is this? Get ‘em off."

You sat back on his hips, earning a low grunt from him while twirling the tiny key between your fingers with a smug grin. "Mmm, I don't think so," you said, voice dripping with confidence. "You're not in charge here, Rafey. I am."

Rafe's breath hitched slightly, his jaw clenching as he looked up at you. There was a flicker of something in his expression— frustration, maybe even a little fear, but also an undeniable heat in his blue eyes as he registered your words. He was done for.

“y/n, I swear to God-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Swear all you want," you giggled sadistically, leaning down until your lips were just a breath away from his ear. "You're mine now, Cameron. And you're gonna sit there and take whatever I decide to give you." Your voice was unusually low, commanding, and laced with a sultry edge that made Rafe’s body react before his brain could catch up.

He squirmed beneath you, his face flushing as he realized just how much your words affected him. "Baby, come on," he said, his tone wavering between irritation and something softer, almost vulnerable. "This isn't funny."

"Oh, I'm not laughing," you replied, grin widening as you watched him tug at the cuffs, the muscles in his arms flexing uselessly. Your pussy clenching at the sight, he was so unbelievably hot like this. You reached out, brushing your fingers along his jawline.

"Baby.." he muttered, his voice strained as he tried to muster up some semblance of control. But the way you looked at him, the power you held—it made him feel small in a way that was both frustrating and oddly thriling, feeling the buldge in his boxers grow. The way you were acting drove him crazy, thoughts running wild with all possible scenarios. It was all so new to him and seeing you in control definitely flipped a switch inside of Rafe.

You fully ignored his complaints, the outline of his cock definitely was enough for you to keep going, your fingers dipped below the waistline of his boxers, pulling them down as his erection sprang free. you held his already leaking cock in your hand, running your thumb along the tip before licking a stripe all the way to up his base. you repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.

“fuck, baby..” rafe groaned, helplessly pulling at the handcuffs. you began to swirl your tongue around his cock, your hand wrapping around the inches that you couldn't get in your mouth. you continued to suck him off, pulling all the way off and then taking him back in. his grunts became louder, hips buckling up into you, while his tip hit the back of your throat.

Gagging and slurping sounds filled the four walls of your room, your saliva mixed with Rafe’s precum making your mouth move smoothly around him. You could tell he was close by the way he squirmed underneath you, tugging on the cuffs with all of his strength, completely trapped.

“You’re gonna cum for me, pretty boy?” You chuckled up at him, hands replacing your mouth for a second as he watched you with hazy eyes, fully emerging into submission, nodding hastily. “Y-yes..fuck.”

You began jerking him off at a fast and rough pace, your hand gliding along his thick shaft with ease as you watched him twitch, quickly wrapping your lips back around his tip. Just as your tongue tasted him again you felt Rafe release, white ropes of cum pouring down your throat as you moaned, your own arousal running down the insides of your thighs.

Pulling yourself off him with a plopping sound you smirked satisfied, licking the corner of your swollen lips while Rafes chest was raising heavily up and down, trying to catch his breath. You leaned over Rafe, your fingers working quickly to unlock the fluffy pink handcuffs that had kept him restrained for far longer than he'd anticipated—or admitted he'd tolerate. The click of the cuffs releasing was followed by a deep exhale from your boyfriend as he brought his arms down, rubbing his sore wrists briefly, his lips curving into a slow, devilish smile.

"Enjoy yourself, Doll?" he asked, his tone low and teasing, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it that sent a shiver through your body.

You were unable stop grinning triumphantly as you sat back on your heels. “Maybe I did," you teased, brushing your hair out of your face. "And maybe I'll do it again."

Rafe chuckled, sitting up slightly, his movements deliberate and slow, like a predator sizing up his prey. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice silky smooth, though his eyes burned with intensity. "You did a good job, I'll give you that. Might even let you take control more often... if you're lucky."

Your confidence flared at his words, lips parting to say something smug, but before you could get a word out, Rafe’s hands shot out, grabbing your waist and flipping you effortlessly onto your back. A surprised squeal escaped your lips as he hovered over you, his body pinning yours to the mattress in one swift motion.

"Rafe!" You gasped, your cheeks flushing as you squirmed beneath him, your earlier dominance quickly turning into nervous laughter. "What are you-"

"Shh," he interrupted, pressing a finger gently to your lips before leaning in closer, his nose brushing against yours.

“You really thought that you could just tie me up and have your way with me without consequences..?”

my first time writing for doll!reader and im already obsessed with her and rafe’s relationship 🎀

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @rafescokewhore @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @moremaybank @cherrygirlfriend @beausling @cosmicanakin

[deathbxnny]

hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!

Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader

Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.

Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.

"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.

"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.

》EKKO

He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.

It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.

"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.

"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.

The festival was going to be great, to say the least.

》JINX

You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.

Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.

And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

[eu-nicola]

one night

summary: one night with Max left a problem that you didn't talk to him about

warnings: pregnancy, and idk you tell me

word counter: 8005

author’s note: english is not my first language

The night was charged with a strange electricity that you didn't know how to explain. It was one of those improvised meetings in the house of a mutual friend, where laughter and talk mixed with the low sound of the music. You had known Max all your life, shared years of friendship, confidences and mutual support. He had always been your refuge, the kind of person who could read you with a single look.

That night, however, everything felt different.

Max was sitting next to you on the couch, closer than usual, and you couldn't help but notice every detail of his presence. The way his fingers played with the edge of his glass, the sound of his deep laughter when someone told an absurd joke, and how his eyes seemed to look for yours more than necessary. You tried to ignore it, attributing everything to your imagination, but it was useless. There was something there, something that both seemed to feel but did not want to admit.

The night advanced and the hours became more blurry. Most of the guests had left, leaving only a small group of close friends. But even they began to disappear, until you found yourself alone with Max in the dimly lit room.

"Another glass?" he offered you, getting up to fill your glass of wine.

"I don't know if I should," you replied, laughing softly, but you accepted anyway.

The conversation became more intimate, the topics more personal. They talked about the moments they had shared, how they had changed on time. At some point, Max leaned towards you, his expression more serious than usual.

"Have you ever wondered...?" he began, but left the phrase in the air.

"What?" you asked, feeling how your heart was racing.

He shook his head, as if he had decided not to say it. But his eyes told you something he couldn't put into words. Then it happened. A moment of courage - or madness - led you to close the distance between the two. The kiss was unexpected, intense, full of years of repressed feelings that finally found a way out.

The night continued between caresses and whispers, the outside world disappearing completely. For a few hours, everything felt like it was fine, as if this was what both had been waiting for without knowing it.

But the next morning, reality struck like a bucket of cold water. Max was in the kitchen when you woke up, his movements tense, avoiding your gaze. They barely spoke, an uncomfortable silence that looked nothing like the dynamics they had had for years.

"Last night..." he began, scratching the back of his neck, "it was... unexpected.

"Yes, it was," you admitted, pretending to feel a tranquility that you didn't feel.

They both knew that something had changed, something they couldn't ignore, but they didn't know how to handle it either. So, slowly, they began to move away. Messages that were previously constant became sporadic, and then non-existent. The calls stopped. His absence hurt, but you didn't know what to do about it.

Weeks later, while trying to move on with your life, you realized that something was not right. Morning sickness, constant fatigue, and the absence of your period led you to buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy, your hands shaking while you waited for the result.

Two lines. Positive.

Your mind was filled with questions, fears and doubts, but one thing was clear: the baby was Max's. And although your first instinct was to call him, reason prevailed. Max had been in a serious relationship with Kelly for a while, a woman who had a little daughter whom he had accepted as his own. You knew he was committed to that life, and you couldn't ruin it all.

You decided to keep quiet. You would raise your baby alone, without complicating anyone else's life. But deep down, you knew that this secret would not be easy to carry. The life you had shared with Max felt like a distant memory, a "and if" that would never have a response.

You refused to think too much about what it implied. The more you thought about it, the more you sank into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions: fear, sadness, pride, and a kind of determination that you didn't know you had. You knew that your life would change drastically, but you also knew that you didn't want Max to be part of this new chapter. Not because you didn't trust him, but because his life was already defined, and you didn't want to be the person who broke it to pieces.

The decision was clear to you: you needed space, distance, something that would help you start again without Max's shadow and his responsibilities. So, little by little, you began to prepare your escape.

First, you stopped frequenting the places where you knew you might meet him. You changed your phone number, blocked almost all mutual friends on your social networks and pretended that you needed "time for yourself" when someone asked about your disappearance. Weeks passed, and your pregnancy began to be harder to hide. You looked in the mirror every morning, noticing the changes in your body and reminding yourself why you were doing it.

One day, after a visit to the doctor, you sat in your car and made the final decision. You looked at the familiar streets around you, the places that had always been your home, and you knew it was time to leave them behind.

