#no idea if she's fallen yet or not that's completely up to you!!! i tried to keep it —— fairly

[tobesolnelyx]

I was thinking about a oneshot for Natalie x reader in the wilderness. Like maybe they were both friends because they were both outcasts and Natalie always defended reader from anyone who tried to be mean. When the plane crashed, their dynamic didn't really change : they were still sticking together, looking for one another. At first, it was quiet, almost peaceful, despite the dread of the wilderness. But then winter came. Jackie died. Maybe reader refusing to eat her ?(because that was their team captain, how could she ever eat her ? Treat her body like it was only meat?). And she started to be quieter, refusing food portions, not doing anything except the chores. She even started to drift away from Natalie, which worried the girl. And Natalie tries her best to keep reader alive, because that's all that matters to her, but it's so hard especially when reader doesn't look at her anymore. And Natalie sees reader starting to fade away and it's driving her crazy because she doesn't know what to do and she is afraid that reader isn't going to survive, or worse, letting herself die. And everyone on the team is worried, everyone noticed but nobody knows what to do either. And if it's too uncomfortable for you, maybe reader (actively or passively, the choice remains yours) trying to kill herself. Then someone on the team finds her on the brink of death and calls everyone and Natalie is the first one to rush by your side. And when reader finally wakes up, Natalie is still by her side, she never left, watching every breath, even if subtle. And maybe Natalie refuses to ever leave reader's side again, except this time reader actually accepts the help and she gets better (as good as you can be in the wilderness)

So maybe fluff at the beginning/end, hurt/comfort and angst ? Thx anyway <3

— how much tragedy? || natalie scatorccio x reader 🎞️ (pre-crash/wilderness)

a/n: thanks for req! honestly big fan of the idea — always a sucker for hurt/comfort! hope you like it <3

summary: natalie will do anything to protect you. no matter what it takes. even if it means broken knuckles and shattered lies. || angst. hurt/comfort. fluff

warnings: standard yellowjackets warnings (cannibalism, gore etc…), mentions of suicide, attempt of suicide

word count: about 3k

Natalie simply loved being close to you. Not in an overbearing way—at least not when it was just the two of you—but it didn't take a genius to see that this girl had fallen for you. Completely. And maybe, for the first time in her life, Natalie didn't want to change that. She couldn't even entertain the thought of a world where your presence might be gone in any way. Natalie could push everyone else away just to draw you in, closer and closer with each day.

And sure, there were nights when her fingers itched to pick up some random payphone on the street just to tell you it was over—but she knew that by morning, she'd be crawling back on her knees, begging you to take her in like some stray dog.

It all started when you moved into the trailer park. Life had already dragged you through enough that relocating to some shithole town like Wiskayok in New Jersey, didn't exactly feel like rock bottom. Money was tight. Your parents weren't exactly winning medals in the "doing what they should" category.

Word got around fast. Kids from your neighborhood didn't have it easy at school, so it came as a shock when you found out about Natalie Scatorccio. Natalie, who had zero tolerance for the bullshit constantly thrown her way. Natalie, who was so effortlessly cool you couldn't tell if you wanted to be her or be with her. Natalie, who strutted through the school halls with her headphones on, untouchable, unreachable.

Natalie—who one day offered you a cigarette.

It was late. You'd slammed the door of your trailer behind you after yet another fight with your parents. Your hands were shaking with rage and frustration. You collapsed onto the front steps, trying to calm yourself before having to listen to your dad's endless ranting again.

Then Natalie appeared. Of course, headphones on, dressed in her soccer gear. She walked the length of the park with heavy steps, a gym bag slung over her shoulder, lazily smoking a cigarette.

She was smiling. That's what made you stare—that crooked smile.

Then Natalie's gaze—like she knew someone was watching—landed on you. Shit. You must've looked wrecked, because she came over. The smile vanished, but she didn't replace it with that distant, blank stare you knew so well. You couldn't read her at all.

Without a word, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and gave you a look. The kind of look someone gives when they know what it's like to have shitty parents. What it's like to feel like a screw-up since the day you learned to talk back.

You blinked. Once, twice. Then finally took the cigarette from her hand, and she pulled out a lighter.

Your hand trembled as you reached for it, but before you could grab it, Natalie was already leaning in, lighting the cigarette for you.

"Thanks," you mumbled. Natalie looked, for a second, like she was about to turn and pretend the whole thing never happened. But instead, she dropped down beside you on the concrete steps.

She stayed.