London. You had always wanted to live there, and now it seemed like the perfect opportunity to start over. Without telling anyone but your boss, you submitted your resignation, packed your things and booked a plane ticket. The plan was simple: you would settle in an apartment, work in your family's company as they had wanted so long, and raise your baby away from any possibility of Max discovering the truth.

When you arrived in London, the city greeted you with a cold and humid air, typical of early autumn. You moved to an apartment in a quiet area, with enough cafes and parks nearby to keep you busy.

Then you had disappeared from the digital radar for months. Your social networks, which used to be full of spontaneous photos, updates and everyday moments, had been left in absolute silence. You hadn't posted anything for a long time, and although you kept looking from time to time, reviewing the stories and publications of others, you made sure not to leave any traces of your presence. It was as if you had become a ghost that I watched from a distance.

People began to notice your absence. You knew it because, when reviewing your old posts, you found endless comments asking you where you were. "Everything okay?", "We miss you", "Why haven't you uploaded anything?" some said. Others simply left emojis, hearts, or words of support. But even when nostalgia for your previous life invaded you, you still didn't respond.

It wasn't exactly fear, but a feeling of wanting to protect this very personal stage. The pregnancy had been a roller coaster of emotions: illusion, uncertainty, and moments of loneliness that you fought remembering why you were doing this. Your little world in London had become your refuge, and sharing it with the rest of the world still didn't seem necessary to you.

But everything changed when the month came in which you decided to know the gender of your baby. The doctor's appointment was marked on your calendar, and you couldn't deny that you were excited and a little nervous. It was a strange feeling, as if knowing the gender made everything even more real, as if the baby that grew inside you began to take the form of a person you would soon meet.

The doctor's room was lit with a warm light, and the constant sound of the monitor filled the air. You lay back on the stretcher, taking a deep breath while the doctor applied the cold gel to your belly. The screen in front of you showed the blurred silhouette of your baby, and you felt that knot in your chest that always invaded you when you saw it.

"Do you want to know the gender?" the doctor asked, with a smile.

"Yes, please," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

The moment they told you was unforgettable. A child. A child who would soon become the center of your world. You smiled as tears accumulated in your eyes. For an instant, all the doubts, fears and difficult decisions vanished, replaced by pure and simple happiness.

That same afternoon, while you were walking back to your apartment, you decided it was time. For the first time in months, you felt the impulse to share this part of your life with others. It wasn't out of pressure, or to please anyone, but because you wanted to celebrate this little miracle you were waiting for.

You took a couple of pictures, wearing a white dress that highlighted your belly. The brightness of your skin, the pride in your eyes and the shy smile on your face were more than evident. You weren't the type to plan great revelations, but you knew you wanted to do something special.

You sat on the edge of your bed, carefully selecting the images and writing a description that reflected how you felt:

"After months of silence, I finally want to share the reason why my world changed. I'm expecting a beautiful baby, a boy who will arrive soon to light up my life. I can't explain in words the joy and love I feel knowing that I will be a mom. Thank you to everyone who has been asking about me and worrying in silence. I'm fine, better than I've been in a long time. 💙”

You took a breath before publishing it, hesitating for a moment. What would happen if this reached Max's ears? You knew I would do it but you pushed those thoughts away from your mind and pressed the publish button.

Within minutes, notifications began to flood your phone. Comments of surprise, love and congratulations appeared one after another. "Congratulations!", "You're going to be an amazing mom!", "A child? What a thrill!". The answer was overwhelming, and as you read them, you felt a warmth that enveloped you.

You allowed yoursellelless to smile again. For the first time in a long time, you let the world know a part of your new reality.

You didn't expect all that to go so far. After posting the news on your social networks, you felt a mixture of relief and vulnerability. You had shared your truth with the world, but you couldn't control who could see it, how they would react or what they would say behind your back.

Then Max's message arrived.

It was almost ten o'clock at night and you were on your couch, with your legs crossed and a bowl of ice cream in your hands, responding to the hundreds of comments that kept coming. Your phone vibrated, and when you looked at the notification, you felt how the air left your lungs.

It was a message from Max.

"Congratulations to you and the baby's father. I hope you are well. Really, I'm glad to know that you're happy."

You were frozen, reading and rereading the message as if you were unable to process it. How did he get your number? Who had told him? Why had I decided to write to you after so long? All these questions crowded into your mind, but none had an immediate answer.

You didn't know what to do. The most instinctive part of you wanted to ignore it, as if you had never seen the message. But another part, more emotional, I knew that would not be fair. He had been kind, had respected the distance, and had not hinted at anything that could complicate things.

You put the phone aside, squeezing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You had to answer, but what to say? You couldn't reveal the truth, that was clear. But you didn't want to sound cold or distant either. So you took your time, thinking about every word, every semicomon, before writing:

"Thank you, Max. I'm fine and so is the baby. I'm glad to hear from you."

You hit "send" before you could regret it, your heart beating hard while you waited, not knowing if he would answer. Every vibration of your phone made you jump, but the minutes passed, then the hours, and nothing else arrived.

Silence was a relief and torture at the same time. On the one hand, you were grateful that he didn't insist, that he didn't ask questions that you couldn't or didn't want to answer. But on the other hand, you wondered what he would be thinking, if he had really believed your version.

That night, before going to sleep, you thought about his message over and over again. It was so typical of Max: courteous, respectful, but letting out that closeness that had always existed between you. You knew him well enough to know that he must be curious, even if he didn't say it.

Max didn't write to you again. There were no more messages, calls or contact attempts. And although one part of you hoped it wasn't like that, another, more practical, deeply thanked him. The conversation had been at a neutral point, without complications or confrontations, exactly as you wanted.

The days passed with a strange tranquility. Since Max's message, you had not heard from him again, and life in London was on course. Your daily routines had become a kind of comfort: working from home, walking through nearby parks and mentally preparing for the arrival of your baby. But that calm was suddenly broken when your family called you with news that you did not expect.

You were lying on the couch, reviewing a list of things for the baby, when your mother called you. Her voice sounded excited, almost as if she was holding herst out so as not to scream with joy.

"We have something to tell you," he said, without even saying hello first.

"What happened?" you asked, anticipating that something important was coming.

“Your father and I have decided to go back to Monaco. The company is doing better than ever, and we believe it is the perfect time to return home. We've been away too long.”

The news hit you like a gust of cold air. Monaco Your lifelong home, the place where you had grown up, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you. But also the place you had left behind when you moved to London, in search of a new beginning.

"When do you plan to move?" you asked, trying to sound calmer than you felt.

"In a few weeks." We want you to come with us, of course. It's time for us to get back together, especially now that you're expecting a baby.

The proposal left you silent. You knew that your mother didn't say it with bad intentions; she was excited about the idea of having her first grandson around. But for you, the decision was not so simple. London had become your refuge, the place where you had managed to rebuild your life away from everything that tied you to your past. Returning would mean facing everything you had been avoiding, starting with Max.

Monaco was not a place where you could easily hide. Your family was well known, with important connections in the business and social circles of the city. If you came back, everyone would be behind you with questions. And even worse, there was a high probability that you would cross paths with Max during the Formula 1 break.

The following days were a storm of thoughts and emotions. On the one hand, the idea of being alone in London terrified you. With the baby on the way, you knew you would need support, and your family had always been by your side in important moments. But on the other hand, returning to Monaco meant opening a door that you had closed with so much effort.

You sat in front of the window of your small apartment one night, looking at the city lights while reflecting. You were mature enough not to worry about what people would say, but facing Max was something else. You knew each other, and you knew that his presence had an effect on you that you had never been able to fully control.

Finally, after days of thinking and rethinking, you made a decision.

You would return to Monaco.

It wouldn't be easy, but you were tired of living in fear. You didn't want your child to be born in a place where you felt isolated and vulnerable. Your family was important to you, and you knew you could trust them to support you, even if they didn't fully understand why you had made certain decisions.

The next day, you called your mother to give her the news.

"I'm going back with you," you said, your voice firm but with a touch of nervousness.

She couldn't hide her joy. He started talking about the plans for the trip, how they would organize everything so that you were comfortable. His enthusiasm made you smile, although a part of you was still restless.

The weeks passed in the blink of an eye. You packed your things, silently saying goodbye to London and the small shelter you had built there. When the day of your departure came, you looked for the last time at the streets that had become your temporary home, promising yourself that, whatever happens in Monaco, you would be strong.

The plane landed in Monaco at sunset, and the view of the city filled you with a mixture of nostalgia and nervousness. It was as if a part of you had never really left. But you knew the real test was yet to come. Max was there, somewhere, and sooner or later, you would have to face him.

It didn't take long for that, "The event" as your family used to say was something typical: a great meeting in one of the most exclusive lounges in Monaco, where the closest families could live together. Your parents had organized it as a kind of welcome to resume old connections after returning to the city. From the invitation, you knew that it would be inevitable to cross paths with people from the past, but you didn't think too much about who might be. There were so many names, so many familiar faces, that you assumed you could stay on the sidelines without drawing too much attention.

You dressed up with care that night, choosing a simple white dress that enhanced your figure. The fabric flowed gently over your growing belly, marking it delicately without being too flashy. You left your hair loose, with natural waves, and applied light makeup. You wanted to see yourself well, but without trying too hard.

When we arrived at the event, the room was already full. Laughter and conversations filled the air, and the children ran back and forth while the adults met in small groups. There was something familiar in the atmosphere, something that transported you to the years when you had also been a girl in those meetings. It was at one of these parties where you met Max.

Years ago...

You were a restless girl, full of curiosity and not afraid to talk to anyone, even if they were older than you. Max, on the other hand, was more reserved, even a little grumpy for his age. However, somehow, you found a way to break his serious facade. With your energetic personality, you managed to let my guard down. To everyone's surprise, he, who always seemed uncomfortable in these meetings, got along with you from the beginning. In those days, both became inseparable, exploring together every corner of these events while the adults chatted.

Returning to the present...

That memory made you smile a little, but it also made you feel a knot in your stomach. You tried to shake the nostalgia and focus on the night. You walked among the guests, chatting with those who approached you, most of them congratulating you on the pregnancy. Although you felt out of place, you tried to stay calm.

That's when you saw it.

Max was standing near one of the tables, dressed in a dark suit that sat him spotlessly. He was accompanied by Kelly, and her little daughter. The air seemed to disappear from your lungs instantly.

He also saw you.

For a second, your eyes met, and his expression changed. He seemed surprised, maybe even uncomfortable, but he immediately regained his composure. You, on the other hand, felt that your heart was beating so hard that it was hard for you to breathe. Instinctively, you turned on your heels, looking for a way out. You weren't ready to face him, even less with Kelly by his side.

But Max was faster.

Before you could disappear into the crowd, he and Kelly approached you. His every step made the panic inside you increase. You wanted to run, excuse yourself, anything to avoid that moment, but there was no escape.

"Hey!" Max said, with a smile that seemed contained, as if he was also dealing with something internal. His voice was warm, as if the months of silence between you had not existed. He pointed at Kelly and said—: “This is Kelly, my girlfriend.”

Kelly smiled politely and held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Max has told me that you two have been friends since you were little.

Your mind was going a thousand per hour, but you managed to force a smile and shake his hand.

"Yes, that's right. For... many years” you replied, striving to keep your voice stable.

Max, as if he wanted to relieve the tension, added with a more relaxed smile:

"It's amazing to see you here, and congratulations again, both for you and for the baby's father.”

The words "baby's father" echoed in your mind like an echo. Kelly also congratulated you, and although there was nothing in his words that sounded malicious, you felt that your whole body tensed up.

"Thank you," you managed to say, nodding with a shy smile.

You couldn't take it anymore. You made up the first excuse you could think of.

"Excuse me, I need to go get something to drink." It has been a pleasure to see you.

Before they could say anything else, you walked away with quick steps, feeling the eyes of both of them fixed on your back. You didn't stop until you were far away, in a corner of the living room where you could catch your breath.

Your heart kept beating hard, and your hands were shaking. You had managed to get out of that conversation, but the meeting had removed all the emotions you had tried to bury. Max was there, and although you hadn't admitted it out loud, seeing him had made everything feel real again.

The night continued as a blur of superficial conversations and forced laughter. Every time Max and his little family appeared in your line of sight, you found a way to dodge them, pretending that someone else required your attention. You kept busy talking to acquaintances, checking your phone and serving yourself lemon water in an attempt to distract yourself. All in vain. His presence weighed like a cloud on you, a constant that you could not ignore even if you tried.

As soon as you finished pretending to be interested in a business conversation, you decided you needed a break. The bustle of the living room began to suffocate you, and the fresh air outside seemed like the perfect solution. You walked towards the gardens, feeling the relief of the silence as you left the music and laughter behind.

The sky of Monaco was clear, and the city lights were reflected in the nearby water. You recharged against a railing, closing your eyes and letting the breeze caress your face. For a moment, the world seemed calmer, less complicated.

Until you heard his voice behind you.

"It's not very typical of you to escape from the party."

You turned quickly, with your heart racing. Max was there, with his hands in his pockets and an expression that you didn't know how to interpret. He seemed relaxed, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel that he had come with a purpose.

"I didn't escape. I just needed a little air” you replied, trying to sound casual while your hands fiddled with the railing.

Max approached, leaving enough space between you, but enough to make his presence impossible to ignore.

"It was nice to see you today. I didn't expect to find you here," he said, his words loaded with something you couldn't define.

"I say the same," you replied, looking at the horizon instead of him.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke again.

"Your family must be excited about the baby and his father too. I'm sure they're spoiling you a lot.”

You smiled slightly, although his tone made you feel a pang in your chest. You decided it was better to be honest before he continued to assume things.

"They are happy, yes. But my baby doesn't have a father.”

Max seemed to stop in his tracks. His expression changed, and for a moment he seemed to be looking for the right words.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know."

You looked at him then, meeting his look that seemed sincerely hurt.

"Don't do it," you told him, your tone firm but without hardness. “Don't be regretted. I'm happy, Max. My family is happy. I can't ask for more. This child will be surrounded by love, and that's all that matters.”

Max nodded slowly, but his eyes continued to reflect something else, something he didn't say out loud.

"I always thought you would be an incredible mom," he said after a moment, with a small smile.

You forced yourself to smile too, although his comment stirred you inside. You wanted to change the subject, prevent the conversation from taking a more emotional turn, but Max was the one who spoke first.

"I want to be in your life again."

His words were like a direct blow to the chest. You looked at him, stunned, trying to understand exactly what he meant.

"Max..." you started, but he raised a hand, interrupting you.

"I'm not saying that I'm going to get into something that doesn't belong to me. I just... I want to be part of your life again, as we were before. I could be a good uncle for that little one," he added, with a smile that seemed sincere, although also somewhat sad.

That was too much for you. His words, his tone, the way he seemed so sure of wanting to be close but at the same time setting limits... It was a reminder of what had been and what it could not be. You felt your heart tighten, as if the air became denser.

"I would love to have you back in my life, Max. You've always been a good friend” you managed to say, although it was hard for you to keep your voice stable.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on yours for an eternal second. Then he looked towards the house, as if something was calling him back.

"I'm glad to hear it. See you inside," he said softly, before turning around and walking towards the living room.

You stayed there, watching how his figure disappeared between the lights of the party. You felt a mixture of emotions that you couldn't fully decipher. There was something reassuring in knowing that he wanted to be in your life, but also something deeply painful in hearing the words "good friend" come out of his lips.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lump in your throat. You knew that the best thing was to return too, but before you needed a few more minutes to pull yourself together.

When the night finally came to an end, and while you were helping your mother say goodbye to the last guests, you felt the exhaustion creep into every fiber of your body. Between smiles, short conversations and the unexpected meeting with Max, everything had been a whirlwind of emotions. You went up to your room, closing the door behind you and letting out a long sigh. You had succeeded. You had survived that night without collapsing, although the cracks in your facade were deeper than you wanted to admit.

You took off your dress carefully, letting the fresh air ease your skin. You put on a comfortable nightgown and got rid of the makeup with slow movements. Every step of your nightly routine was an attempt to distract you from the only thing that really occupied your mind: Max. The conversation outside, his insistence on wanting to be back in your life, his words loaded with a meaning that you refused to interpret... Everything kept spinning in your head.

When you got into bed, you took your phone out of habit, checking notifications and messages before going to sleep. That's when you saw it. A message from Max.

Max: "Good night. I liked seeing you tonight."

Your heart skipped a beat when you read it. You didn't expect me to write to you, not after what they had talked about. You thought about ignoring him, but you knew you couldn't. Something inside you drove you to respond.

You: "Simely. It was nice to see you."

You sent the message before your mind could stop you, and just a few seconds later his answer came.

Max: "I don't know if this sounds weird, but I feel like I've missed you more than I thought."

You bit your lip, your fingers floating on the screen as you decided what to say. Finally you wrote:

You: "It doesn't sound weird. I've missed you too."

The conversation flowed with a naturalness that baffled you. Talking to him was like returning to something comfortable and familiar, as if the months of distance had not existed. They talked about trivial things at the beginning: how he was, how you were, small anecdotes of the event that had occurred while you were escaping to the garden. But then he wrote something that made you stop.

Max: "We should have a coffee or something. Really catch up."

Your first reaction was to doubt. You knew it wasn't a good idea. Seeing him was to risk letting your guard down, saying something you shouldn't have, opening doors that you had closed for a reason. But, at the same time, the idea excited you. You wanted to see it. I wanted to see it.

"I'd love to," you finally wrote, almost with fear.