And maybe that's why you couldn't ever let her go.

The rest happened pretty naturally. Natalie just started hanging around. At first with a hint of hesitation, then not even bothering to hide the stupid grin on her face whenever she saw you.

You started smoking more around her. One time she even passed you a joint, and after a few hits, when you were completely high, Nat couldn't stop laughing.

"I'm gonna throw up," you groaned, lying limply on her bed. Something by Nirvana was playing in the background, and the air was so thick with smoke it felt suffocating. You wondered if the smell would ever leave your clothes. Maybe it would cling to you the same way it did to Natalie

"Bullshit," Nat grinned. "And if you do, make sure it's outside."

She handed you the joint again. You looked at her through bloodshot eyes, your expression twisted in mild disgust.

"I hate you," you mumbled — but still brought it to your lips.

"Sure you do," she replied, and took your hand like it already belonged to her. Only to intertwine her fingers with yours and press them to her chest. She didn't even look at you. And that's when you knew — you were both screwed.

Natalie could've won an official title as your guard dog. Every time someone bumped into you on purpose in the hallway or threw a stupid comment your way, she was there. As if she had a sixth sense for when someone was trying to bitch at you, even just a little.

"You need to learn to defend yourself," she once said, while you were painting her nails. You frowned, not quite understanding why. Aggression wasn't... your thing. You endured the jabs and teasing because no one had taught you any other way to cope. And besides, the thought of breaking someone's nose didn't exactly thrill you.

"I have you," you replied, looking her straight in the eyes. Even if it was selfish.

"I won't always be there," Natalie said, staring at you. Not because she didn't want to. If anything, she was just waiting for an excuse to be near you. But she knew she couldn't always be.

A moment of silence. A pause. And before you could think about why you probably shouldn't, your lips found hers — brief, sweet. Nat accidentally smudged black polish onto your shirt.

Neither of you ever brought it up. Maybe because you were both terrible at talking about feelings. Still — Natalie didn't push you away.

Oh, quite the opposite. From that moment on, she may as well have been chained to your side. She even begged you to join the Yellowjackets just so she could crack jokes during practice and hear the coach yell at you both to focus, for Christ's sake!

You spent every spare moment together — drinking, smoking. Sometimes just listening to music. Sometimes Nat would sneak kisses from your mouth, even though neither of you ever defined what this was. You got used to it. Maybe it wasn't part of friendship, but you weren't complaining. There was some unspoken rule that you didn't talk about it, but neither of you ever considered being with anyone else.

You won states. Nat even convinced the coach to let you room together at the hotel, despite being a complete pain in the ass most of the time. He probably suspected Natalie would sneak into your room after curfew anyway.

And honestly? She didn't need anyone else when she had you.

Then the plane crashed. In the middle of nowhere. And as if that wasn't enough — help never came.

At first, it wasn't so bad. Almost peaceful. Natalie was near, and you were far away from that New Jersey hellhole, from the annoying parents. From fights, school rumors, real life.

Nat learned how to hunt. She often went out with Travis for hours, but when she came back — whether she had food or not — she always made time for you. Sometimes she insisted on taking you along, even though you knew nothing about shooting animals and were more or less useless.

Sometimes Natalie picked flowers for you. Sometimes you'd end up in the wreckage of the plane, making out for long minutes until you had to go back. It wasn't paradise, it wasn't easy. But it could've been a lot worse.

The avalanche started with Laura Lee. When she was gone, hope began to flicker out. Something dimmed. Everyone's posture changed, like something inside had slumped.

Then came Doomcoming. You remembered little. You weren't even sure you wanted to remember. It was easier not to.

Natalie found you on the ground in front of the cabin. She was panting like she'd just run a marathon — maybe she had. You weren't sure. You stared at her, trying to figure out whether she was real or just another hallucination.

"Nat..." you started, but she just led you to the lake. Helped wash the blood (God knows whose) off your dress and the dirt from your hands. She cleaned your cuts while you stared blankly into the distance, rinsing yourself off without much thought.

Natalie should have known that's when it started. That moment, when your eyes went lifeless for just a second — that's when you began slipping out of her hands.

She never told you what really happened. Maybe that, too, was her weird way of taking care of you.

Shauna and Jackie had a fight. Jackie stormed out, and you wanted to go after her — tell her not to be stupid and just come back inside. But Nat grabbed your wrist.

Maybe Jackie wasn't the kindest to Nat, but she was never cruel to you the way the other popular girls were. Sure, she cared way too much about gossip, but she never asked where you lived, never cared that your parents weren't picture-perfect or that you couldn't afford better clothes.

"Let her go," Natalie pulled you back. "She'll be fine. It's just one night. Maybe she'll finally swallow her fucking pride."

You didn't quite understand. Jackie didn't deserve that.

But then morning came. Snow had fallen. And when you saw Jackie's lifeless body, Natalie's words started haunting you. You threw her a look from the cabin doorway, but her eyes were fixed on the corpse. That was the third time you'd seen Nat look truly terrified — once when you kissed her, once when the plane crashed. And now this.

Something inside you shattered. Whatever little hope you still carried scattered like dust, and you stopped believing her when she whispered above your head at night, "It's going to be okay."

Jackie was dead. Winter had come. No help in sight. It was hell. And suddenly, you'd rather be back home enduring another screaming match with your parents than lying curled up beside Natalie.

And just when you thought this nightmare couldn't get any worse, one night you heard knocking. Coach limped frantically back into the dark cabin, panic written all over him. But Natalie wasn't with him. No one else was.

So naturally, you went to look for her.

Natalie, who at that exact moment was tearing into a strip of meat—ripped from Jackie's leg.

Jackie, who not that long ago had helped you do your makeup for Doomcoming.

You vomited on the spot, even though there was nothing in your stomach to bring up. There hadn't been much food for days.

The next day, you found Natalie in pieces. Sitting in the snow, staring horrified at what was left of Jackie. And even though you had never cared about anyone more in your life — you couldn't bring yourself to comfort her. The words stuck in your throat.

You walked past her. Some grim compulsion driving you to see what was left of Jackie's skull.

"Wait—" Natalie scrambled to her feet and followed you, like she was trying to stop you. Like she wanted to shield you from seeing the truth. You turned around and found you could barely meet her eyes.

"Tell me you didn't..."

Even though you'd seen it. Even though it was burned into your memory. Maybe it was just another sick dream.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, trying to pull you into her arms. She was repulsed with herself. She looked like she might throw up right then and there. "I had to, okay? We're starving—"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nat," you cut her off. "I'm starving too, and I haven't eaten a fucking corpse!"

After that, everything started to unravel. At least for Natalie.

The others noticed, but either didn't want another problem on their hands or just didn't know how to deal with it. They sent you looks, tried to reach out. But you never answered the way they hoped.

You simply couldn't take it anymore.

And the truth was: you began to vanish before their eyes. A little more each day. Natalie grew desperate.

You barely spoke. Not many people felt like talking anymore, but you — you only spoke when you absolutely had to. You refused meals. Maybe because the image of Jackie being devoured had made it impossible to eat. Or maybe because at some point, you just stopped wanting to live. Maybe you didn't care whether help came or not. What was the point of eating if you might end up like Jackie anyway?

You still did your chores. Quietly. Carefully. But your body was starting to betray you.

Natalie went feral.

You pulled away from her, and she couldn't stand it. She clung to you with everything she had, terrified of what would happen if you slipped away. She couldn't even imagine it. It would break her in ways she wouldn't recover from. She started hunting more. When she brought back a rabbit or two, you refused your portion.

She begged. Got on her knees. Pleaded with you to eat, just a little, because your wrists were getting dangerously thin. Because she could see every bone. Because your skin had turned ghost-pale, and sometimes you froze mid-movement — your body simply giving out.

You wouldn't even look at her. You scooted away on the cabin floor, just far enough that it felt like a knife in her chest. Natalie had only felt this broken once before — when her father died. Maybe that had been easier. His death was sudden, quick. This? This was slow. Cruel. She was watching you fade. Watching the life leave you, and she was powerless to stop it.

No begging helped. No touch. No voice.

The worst part was — you didn't want to live anymore. Your eyes were completely empty. And this time, not even Natalie could save you.

She was at the edge.

One day, you just drifted away.

Your legs gave out. Your body — worn thin from hunger, cold, and the never-ending fight to survive — simply stopped working. You were supposed to bring water back to the cabin that day. At some point, you just collapsed into the snow. Everything went black.

Like you were meant to share Jackie's fate.

When Natalie returned from the hunt and you weren't there, the air was already heavy with tension. She knew. Deep down, she knew something was wrong. And there was no fucking way she was letting you go.

Someone said something — Natalie snapped. Furious at all of them for letting you go out alone in that condition.

Eventually, someone found you.