Almost instantly came his answer:

Max: "Tomorrow? I have something in the afternoon, but I'm free at night."

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. You knew you shouldn't accept, but your fingers were already writing.

You: "It's okay. Tomorrow night."

They quickly confirmed it, deciding the place and time, and after a few more messages, he wrote:

Max: "Sleep well. See you tomorrow."

"You too," you replied, even though you knew that sleeping was the last thing you would do. You put the phone aside, but your mind was still at full speed.

As you settled in bed, you looked at the ceiling with a sigh. You had done something you knew you shouldn't have done, and the anxiety of what could happen consumed you. But, at the same time, a small spark of emotion lit up inside you.

The idea of seeing him, of talking to him face to face after all, made you feel like you were playing with fire. And yet, you found yourself counting the hours for the next day.

The next morning the day began in a rather routine way, although you felt a slight tingling in your stomach when you remembered your plan for later. After a light breakfast, you made sure to review your to-do list, and among them was the doctor's appointment. Although all the previous reviews had gone well, it always gave you a little anxiety to attend. You wanted to make sure that your baby was perfect, that everything went as it should.

You put on a loose and comfortable dress, choosing a pastel shade that highlighted the shine that lately your pregnancy had given to your skin. You looked in the mirror quickly before leaving, noticing your already noticeably rounded belly. You had reached that point in pregnancy where it was impossible to hide it, and although you felt proud, there were times when that reality made you think about everything that was to come.

The clinic was calm when you arrived. After signing some papers and waiting a few minutes in the room, they called you to go to the doctor. She was a kind woman, someone you fully trusted and with whom you had developed a good relationship since you arrived in Monaco.

You lay down on the stretcher while they did the routine ultrasound. The screen lit up with the image of your baby, and as always, your eyes filled with tears of pure emotion when you saw it.

"Everything looks perfect," said the doctor, smiling as she checked the measurements and heartbeat of the little one. “He is growing well and has a lot of energy, as always. Have you felt good?”

You nodded.

"Yes, although he's been a little restless today. I don't know if it's me or him.”

The doctor laughed softly.

"Probably a little bit of both. They feel our emotions, did you know? If you're anxious or nervous, he feels it too.”

You were thoughtful with that comment. It was true that you had been nervous since you woke up. The idea of seeing Max again, of sitting in front of him after so long, had you in a constant state of anticipation.

"I guess he's right. Today I have... an important day.”

You didn't go into details, but she gave you an understanding look.

"Well, try to relax." He's fine, you're fine. Enjoy your day and make sure you rest.

When you left the clinic, the mid-morning sun greeted you warmly, but you still felt some restlessness in your chest. You knew there was no reason to worry about the baby, but the conversation with the doctor left you thinking. Your little one was connected to you in a way that no one else could be, and his well-being was completely up to you.

The rest of the day was spent in a blur of domestic activities and small errands, but your mind always returned to Max. You wondered what it would be like to see him again, this time in a more intimate environment. Would he be nervous like you? Would it still be as easy to talk to him as it had been last night?

As the afternoon progressed, you noticed that your baby kept moving. Every time you tried to sit down for a moment to breathe, he kicked or settled down, as if trying to get your attention.

"What's wrong, little one?" you murmured, placing a hand on your belly. “Are you also nervous about tonight?”

The thought made you smile, although you felt a knot in your stomach. You caressed your belly with gentle movements, trying to calm it down and calm yourself down in the process.

You sighed as you looked at the clock. Every minute that passed brought you closer to the meeting, and although you were nervous, a part of you couldn't wait.

The afternoon was sliding into the night, and with each passing minute, you felt how anxiety was taking over you. You repeated to yourself over and over again that everything would be fine, that there was nothing to fear, that it was only Max. Max, your lifelong friend. Max, who was now much more complicated than you had ever imagined.

When it was time to get ready, you went into the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. There was something different about you, a mixture of emotion and tension that made you feel like you were about to cross an invisible line. The dress you chose was simple but elegant, a dark blue tone that highlighted your skin and concealed your belly. You left your hair loose, falling in soft waves on your shoulders. The makeup, just enough to give a touch of color to your cheeks and highlight your eyes. You wanted to look good, but without looking like you had tried too hard.

While you were putting on the last touches, your phone vibrated on the table. You took it with slightly trembling hands and read the message.

"I'm outside. I'll wait for you."

You toom a deep breath before answering.

"Ok."

You picked up your bag, taking one last look at your reflection before leaving the room. You went down the stairs calmly, although your heart was beating hard in your chest. When he opened the front door, there he was. Max Verstappen, waiting for you next to his car with a smile that, despite all the time that had passed, was still the same you remembered.

"Hello," he said softly, his eyes running over you for a moment before returning to your face. “You look... good.”

You smiled a little shyly.

"Thank you. You too”

Max was dressed casually but flawlessly, a dark shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. I had always had that ability to look good without much effort. He opened the car door for you and, once you were inside, he circled the car and sat behind the wheel.

The journey was comfortable, although full of silences that spoke more than words. Through the reflection in the window, you watched him sideways. His firm hands on the steering wheel, the way he concentrated on the road, everything was so familiar and at the same time so distant.

Finally, they arrived at a small secluded, discreet and cozy restaurant, a place that Max had chosen carefully to avoid curious glances. Upon entering, you were greeted by a warm atmosphere, dim lights and tables separated enough to ensure privacy.

"It's a quiet place," he said while helping you sit down. “I thought we would be more comfortable here.”

You nodded, grateful for your consideration.

"It's perfect."

You both asked for dinner, and for a few minutes, the sound of the cutlery and the soft background music filled the space. But soon, the conversation began to flow.

"So..." you said, breaking the ice. “How is everything? Life, the team, your relationship?”

Max took a sip from his glass before answering.

"Life... is fine. Busy, as always. The team is doing well, although this year has been more complicated than I expected. And Kelly...” he paused briefly. “We're fine. Things are stable, which is good for me, for P.”

He mentioned his girlfriend and stepdaughter naturally, but you couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest. You forced yoursellsel on your smile.

"I'm glad to hear that. You know I've always wanted you to be happy.”

Max looked at you with an expression that seemed to contain more than he was willing to say.

"And you?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. “Why did you disappear like that? One day you were here, and the next, you were gone. Without a word.”

You tensed up a little in your chair, fiddling with the edge of your glass. You had known that question would come, but you were not completely prepared to answer it.

"It was something... I needed to do," you finally said, choosing your words carefully. “London was an opportunity to start again. And... I didn't want to complicate anyone's life.”

Max frowned slightly, his eyes looking for yours.

"Complicate life for whom? To me?”

The air seemed to become denser between you. You avoided his gaze, concentrating on the napkin that you now held between your fingers.

"You already had many things in your life. You didn't need... more complications.”

Max was silent for a moment, but his eyes didn't turn away from you.

"We were always friends, remember? No matter what happened... that doesn't change.”

The sincerity in his voice disarmed you, and for a moment, you felt that the weight of the last few months was about to collapse on you. But you stood firm, smiling softly.

"I know. And I'm glad we can talk like this, like before.”

The conversation continued, returning to lighter topics: childhood memories, career anecdotes, moments they shared before everything got complicated. But, deep down, they both knew that there were things that remained unsaid.

When dinner ended, they both left the restaurant, the night in Monaco unfolded calm and cool, with a gentle breeze that caressed your skin. You felt strangely light, despite everything that dinner had moved in you. You thought the night had come to an end, but Max, standing next to you in front of the car, seemed to hesitate before saying goodbye.

"Are you tired?" he asked, with a look that contained more than what his words said. “Because... if you're not, we could go for a walk.”

You were surprised by the invitation, but a part of you, the one that was still looking for any excuse to prolong the moment, did not hesitate to answer.

"No, I'm not tired. I would love to walk a little.”

Max smiled, a soft smile that lit up his face for a moment. He walked by your side, and soon they both left the restaurant behind and went into the quietest streets of the city. The night in Monaco was a spectacle in itself, with the lights reflected in the sea, the distant sound of laughter and music, and the constant murmur of the nightlife that unfolded around it. But at that moment, nothing seemed to matter more than the presence of the other.

The silence between you was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt almost like a conversation in itself, a pause that allowed both of them to think about everything that had been left unsaid for so long. They walked at the same pace, their steps synchronized, and from time to time your fingers brushed his, which caused a small chill that ran through your body.

Finally, it was Max who broke the silence. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he feared to alter the stillness of the night.

"I like walking with you at night," he said, with a sincerity that took you by surprise. His eyes looked at you sideways, looking for your reaction.

Your heart turned upside down, and you bit your lip before answering, allowing a soft smile to form on your lips.

"I like it too. I enjoy it.”

And you meant it. There was something intimate at that moment, a connection that didn't need words. The world seemed to have reduced to you two, walking together under the dim lights of Monaco. The breeze was fiddling with your hair, and Max noticed it, because his eyes stopped a second longer on you, before looking away.