Natalie nearly twisted her ankle tearing through the snow to reach you. The last time she ran that fast was during the game that got them into Nationals.

She refused. Refused to accept the idea that she might lose you. Decided the wilderness could go to hell this time, because she was not agreeing to this.

She dragged you back. Screamed at Misty, voice cracking between sobs, telling her to finally make herself useful and help.

She didn't leave your side. Not for a second. She watched for every breath, every twitch of your fingers while you lay unconscious. She skipped hunts. Obsessively checked that you were bundled in as many blankets as they had. You were still cold — but not as frozen as when she found you. You were still breathing. That was enough. Lottie could shove her wilderness truths in her ass, really.

Natalie stayed awake for nights. Slept in short, shallow bursts in case you opened your eyes. Her head had just dipped when she felt a sudden movement beside her — stronger than before. The fire crackled in the dark.

And finally, finally, your eyes opened.

"Hey," Natalie was by your side in an instant, on her knees. Her fingers gently brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "You're safe, I promise." She clutched your hand, trying to warm it with hers, desperation bleeding through her voice. "I'm here. I'm right here. I'm never leaving you again, I swear—"

She whispered in the dark until the words collapsed into silence. Then she pulled you into her arms. You didn't speak, but that didn't surprise her. What mattered was that you were alive. Natalie still had a chance to keep you breathing — and that was all that counted.

When you drifted off again — weak, after hours of being rocked gently in her arms, lulled by promises and shattered reassurances — Natalie made a decision. She would get food into you. Even if it meant forcing it.

But before she could figure out how to do that, they organized a hunt. You and Lottie were both too far gone to be aware of much. There was no time to plan.

The next thing you remembered was waking to find Natalie sitting beside you, just like always — except now she looked worse. Shaking. Her cheeks streaked with dried tears, her hair a mess. You furrowed your brows, trying to take in the scene.

Jackie's necklace was hanging from Natalie's neck.

You were about to ask what happened when she spoke first.

"Please," she whispered, voice hoarse and cracked.

Your gaze dropped to her hands — a bowl of warm meat cradled in her palms.

"Please," she repeated.

And this time — you agreed.

You trusted her. Didn't ask where the meat came from. Wanted to believe that maybe, somehow, she'd managed to catch something. That maybe things were turning.

Natalie felt the weight slip from her chest.

She helped you sit up, carefully propping you against her chest. Her hands trembled as she fed you, silently praying you wouldn't notice that Javi was nowhere to be seen in the cabin.

She hated lying to you. Hated it more than anything.

But the thought of losing you was way worse.

And you ate. You let her help. You accepted the food.

So Natalie told herself everything else could wait.

That night, she whispered it into your ear like a secret.

"I love you."

Natalie loved you so much that she could accept the possibility of you hating her, once you knew. As long as you were still alive.

[randomshyperson]

hiii😸

i wanna request wanda with hugs no. 31😻 ur fluff is so good i want to bash my head into the wall

/pos

hope u get free from ur writer's block!!😻

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging while straddling the partner | words: 2066k | warnings: (+18), dark(ish)!wanda, smut, bottom!reader, dom!wanda mainly, implied variant death sorry, but happy ending for the main.

a/n-> this is the last one actually, i got my drafts confused if you saw more in the masterlist you didn't. i won't be posting anything for a while now just to write new series but I won't be gone for long I hope.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Considering all the things that had happened until she reached this moment, Wanda expected there to be more noise.

Fighting. Or even pain.

Two years and six hundred and eighty-four universes and she had finally found you.

Not a fallen hero version, not an evil clone, not a dead wife.

Just you, available, alive and asleep.

The room was dimly lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the half-open curtain. Her variant must have gotten up early to prepare breakfast, and Wanda took complete control before she could even open the door. She took in little of the room, mostly focused on your sleeping figure in the bed in the corner, peaceful and vulnerable.

Five universes ago a variant of you had tried to arrest her for crimes against the multiverse, so this calmness was quite the bonus.

She quickly inspected the most recent memories before the deepest ones. This Wanda didn't know she loved you like that, not yet. Young and naive, this variant was rewarded with an entire childhood and adolescence by your side. Friends since kindergarten, the deep intimacy between you was beautiful to watch. Easy to envy.

It was a sadistic joke that in all the universes, she was the only one having a miserable life.

Controlling her own irritation, Wanda pushed those memories away and sighed deeply. You moved, searching for her warmth in the mattress and she wondered if your variant was already sure of what she knew many universes ago. You were made for each other.

She watched you with some curiosity. She still wasn't sure how she would do it. She hardly had a clear plan. She took very deliberate actions now, which was probably why she always ended up with some wizard on the way, close to some interdimensional prison.

But as you woke up, Wanda felt around that reality. There was magic like most, but it wasn't as strong even in the body she occupied now. This Wanda was a beginner witch, with simple levitation or tarot tricks that she could use to make you laugh in admiration.

Your sleepy figure finally opened its eyes, felt the bed, turned your face, and faced her standing in the middle of the room. Wanda felt so small, not at all like the great Scarlet Witch. She was almost like a child, eager to please. To be liked. When you frowned at her, she wondered if you were already able to tell she was a fraud, an impostor.

But your expression softened, and you chucked hoarsely.

 "Were you watching me sleep? Creep."

Oh, you had no idea.

Wanda swallowed, forcing a chuckle. "I wasn't." She lies quickly, pushing away emotional nausea as your tousled-haired, sleepy-eyed figure brings back similar memories of a life she doesn't know how to get back. She clears her throat and looks away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just going to get breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah." You chuckle relaxedly, patting the mattress as you rest your elbows on the bed, your back against the headboard. "Come back to bed. It's too damn early."

She sees it then, when the sheet loses in your body and she catches a glimpse of your neck full of purple marks. The most recent memories are indeed different from what she searched for before. Peeking again, it's a bit overwhelming to be invaded by the sensations of your kisses and groping all at once, a night of steamy making out in that bed, after a college party that ended long after the time you and the variant returned to this dorm. Wanda sighs, realizing that this body misses your touch just as much as she does. So addictive for every single one of her, no matter the universe.

But her silence brings a hesitation to your face, and you settle better in bed. 

"Hey, if this is about last night..." You begin, a little awkwardly with a nervous giggle. One of your hands pushes your hair back in a nervous gesture, and Wanda gasps softly. The tattoo on her forearm has very familiar symbols. She searched every corner of the multiverse and ended up with a punk covered in protective runes. This was Strange's work, of course. He was probably going to as many worlds as she was. Protecting variants before Wanda could reach them. Take them for herself. You, oblivious to the whole thing, kept talking. "It's okay if you regret it. We don't even have to talk about it if it's weird. I mean, if you want we can even go back to being just friends, I definitely don't want to lose-"

"You're not." She cuts you off, taking steps towards the bed. You fall silent in surprise, but Wanda forces a smile. "Where did you get that tattoo again?"

You frown at the sudden change of subject, stammering a little as you try to remember and then finally laugh, looking at her with some confusion. "It's just reindeer, remember? That strange woman made it for us at the beach last week. It should go away soon."

Wanda searched a little more and found the memory you mentioned. Beach, friends, witches she didn't know, that this variant didn't know how to perceive yet. A witch using the opportunity to draw protective spells on your skin as if she could read the danger in your future.

She took a deep breath and walked closer until she felt her shins hit your bed.

"Maybe you should take it off now."

You hum absently, looking at the tattoo. "Why? I liked it. You also said it was pretty. Maybe I could even make it permanent-"

"No!" She snaps back through gritted teeth, startling you a little. Forcing a smile then, Wanda considers the options. She probably can't mess with your memory right now, maybe she can keep you calm, until she finds an appropriate solution. "I just... I think your first tattoo should be something more meaningful, sweetheart. And not some cheap art from a charlatan, huh?"

You frown, before your chucle again, looking at her with confusion. "Wanda, are you high?" We got our first tattoos together in high school. Have you really forgotten that?" You look upset. Wanda hates this. Hates it with all her might. Out of everything she’s ever done, hurting you is probably the most painful and stupid thing she ever did.

She shakes her head, forcing a giggle. She bends her knees and crawls towards you, which immediately wipes the frown off your face.

Young people and their hormones.

“Oh, babe, I just got confused. I’m sorry.” She begins, and you swallow hard as she takes her place on your lap. Your hands hesitate on the mattress until Wanda grabs them and moves to her waist. “Don’t be upset.”

With your mouth dry, you try, “I’m not.” but it comes out so hoarse that Wanda wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been so close. Her hands close behind your head, and you wait for her to make the first move like the good girl you’ve always been no matter what universe.