Both continued walking in silence for a few more minutes, until both of you reached a small viewpoint that overlooked the port. The lights of the yachts and the soft waves of the water created an almost magical atmosphere. You leaned on the railing, contemplating the landscape, but aware that Max had come closer, until he was a few centimeters from you.

"It's beautiful," you commented, trying to stay calm, although your heart was beating hard.

"It is..." he replied, but when you looked up, you realized that he was not looking at the landscape. He was looking at you.

The atmosphere became denser, loaded with electricity that seemed to envelop them. You felt trapped between the desire to maintain that closeness and the need to step back, to protect yourself from what that moment could mean. But you didn't move.

Max leaned slightly forward, resting his arms on the railing next to yours. His fingers brushed yours, and this time he didn't move away. Neither do you.

"I missed this," he murmured, with a voice so low that you barely heard him. “I missed being with you.”

His words disarmed you. You felt a lump in your throat, but you tried to stay calm.

"Me too..." you admitted, almost in a whisper. I missed this, you.

Both stayed like this, in silence, letting the moment last, feeling the closeness of the other. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you had saved for months, but you held in. You didn't want to ruin it. Not yet.

Max turned his face towards you, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. His blue eyes, intense and full of contained emotions, met yours. The world around him disappeared, and all that existed was that look, that instant in which the past, the present and the future seemed to collide.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, with a softness that almost made you lose your balance.

Your breathing quickened slightly, and without looking away, you replied:

"To me too."

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't uncomfortable or empty.

But before either of them could do or say anything else, Max took a step back, breaking the spell.

"We should go back," he said, his voice a little more controlled. “I don't want you to get too tired.”

You nodded, grateful and at the same time disappointed. Both began to walk back, this time more slowly, as if prolonging that walk could change something.

When both got to the car, Max stopped before opening the door for you. For a moment, he seemed to doubt, as if he was about to say something important. But instead, he just smiled.

"Thank you for tonight. I needed.”

"Yeah. Me too..." you murmured. “Thank u.”

He leaned slightly, as if he was going to say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, but he stopped halfway. Instead, his fingers gently brushed your hand before opening the door. You got into the car, still feeling the warmth of his touch, and when he left you at home, they both said goodbye with a smile that said more than words could express.

That night, while you were lying in your bed, with the breeze of Monaco coming in through the window, you thought about every detail of that walk. In his gaze, in his words, in the touch of his fingers. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to dream about what could have been... and what it could still be.

[xinganhao]

🔄 svt x reverse tropes.

✩ reversal of popular tropes, most of which are based on this post! established relationships, breakups, angst [if you squint], crack -ish, fluff, cussing. drabbles under the cut.

🔄 uno reverse card .ᐟ

seungcheol & mafia boss kidnaps you accidentally kidnapping the mafia boss.

seungcheol isn't really sure how he ended up in this situation. the cool metal of the chains feel foreign on his ankles, and he briefly considers trying to break through them himself. what kind of 'kidnapper' lost the key to their cuffs? he can only watch, exasperated, as you google how to pick a lock with a hairpin. you're sweating buckets. he finds it just a teensy bit amusing. "don't worry. i'll spare your life," he drawls as he leans back to watch you fret. "but only if you get me out in fifteen minutes. otherwise… well. that's debatable."

jeonghan & fake relationship breakup.

what was supposed to be an april fool's prank has ended the relationship that jeonghan never thought he'd be without. that isn't to say he hated you. god, no. if anything, he's convinced he'll love you to his grave. it's just— a different kind of love, he concedes, as the two of you hold hands underneath the table. mingyu jeers something about the breakup being a joke, and jeonghan shakes his head. "it's as real as they come," he announces. the two of you glance at each other when nobody's looking. it'll be your little secret, it seems.

joshua & marriage divorce of convenience.

it's a question of assets and inheritance, the whole reason why you and joshua have to 'divorce' in the first place. he's been incredibly vocal about his distaste— the thought of being away for you for ever a moment is ludicrous— but he'll grin and bear it, if it means the two of you can live a cushy life when you retire. still, he frowns as you sign off on the papers. he focuses on the promise of a second wedding. "i want a hundred guests." he wraps his arms around you from behind. "and a chocolate fondue. please."

junhui & there's only one bed there's too many beds.

how the hell did jun miss the fact that the listing said 7 beds, not 1? he'd tried so hard to orchestrate a little forced proximity moment with you, only to fail spectacularly. he lays on the top bunk of the double deck, staring at the ceiling, as he contemplates his life choices. you're still giggling in the bunk below him. "oh, shut up," he grumbles, though there's a hint of a fond grin on his face. maybe tomorrow night, he thinks, he'll recommend a horror movie. that way, you might ignore all the other beds and crawl into his.

soonyoung & miscommunication too much communication.

it's a little too hard to keep up with the string of confessions bursting out of soonyoung. the whiplash is dizzying, how he's going from talking about the way he felt when he first saw you, the crush that's been festering for weeks, the dream he had of you last night— and, oh, now he's on his knees. "soonyoung, please get up," you urge, horrified, but he stays on the ground. "isn't honesty the best policy?" he asks, eyes blown wide with overwhelming sincerity as he looks up at you. "c'mon, give me a shot! please, please, please!"

wonwoo & 'academic' rivals (except you're both teachers).

there's no way that you're the top class of the month. wonwoo has half a mind to march up to the principal's office and demand a recount. his eyes narrow in response to your smug smile— one that he'll wipe off your face if his life depends on it. "don't get cocky," he warns you below his breath. in his mind, he's already envisioning how he and his students can knock you off the leader board. this was not going to stand. "i'll get you next time," he says, and it sounds more like a threat than a challenge.

jihoon & fake dating everyone is convinced we're not dating.

this will definitely prove it, jihoon thinks to himself as he leans in to kiss you in lieu of a greeting. you let out a surprised hum against his lips but you melt right against him, your hand resting over his chest. for a moment, a stunned sort of silence befalls the room. jihoon pulls away with a dazed, almost smug sort of grin, only for his smile to falter when soonyoung loudly says, "wow. you guys are, like, dedicated to this bit, huh?" jihoon is convinced he's going to throw himself out of a window if this keeps happening.

seokmin & mean guy who's only nice to you nice guy who's only mean to you.

seokmin doesn't know how to explain it, but you bring out the worst in him. everything about your existence seems to just vex him, from your pretty smile to your bright laugh. he's generous in doling out grins and pulling out the charm for everyone else; when you're around, though, it takes a tremendous amount of effort to be normal. you're feet away from him, interacting with someone else, and it's grinds on his nerves. in the corner of his eye, he sees you giggle; something crawls underneath his skin. so annoying, he thinks. laughing with someone that isn't me.

mingyu & cuddling for warmth too warm to cuddle.

it's been four days, twelve hours, and twenty-six minutes since mingyu last cuddled with you. the two of you are sweating right into your sheets, the infertile summer heat made doubly unbearable with the fact the air conditioner is busted. "can't we just cuddle for a little bit?" mingyu begs, his sleeveless shirt clinging to his skin with every small move. he shifts on the bed to glance at you, a pout firmly set on his handsome face. "i'll run us both an ice bath afterwards, i swear. but i'll die if i don't get to hold you tonight, love."

minghao & fake amnesia.

"except for the amnesia?!" "i know! i know!" minghao screeches, uncharacteristically panicked as he meets junhui's disbelieving gaze. "i— i panicked okay?! it's not my best work!" minghao hadn't known what to say, really. it wasn't everyday that you ran into the one who got away while grocery shopping. he'll be damned if he's dragged right back down under, so he had let out a little white lie of having memory loss. "god," minghao groans, running a hand over his face in frustration. "i need to start googling what webmd has to say about amnesia…"

seungkwan & dating your best friend's enemy's sibling.

this is seungkwan's favorite place in the world: the railing of your balcony, waiting for you to look his way. it might be easier to date if your brother didn't hate his guts, but seungkwan's more than willing to make a couple of concessions. you've made a romantic out of him, it seems, because now he can only think of shakespeare whenever you come to sneak him into you room. the sight of you puts an easy, almost giddy grin on his face. "my lady," he coos, quoting romeo and juliet because he knows it will make you laugh. "my love."

vernon & love hate at first sight.

vernon has never been a believer in reincarnation. that is, until he met you. he's convinced the two of you have met in some past life— how else to explain the immediate hatred he has for you, the moment he laid his eyes on you? it's an undeniable, searing kind of loathing, almost laughable in its intensity. no person should be allowed to feel this passionately about someone. and yet here he is, his typically cool demeanor cracking like ice in the face of your fire. you have him melting for you, in more ways than one.

chan & true love's hate's kiss.