Wanda shouldn’t risk it, but she can’t resist. You seem so eager for her to do it too that she doesn’t have the heart not to. The kiss starts out innocent, tentative. She wants to know the extent of the protection runes, and eventually, she realizes that you were right about the ink coming off. Wanda manages to turn you into a mess of breathless whispers as she slides her tongue against yours, and once your arms are tightening around her waist, invading beneath her shirt, she can feel the runes melting in your skin, until finally, she feels no magic resistance. You are all hers to play with.

But like everything else she’s done, Wanda didn’t quite calculate what kissing you would do to her. The effect on her body is ridiculously incapacitating and distracting. She knows she should be muttering spells, but all that comes out of her mouth are affected gasps. Your hands move down, grabbing her ass and grinding her against your lap and Wanda forgets what she came here to do.

"I cannot believe..." You groan suddenly, between one kiss and another. "That we've gone so long without doing this." Wanda bites your lip, pulling and making you whimper, the sound sending a sharp throb through her belly. Your dilated pupils stare at her with such adoration that Wanda needs a moment.

She remembers those looks. She remembers everything. And it's only fair that you remember too.

Coming closer, she kisses you more fervently now. Enough to make you squirm on the mattress, trying to pull her down, increase the friction between your hips. But Wanda knows the passion will turn, so she controls the kiss, controls everything.

One of her hands wraps around your hair, and she's still kissing you, taking the air from your lungs as the first memories dance in flashes behind your eyes.

You frown in confusion, trying to pull away, but Wanda kisses you again, and again until you gasp in shock and her magic goes deeper into your mind, invading you without you even realizing it.

Wanda's free hand suddenly goes inside your pants and you gasp against her mouth, surprised by the touch before surrendering completely to her.

Wanda pants into your mouth, and red irises glare at you when you break the kiss with a moan. She's not gentle, her fingers pushing your panties aside and not bothering to collect much of the surrounding moisture before sinking inside, filling you up all at once. She twists her hand, pushing deeper and you whimper into her mouth. Oh, how Wanda missed feeling you like this, coming undone against her fingers. 

There’s a flash of memories again, of a team of heroes and a battle, but Wanda adjusts her hand and her palm presses against your clit, and you break into a moan and throw your head forward on her shoulder. She hums in satisfaction, the hand that’s not inside your pants moving past your hair, to your back in an attempt to calm you. 

The memories will get worse, you’ll remember everything eventually. 

Wanda knows that sooner or later you will- Your hand wraps around her throat suddenly. She’s startled, of course, but the sound sounds much more like a moan than a protest of pain. Your eyes glow the same scarlet as hers, and the once-innocent expression carries a maturity that only memories of a lifetime could give you. Your hips are still moving—hard and fast against her hand, but Wanda feels much less in charge. You squeeze her neck as you come, and she feels so ridiculously turned on that she can barely move her fingers, being used up in the final waves of your climax. Not a second later, your hand pushes hers away, and her body is pushed next. Pressed against the bed with you on top, instead of holding her neck, you hold both your hands above her head.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this is a very welcome way to bring someone back to life."

She chuckles affectedly, with emotion, with lust. A little - a lot - of both. But in the end, emotion wins. The tears in her eyes are indeed from longing.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She says hoarsely, her hands still clasped on top of her head.

You sigh, loosening your grip without letting go of her. "Wanda, how..." But she looks like she'll start crying, for real, if you have to explain. You sigh again in defeat and soften your gaze. "How about that coffee? And you explain everything to me calmly."

She nods, smiling tearfully. "You'll have to get off of me first." She jokes, but you look at her mouth and get a little closer to her face. 

"Yeah, in a minute. I don't know how long it's been, honey, but you've managed to get even more stunning." 

She laughs shyly. "Good to know you're still a flirt." 

"Only with my girl." That's what you say before closing the distance. Wanda doesn't need to think about anything or worry as long as she has this. No multiverse, no possible dead variants. She has you, and that's all that matters.

[valalice]

PRELUDE: POPULARITY CONTEST

punk rockstar!vi 𝑥 fem!popstar!reader

summary. label mandated events. everyone dreads them, but social networking is a must; an art form managers have mastered and a sport to artists in order to thrive in the competitiveness that is the music industry. and it’s here where the two of you were closer than you had even thought.

warnings. it's just the prelude, so no major warnings. angst a little bit. industry parties. mentions of alcohol and drugs. original non-canon characters. mentions of not so great friends (surround yourself with people you love). not much more i can think of, if i missed any, please lmk.

wc. 1553

a speaks. well! here she is! the first chapter of the series. i'm not completely satisfied with it, but it's just the prelude, a little teaser for what's to come, she is on the shorter side because it is a prelude, regular chapters will be longer! and with that i have to plug my ao3, i will be dully posting her on tumblr and on ao3, so if you prefer the formatting of ao3 over tumblr's then feel free to head over there! there will be no explicit of vi within the prelude *wink* but the next chapters y'all will be fed, i promise! and lastly thank you so much from just the amount of sweet comments saying how excited you are for the series, it not only motivates me but also warms my heart. i love you guys, thank you for the support. happy reading <3

series masterlist | read it in ao3 | series playlist

YOU STARE STUNNED at your manager. Mouth agape, skin drained of all its color, and eyes wide, bulging even, to the point where if you even tried to widen your eyes further they’d pop out of your sockets and roll onto the floor ridden with fallen confetti.

“And you chose to tell me this now?” you questioned, voice fluctuating to a pitched shrill. Out of the frustrated and impending heavy stress-ridden weights you already feel stacking on your shoulders and in hopes that your manager could hear your distaste for the delivery of this news over the bumping music.

“I didn’t know when to tell you.”

There wasn’t enough restraint nor care to hold the scoff that bubbled up in your chest, up to your throat, and out your mouth. “So, here was the perfect place, Corinne?” quirking an eyebrow.

“I knew the news would get you,” pausing to look down the length of your antsy figure, a clear standout in the sea of swaying people against each other. Trying to gather the right words that won’t send you off your rocker, further. “wound up. And I was right. But you’re at a party, the environment is fun, loose, and light. Enjoy it, you’re with friends.” she eases, inching closer towards you, knowing what works with you in the near decade of being your manager.

Your eyes bore into Corinne's, squinting at her just before dropping to eye at the little glittery clutch in your hand that matches your skirt. Flicking at a few of the glitter specs on the clutch with a manicured nail before huffing, shoulders deflating upon the exhale from the involuntary hunch you had them in seconds before. 

Corinne’s words soak past surface level for a moment, absorbing, and trying to understand that, while unideal, being in an uppity environment could busy your racing mind from running laps around any and all possibilities on why your boss urgently wants a meeting with you. Yet, still, you would’ve much preferred this news in private. Wrapping your arms around yourself, looking over your shoulders to the people in the room—some faces you knew, whether they're fellow artists, celebrities of varying lists, or casual socialites who find their way into parties like these often, but most of whom you don't know, that's how it's always been; being in a room full of people who you have no idea who they are, yet they know everything about you. Turning back around to Corinne, “None of these people are my friends.”

“Then, colleagues.” she fixes, raising her voice when the music starts to roar.

Instead of scoffing a humble chuckle takes its place. “Colleagues who want to see me crash and burn into the Bermuda Triangle to never be seen again. Then, yes, they are.”

Corinne gives you a look you know all too well, a disciplinary look when the older woman thinks whatever you’d just said was inappropriate. Her head drops and a hand finds home on her waist as her body slants. “Morbid. These colleagues who ‘want to see you crash and burn’ are also fighting with each other to get a feature.” 

“There won’t be much to feature on if I get fired.” you gloom, grey, thundering clouds of pessimism altering your mood.

“You’re the label’s darling, no one’s getting fired.” she comforts, or tries. Even after all these years, it’s still foreign to her to properly comfort you in moments like these, but she does her best as the arm against her side raises. The coldness of her hand on your upper arm startles you, an icy comfort soothes over your burning skin, relaxing into her touch. ‘You’re the label’s darling’ runs on repeat like a record on a record player, the only thought that occupies the dark space of your mind right now, attempting to stomach the words in hopes that you’d digest them and be able to believe that Corinne is right.

The pressure of her hand leaves your arm, the pads of her fingers wisping down your upper arm as she catchers her arm to lay at her side once again, taking a step back from you with a click of her heels. Now, it’s Corinne’s turn to look beyond her shoulders to observe the room, everyone’s in their own fantasy land—maybe that’s due to the boos and drugs making their rounds through the room for each guest to get their desired fix—yet, she digress when she focuses attention to the younger in front of her. The pesky grey clouds persisting overtop of your head, your slumped figure reminding her nothing less than a kicked puppy; she pitties you.

“I’m going to network. I think I spotted that one videographer you’ve been wanting to work with.” She hoped that with this mention you’d perk up, but she got nothing more than a tight-lipped smile followed by a weak nod.

“It would be pretty cool if we got him to work on the new album visuals.”

Corinne shares her own tight-lipped smile with you. “Atta girl. Try to loosen up, yeah? You’re going to get more knots if you stay tense.”