"let's make this quick," chan snipes, even though he's in no position to be making demands when he's the one calling in a favor. you shoot him a withering glare but you comply all the same, because he promised he'd owe you absolutely anything after this. a stupid true hate's kiss. chan squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the worst smooch in the world— only to be jolted by the soft press of your mouth against his. you taste… sweet. huh. when you pull back, your part of the deal fulfilled, chan instinctively leans forward, chasing your lips.

[kinardsevan]

What is your opinion on Tommy coming back or not? And in they case we see him again, do you think it’ll be just for closure (ex: Abby in season 3) or maybe for a BuckTommy second chance?

fun fact: i was considering doing an entire breakdown with a bunch of Oliver's interviews from the start of this arc until now to point to my opinion:

Tommy is coming back. The romcom theme is still in effect, and we're only about midway through the 3rd act.

Long story short (and without sources right now), I think that the interviews were actuallly pointing in this direction with the wording for a hot second. We have OS telling us that he thinks the best relationships have a "will they, won't they" bit where the audience and the characters are pining. We've seen this play out on the show. And we also have to remember that Oli knew during this interview that the breakup was coming. We also have the interview (I believe it was the Decider one I linked last week) where he mentions choosing to fight for the relationship or not. I feel like a lot of people have taken the context of that and twisted it into "they didn't do it right away, so they're not going to". Except, there's ANOTHER quote of relevance, which is Oliver talking about how Buck's queerness isn't tied to Tommy or Eddie, and only to himself.

Obviously, there have been things said since 806 that would point towards me being delulu, except, here's the issue: TM, OS and LFJr are NOT going to tell us that Tommy is coming back if that's the intention. It would spoil the surprise of it all, and the win of it all. What fun is there in that? What TM has said is that Tommy is Buck's romantic past but that doesn't mean he won't turn up again in the future (all relevant and true facts which do not shut down a reconciliation). Lou never out-and-out said he was done with the show. He's said time and time again that he wants to come back. TM has mentioned Tommy coming around again. OS literally said in an interview "they may run into each other on scene and have it be awkward".

Now obviously we don't actually have the full story with how things went down and the show decided to go with splitting the boys up. I think the fact that Lou has called out the bullying but says he wants to come back suggests that it wasn't him saying it was too much. I have two theories that could honestly run concurrent with one another:

Evan and Tommy break up in 806 at the end of the episode. With 911 having 18 episode seasons, this quite literally only makes up the first third of the season. It set up the beginning of the year for us. We're now two episodes into the second part of the season with a pretty clear idea of where the next three will go and suggestions (by fans, nothing official) that the "soonest" we could see LFJr again is 812. This is reasonable, as it would be the end of the middle of the season. Knowing that TM has suggested he might do a multi-episode season finale, pushing LFJr back into the show in 812 (or even the end of 811 if we go with my theory that Eddie could possibly leave around this time and Tommy helps them pack up/his and Buck's first time spending time around each other again), there would still likely be something around this time period that would be around when they would open the doors to this. As it is, we know that 809 and 810 go together, and then we'd have 811 to really flesh out the end of Buck's fling. I think there's even more possibility of LFJr being in this episode as well because if the plan is to bring them back together (which everything has been suggested so far ON screen in terms of keeping Tommy "in" the story), three-episode arc gives us several things: a. it allows the show to make the point that Buck's queerness is not intrinsically attached to Tommy; that his interest in men is as equal as he know his interest in women is. b. it gives them the ability to also show that his feelings for Tommy are not based in Tommy being his "first", or Evan needing to "discover" more about himself. They're in love with each other, and the show has given us the pieces for that. LFJr has acknowledged it in an interview, Tommy loves Buck. We also know that Tommy's line to Evan is "you'd end up breaking my heart, and I don't think I could deal with that". When I hear that sentence, what I'm actually hearing is "I'm already in love with you, and if I let myself fall more in love with you by being with you every day all the time and this ends, I won't survive it". By relation, we have Josh ask Buck if he loves Tommy and Buck waffles, but I think this has more to do with his lack of understanding of what a healthy love is in a relationship, given his past relationships. He never got to tell Abby. Ali left. and saying I love you to Taylor wasn't about the core of actually being in love with her, which I think is another important piece for BuckTommy: they don't just love each other, they're in love with each other. Still, sometimes it's hard to quantify that feeling, and I think (as I've referenced before), for Evan it was easier to ask Tommy to share a living space with him than to share how he feels about him because historically, things haven't worked out well for him when he's been in love outwardly. Further, the questions Josh asks Evan are directly correlated with loving someone, and Evan answers yes to all of them. (I don't think I need to add this, but he also sees a future with Tommy, talks about being engaged or married. He's serious about Tommy in a way he never has been before.)

There's also the theory that the breakup happened because of scheduling conflicts. Now obviously the show could've found other ways to work around LFJr's scheduling issues by having Tommy go on a trip or what-have-you, but let's remember OTHER things that have been said by OS in prior interviews: a. back in June, he did an interview where he stated that he wanted and hoped that BuckTommy would go through issues that couples normally go through in their first year together. He wanted normal issues. This storyline IS normal. b. he didn't want to repeat Tarlos. By the very definition of what the show is doing right now, we're not. Tarlos and BuckTommy are their own things with their own reasonings.

One of the other things I also keep being pulled back to is these issues: first of all, we know how LFJr plays with the 911 demo, given that they got to see it last season. It's why he was written into more episodes after his initial four episode arc and brought back. ABC has also used BuckTommy in their own adverts, which suggests that they are very supportive of the relationship continuing because it draws in viewers. Truly giving that up for good feels like dousing yourself in gasoline and then considering striking a match. Second, people also keep calling out that TM only plans a few weeks in advance. I believe this is true with story beats. We know that the writers room has a general idea on character arcs, thanks to some of the discussion on the cheese page post-806. I really struggle to believe that TM didn't know going into going forward with the breakup whether or not he wanted to bring LFJr back. We know he waffled back and forth on the idea of the breakup, meaning he probably had other solutions on his mind for whatever LFJr's schedule needed adjusting for, and this is what he decided on. Also, even if 8b hasn't been broken down yet (we know it hasn't), they would still know at this point what they do or don't want, what their ideas might be. Solidification for why Tommy should be brought back is directly shown in the reaction by the GA and the fandom to the breakup. They may not know exactly how that reunion happens yet, but what they have suggested is that Buck's new relationship will be short-lived. That he's using it to cope. We also know he's still processing the break-up and still misses Tommy. These are all things that point to the story not being over. Plus, I feel (once again), if the story really was over and they didn't have plans to continue this in 8b, LFJr wouldn't be talking about wanting to go back. It be far more "yeah that sucked, but it's over now and what can you do? I'm off to this new show and I'll never be back." (I've commented also on the fact that the fangirlish interview comment about his "i'm going here, doing this, have some opportunities" statement is very run-of-the-mill. Obvs I could mean something. Or it could literally just be a canned answer.) (This might feel a little off-center, but I think his commentary on trusting TM and knowing what he's doing in one of his post-806 interviews directly suggests that he believes the story is going to be handled properly.)

I realize at the end of the day, all of what I'm piecing together could mean zilch and Tommy could possibly never come back. They could truly just drop the story and never circle back around, set fire to a beautiful arc and lose thousands (possibly millions) of viewers. I've certainly suggested myself being one of them. But I don't see BuckTommy only getting an Abby fix for two reasons. LFJr wants to come back and continue the story, and Connie Britton only ever intended to do one season. Also, the fling has been called out as being planned to be short-lived. Why bother mentioning that if you don't have other plans for the story.

The last thing I'll leave you with is my commentary from the interview Oli and Aisha did with the guy from Chicago. That reporter obviously liked the BuckTommy storyline and said he's choosing to believe that the relationship is paused, not over. By relation, we had Oliver say three things: (1 and 2) Buck is still looking for love, both in himself and with another person. (3)The season is only half over. Circle that back to 806-808. Buck is finding love in himself by dealing with it in a healthy way (so far) with the baking. We've also seen the "cracks" Oli mentioned with his continued urge to want to text Tommy, as well as him fighting it off by baking (referencing the "pendulum swinging"). Looking for love in others will likely be this arc where he tries to deal/move on. I feel like we collectively watched the end of 806, and then 807 and 808 yelling at the TV "you're in love with him, piece it together already!" (or maybe that was just me???). But truly, whether it's a fling, his therapist, or Bobby/Maddie/Eddie who finally spells it out of or him, I think there will be a point at which we see that come to fruition. The seeds were sewn in for it in the scene with Josh. Now it's just about watching those seeds sprout.

Final note: we've had a good run up to this point with these two. Did we truly thing that the honeymoon phase would last forever? (I didn't. Conflict and the pink bubble popping have to happen eventually.) If we really want to suggest that what BuckTommy has is real, they have to go through this and come out the other side. I think everyone is justifiably frustrated due to the 4 month wait on new episodes (I personally would not have left people hanging quite like this, but that's just me), but the narrative does lead us toward what the show is doing with the suggestion that it does have a natural (and good) conclusion. (Possibly with a helicopter/truck/jeep crash?!)

And just as my singularly LAST note, here's my other thing: Evan and Tommy both have abandonment issues. (Tommy's are clear based on the break up and we know Buck's.) By that correlation, when these two finally get back together, they're never going to fucking let the other go.

(This was so much longer than I intended it to be, but that's my answer 😂😂😂😂😂😂)

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“You want to talk about it?” Her mate asked her flatly and Mor couldn’t help but grimace.

"No," Mor said simply, her tone clipped. She had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but it seemed as though Emerie was not willing to let her off that easily. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her mate just snorted. “Yeah, absolutely nothing,” she said sarcastically. “How about the fact that the male that spend 500 years being in love with you, met his mate 2 years ago and hasn’t said a single thing about it to any member of his family?”

"What do you want me to say, Em?" she asked with a sigh.

At the start…before Nesta had forced her to actually confront what she was feeling…Before she actually thought about the fact, that no…it wasn’t actually funny for Azriel to keep their mate from them…and it also wasn’t normal for him. Of course, Azriel liked his privacy, it was something that he fiercely guarded, but he was also…he wouldn’t have actually hidden away his mate from his family. He would have introduced her, would have invited her to birthdays and Winter Solstice and Starfall…

But he hadn’t. 

He had rather hidden away every trace of that relationship than actually talk to any of them about it. 

“Nesta told me that she laid into you,” Emerie said with a shrug. “You did use Azriel, you know that, Mor.”

Mor's expression hardened at Emerie's words. 

Emerie was right. She had used him. 

Of course, at the time…she had been desperate, afraid of the feelings that she had been having…willing to hide them… but the way she had gone about it hadn’t been…It hadn’t been fair. 

She just didn’t like to reflect on that. 

"It doesn't matter now, Em," she said flatly. "It's in the past."

“Is it?” Emerie asked, sharply. “You never tried to actually talk to Azriel about it. You just expected him to be alright with it. Alright with us,” she continued. “He has never once been anything but polite to me, but quite frankly he would have had every right to be pissed off.”

Mor just so managed not to grimace. 

Not a single word. Not a single gesture. Nothing but politeness and kindness had come from Azriel after her and Emerie’s mating bond had snapped. Nothing. 

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'm racked with guilt every damn day?" she asked her mate, turning away from from Emerie, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know that I hurt him, Em. I know that I used him. But what do you want me to do about it now? It's in the past, it's done. I can't change it."

Emerie was silent for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You can apologize," she said softly. "You can try to mend what you broke. And maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive you."

Mor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? For what?" she asked, her voice dripping with self-mockery. "For using him? For making him think he had a chance with me when he never did? For breaking his heart when I knew damn well how he felt about me?"

Emerie's expression hardened again. "Yes," she said firmly. "For all of those things. Because at the end of the day, Mor, you used him. And he deserves better than that."

Mor's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving her all at once. She knew that Emerie was right. She knew that she had been selfish, that she had hurt Azriel in a way that could never be undone. But the thought of facing him, of admitting her mistakes and opening herself up to the pain and rejection that surely awaited her…it was terrifying.

“I imagine he had a few very good reasons to keep Irena a secret from all of us,” Emerie said softly. “Regardless of what feelings he once harboured for you…he was always your friend, Mor. And he kept his mate a secret from you.”

Mor sighed, her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said softly. "I know. I thought it was jsut Az being Az but it’s not, is it?”

Emerie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Mor's arm. "No," she said softly. "It's not. It's him protecting something that he loves. And I don't blame him for that."

***

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked his mate softly.

Madja had checked on her the evening before…had told her to keep off her leg for a few days and plied her with more potions, bandages the bruises again… given her more sleeping draught. It hasn’t stopped Irena from waking up twice with nightmares.

"No," Irena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have much of an appetite." She looked pale, her eyes dull and lacking their usual sparkle. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, and his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

Shock had dissipated and left his mate…grieving and sad and Azriel curled himself tighter around her.

He could feel the weight of her sadness and grief, and it broke his heart to see her this way. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close and hoping to offer some comfort and support.

“You need to eat something, love,” he insisted softly. “Whatever you want.” 

He really didn’t care if all she had in her stomach were her favourite cookies, at least that would be something. 

Irena shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want anything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Just...just stay here with me."

Azriel's heart tugged at her words, and he pulled her even closer, cradling her against him. "Of course," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, love,” he promised her fiercely. “But you still need to eat something,” he whispered. “How about the shadows get you one of those blueberry pastries you like?”

Irena sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Alright," she said softly. "I do love those pastries." She looked up at him, her eyes still dull but a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t even need to order the shadows to do anything, they had one of her favourite blueberry pastries on a plate on the bed side table in a breath. *Please tell me you left the money,* he told them mentally.

The shadows seemed almost indignant. *Of course we left it. Do you think we're thieves?* Azriel smiled at their tone."

"Of course not," he said aloud, reaching for the pastry and offering it to Irena. "You're just very efficient." The shadows swirled around him almost smugly at the praise, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Irena thanked them softly. The shadows preened.

Azriel chuckled again, watching as the shadows swirled around Irena, as if basking in her gratitude. It was cute how they seemed almost puppy-like in their desire for her attention. 

He was amazed, as always, by how much the shadows adored her.

He had never expected them to warm up to anyone else, especially not as quickly as they had to his mate. 

Suddenly…as soon as he had properly introduced his shadows to her…as soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to start flinching away from them or from him if they showed up to badger her…as soon as that was clear, they had started to dote on her. Seemingly so pleased that there was another person that wasn’t scared off them. 

The shadows and Irena had formed a bond that defied explanation, and it made Azriel so happy to see the two things he cherished most in the world getting along so well.

(Even if he sometimes got jealous that the shadows never had doted on him like they did on Irena. He got porridge for breakfast but Irena got the ridiculous expensive pastries from the newest high end bakery. Irena got bubble bath, while he only got salt dumped into his bath water and got told that it was good for his muscles.) 

He watched as the shadows swirled around Irena, nuzzling against her like cats seeking affection. Irena laughed softly as they tickled at her ears and played with her hair.

He knew that his shadows were often feared and misunderstood, but with Irena they were playful and affectionate. It was like she had unlocked a whole new side of them, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of them interacting so sweetly with her.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I never thought I'd see the day when my shadows would be so smitten," he teased, his lips curving into a small smile. "I should be jealous, but I can't help but find it adorable."

Irena laughed, her eyes sparkling for the first time that day. "They're so sweet," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through the shadows that surrounded her. "It's like they're a different side of you."

Azriel chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I guess they are a part of me, in a way," he said. "And they seem to have a mind of their own, especially when it comes to you." He watched as the shadows nuzzled against her cheek, almost vying for her attention.

"They're quite taken with you," he said with a grin. "I don't blame them. Still, it's strange to see them so affectionate towards someone else." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it makes me happy to see them like this," he said softly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "It's like you're bringing out a side of them that I never knew existed. And it's a beautiful thing to witness." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Just like you."

There was a knock at the door.

*The High Lord and the Ancient One,* the shadows offered. *And the healer.*

*I’ll deal with them,* Azriel said with a snort.

“Finish your breakfast, alright?“ he told Irena softly as he slid out of the bed. Irena nodded, a small smile on her face. 

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he got up to answer the door.

“Madja,” he greeted the healer drily. “Irena just had breakfast. The bruises are already lightening,” he reported.

Madja nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Good," she said. "Keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, make sure she takes it easy. The leg needs to heal properly." He opened the door further, letting Madja slip in, and could just hear, "How are you feeling, my dear?" From Madja and Irena’s soft answer.

Which meant that Azriel turned towards his brother. “What do you want?” He demanded from Rhys, his voice sharp. 

Rhys held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Az," he said, his voice low. "I just wanted to check on Irena. Amren looked at the spellbook that Merrill was using,” Rhys explained.

“And?” Azriel asked flatly.

Did it actually matter? Merrill had been stupid and arrogant and a thousand other things. The spell didn’t seem to have done anything to Irena…her injuries had been thanks to the debris that had resulted in the spell going absolutely haywire, killing Merrill and seemingly exploding her office. 

“It was written in a language I do not know, but the best match is ancient Illyrian,” Amren gave back drily. 

Azriel's expression darkened at Amren's words. "Ancient Illyrian?" he repeated, his mind racing. "That can't be good."

Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what his ancestors had come up with. 

"It seems to be a very old dialect," Rhys explained. "One that hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It'll take some time to decipher it, but we're working on…”

“It seems to be a healing spell. Probably used in childbirth,” Amren cut him off. “When it didn’t find a pregnant female to latch onto, it redoubled back onto Merrill.”

"So Merrill's own spell backfired on her," Azriel mused. "And Irena got caught in the crossfire." He rubbed a hand over his face. “Has the spell done anything to Irena?” He demanded.

“Madja didn’t think so,” Rhys said carefully. “I wanted to check on Irena if that’s alright with you.”

He crossed his arms, not willing to entertain that even for a moment. 

“No,” he said flatly. 

“Let him in, Azriel,” his mate said softly, and he turned towards her, staring at Irena. 

The shadows were already dragging a fur around her shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind her, as Madja bandaged her leg.

Irena met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He didn’t want Rhys anywhere near her, Azriel was certain of that. And still…an still…

“Fine,” Azriel growled, stepping aside to let Rhys through. "Don't overstay your welcome," he warned Rhys. 

Rhys nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at Azriel's protectiveness. He clapped a hand on Azriel's shoulder reassuringly. "I won't stay long," he reassured his brother. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

Amren rolled her eyes, but for once didn’t say another word as Azriel closed the door. 

“High Lord,” Irena greeted Rhys, every inch the perfect lady even while she was laid up in her bed.

Rhys inclined his head, smiling gently at Irena, while Azriel already crossed the room to sit at her bedside, taking her hand in both of his. She reassuringly squeezed it. 

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked her. 

Irena gave him a small smile, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm healing, I suppose." She gestured to the leg, Madja was bandaging once again.  "Madja says I'll be good as new in a few days. And I’ve had worse,” she added flatly.

Rhys chuckled softly, his eyes softening with concern. "I don't doubt it," he said. "But still, it must have been quite a harrowing experience." He paused for a moment, looking at her intently. "I wanted to speak to you about what happened," he said gently. "If you feel up to it, of course."

Irena nodded, steeling herself for whatever questions Rhys might have. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

"I just wanted to ask you about what you saw when the spell hit you," Rhys said carefully. "Do you remember anything after the initial blast? Could you show me?”

“No.” Azriel snapped. “You are not going read her mind, Rhysand.” Not in a million years. 

He nearly bared his teeth at his High Lord in annoyance, already regretting letting him into their room. 

Irena was healing.

Rhys held up his hands in surrender, his eyes flickering to Azriel for a moment. "I wasn't going to do anything without her permission,  brother," he assured him calmly.

“It’s alright,” Irena agreed with him. “It’s fine, Azriel,” she assured him softly.  Azriel tensed for a moment, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her wishes. "I want to do this." She turned her attention back to Rhys. "Go ahead."

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low. "It might be difficult to recall the memories, but I need you to try."

Irena just inclined her head. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "Just...just go ahead."

Azriel watched, holding her hand tightly. Rhys was well trained at using his daemati abilities, but that didn’t mean that…

A moment later a soft shudder run through his mate, and Azriel growled. 

“Thank you, Irena,” Rhys said quickly, clearly already withdrawing from her mind.

“What kind of spell was it?” Itena asked her voice hoarse. 

Rhys sighed, "The spellbook was written in some kin of ancient language, we think some dialect of Illyrian. The spell itself was healing spell, probably used for childbirth," he explained. "The magic was searching for a pregnant female to latch onto, but when it couldn’t find one, it became more volatile," he said, his expression grave. "And that's when it found you, Irena. It was a complete accident, but the effects were still devastating."

“Did it do…anything to me?” Irena asked Madja quietly.

Madja looked up from the bandages she was applying to Irena's leg, her expression softening as she took in Irena's worried expression.

Madja studied her for a moment, her eyes flickering over the various scrapes and bruises on Irena's body. "Not as far as I can tell,” Madja said finally. "You're healing nicely, and there are no lasting effects to your body that I can see.”

It was something. It was reassuring to know that her physical injuries were being healed, and that there were no lasting effects.

Azriel squeezed Irena's hand, relief flooding through him at Madja's words. 

It was good. Some form of healing being found…

And the last thing Azriel had expected, where Irena’s next words, as she addressed Rhysand. 

“I’ll hand over my duties to Madja, as soon as I can,” Irena said softly. “I am aware that after what happened I am no longer suitable to make any more research involved decisions. I take full responsibility for what happened.“

Her voice was even, measured. Calm. 

Even when he could see the storm in her eyes…even when he could see…

She loved her job. He knew that she loved her job. She adored it in fact. And she excelled in it too. Irena seeme to be made for her job in the House of Wind. And to hear her contemplating giving it all up, just because of an accident that hadn’t been her fault at all…

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but Rhys spoke before he could say anything. "That won't be necessary," Rhys said firmly. "Irena, what happened was a complete accident. You had no control over what happened, and we all know that." He shook his head, his expression serious. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Rhys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent on Irena. "If anyone is to blame, it's Merrill," he said softly. "She was the one who was messing with magic beyond her understanding, she didn’t follow your orders and she was the one who unleashed that spell. You were just an innocent bystander in all of this."

He paused, looking between Azriel and Irena, his expression softening. "We will need to take precautions going forward, so nothing like that can ever happen again." he said carefully. "But we can figure that out together. And you do not need to give up your duties, Irena. We need you."

Irena looked down at the blankets in her lap, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "But what if something like this does happen again?" she asked softly.

Rhys shook his head, his expression firm. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with conviction. “None of what happened was your fault,” Rhys repeated firmly.

Azriel nodded in agreement, his grip on Irena's hand tightening. "He's right," he said gruffly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, love. This is on Merrill, not on you. "

“And you can’t quit because otherwise we’ll all drown under paperwork. Well, more than we already do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Irena chuckled softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I can't let that happen," she said wryly. "I can’t let the high Lord deal with even more paperwork, can I?“ she said drily.

Rhys moved to stand but then he suddenly froze. “You have been doing this on purpose,” he suddenly said, staring at her.

“Doing what?” Irena asked, cocking the head to the side. “Make sure that the library generates plenty of paperwork that needs the High Lord’s personal attention?”Rhys stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe. 

"You really are quite devious, aren’t you?" he said with a small laugh. "I never would have thought you’d be using your job specifically to ensure that I spend even more time doing paperwork."

“I don’t.” Irena said flatly. “It was petty revenge.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Petty revenge?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What on earth did I do to deserve such punishment?"

Irena just stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should think a bout how you have been treating my mate.”

What? 

Azriel had had no clue that…

Azriel hadn’t known about that. Hadn’t had the faintest inkling. 

Irena had been making sure that Rhys had more paperwork to go through?!

Rhys looked at him for a moment before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I deserved that one," he admitted. 

Azriel just grunted, his expression flat. "You deserved a lot more than that," he muttered. But there was no real anger in his voice. He was too tired for anger at Rhys. All he cared about right now was Irena. 

“You really are a perfect match,” Rhys said with some amusement. “And I do owe Azriel an apology,” he said simply. "I’ve been harsh on you, Azriel. And I haven’t been fair. I’ve been treating you like a tool, instead of like a brother, and I owe you an apology for that.”

Azriel was taken aback by Rhys's words. He had grown used to the way Rhys treated him - as a weapon first, and a brother second. Hearing Rhys acknowledge his mistakes was…certainly unexpected, and it left him feeling a little off-balance.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he looked up at Rhys, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate the apology."

Rhys nodded, his expression sincere. "I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll do better moving forward."

[sillysiluriforme]

Hey! I'm a huge fan of your le terror au (forgive me if I misspelled it) but I feel like I'm missing context clues? This could be just me but it says the au is Adrigamette, yet it seems more Marigami? And while everyone is having unspeakable horrors happen to them, it kinda seems like Adrien is the only one who isn't going to have a happy ending? If he's in a poly relationship, it seems like Kagami and Marinette are more in love with eachother and don't care about Adrien, and people seem to hate him even while getting to know he's a good person (I assume from your au he's a good person?) Again, I could be missing context clues as not all the comics have uploaded where I am so I'm grasping at straws here, and you don't have to explain, but is there like a link explaining the character dynamics a bit? Sorry to bother you!

1. Kagami’s the center of the throuple for most of the story. Adrinette takes a LOT of build up to happen.

2. This is a horror thriller comic how happy do you think everyone will be when the story ends ?

3. Adrien has a shit reputation in his class because he’s a billionaire model who’s friends with and keeps defending a bully to her victim’s faces. Like sure he has his reasons but that’s never gonna look good from an outside perspective. It’s part of his character arc it’s fine.

It’s 2002, they’re in high school, they’re French, they’re either obscenely rich or exceptionally talented at something and they’re basically stuck in the Chernobyl exclusion zone obviously they’re all going to be a little mean sometimes.

I like Adrien as much as anyone else but fan media is allowed to not be about him for 5 seconds. He has flaws and I won’t coddle him. When he fucks up in the story it’s his fault even he goes boo boo baby more about it. I won’t stand for your white woman tears Barbie boy.

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.