A feathery light laugh falls from your lips that she turns her worries to the hypothetical knots you’ll develop. “Noted. I’ll see if I can find my friends.” contradictory to your earlier statement, but it’s a win-some-lose-some situation when all you’ve got is a small pool of people to refer to as a friend. Never genuine a friend, no, but you do develop a bond when mutual use of each other is used to forget the loneliness that is guaranteed with fame.

“You mean colleagues?” she quips, testing you on your past ideology.

There was a space that became as the two of you began to drift apart. “They’re starting to overlap for me.” you shrug, already knowing that both wish to see the same thing happen to you. Leaving Corinne to watch as you disappear into the abyss, pleased that you’ve regained even just a bit of pep in your step—she knows you too well to not know how to get your spirits back on track.

Working your way through the crowd you shout your fair share of “Excuse me’s” and “Right behind you’s”, refraining the best you can from elbowing your way through after a few shoves to yourself; although you’re almost positive that most deserve the elbow. 

Balling your fists up, still grasping your clutch in your grasp, as you bring your hands up to your chest, thinking you’ll move fast through the crowd without your arms at your sides. Just when you’re near the other side of the room you hear the shouts of your name—stage name, but name nonetheless—through the music, certain that when you exit the building your ears will be ringing and your heart still vibrating in your chest cavity from the blaring music the DJ is mixing up. Whipping around you squint, attempting to see the caller of your name past the blinding light effects. With defeat, you shuffle through the crowd, following the indicator of the person’s arm flailing in the air every so often.

Not knowing what happened next, if your foot got caught or if someone had shoved you again, but you end up bracing onto someone’s back. Taking a hold of their broad shoulders the best you can, cringing when the blunt sound of your clutch meets the person’s back in the abrupt moment, while your other hand desperately tries to get a grasp on them, but you end up just missing the mark as your sweaty hand (courtesy of the cramped space) slides down the leathery smoothness of their jacket.

It’s a blur when you crane your neck to look out to the crowd once more upon the call of your name, a hand snapping around your wrist and pulling you into their grasp—it’s Gwen, her model legs reaching you quicker than you would’ve ever been able to. Before you can process an apology for bracing on the random person, Gwen is already whisking you through the congested room. Too preoccupied with trying to catch a glimpse over your shoulder from where you previously were to pay attention clearly to whatever she’s rambling about, not that you could hear her anyway over the DJ’s newest mix. But as you move further along, you can no longer spot the mystery person, or well their back, who had generously been in the right spot at the right time for you to catch yourself on them. Not that you’d be able to know what they looked like, just going off of the fact that they’d be wearing a leather jacket—though who would wear a leather jacket in here?

The question would linger in your mind for the rest of the night, scoping through the crowd for anyone who had on anything eerily similar to a leather jacket. And when the night rounds out to an end you’re left with an irk buried deep beneath your skin that the question is left unanswered, with no real reason on why you’re bothered by this.

Yet, this incident out of many—the countless right times, right places missed—unknowingly brings you one step closer to the meeting that’s always been bound to occur.

thank you for reading <3 remember to comment and reblog!

for the fame series masterlist | next chapter (coming february 14th!)

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Bambi and Alexia

Christmas never used to be so busy, Alexia thinks to herself as she gets yet another paper cut trying to wrap presents.

It's a wonder that baby Jaume needed all this stuff but Alexia preserves as she wraps yet another stuffed football that everyone seems to be getting him.

You're easy to buy for though and the three model trains Alexia bought are already wrapped and under the tree as well as your new ballet pumps and the cute music box that plays some ballet melody that the woman at the shop said you would love.

"Mami?"

Your head pokes around the door frame, unbound hair swaying slightly with your movement.

Alexia smiles, ignoring the sting of her new paper cut as she extends her arms out for you.

You go into them willingly, settling on her lap.

"What is it, bambi? Is something wrong?"

She tries to rack her brain for everything that could have gone wrong. It's not been long since she picked you up from ballet and you went up to your room to find your train conductor's hat and build a whole new track for some of your older train models.

Alexia tries to think whether any of your shelves looked wobbly or if something could have fallen on you but you don't look injured and you don't seem to be crying either.

"No," You say and Alexia breathes an internal sigh of relief," Just forgot to give something to you."

Alexia hadn't noticed the little sheet of paper in your hands when you first came into her, too wrapped up in the idea that you had somehow gotten injured with something.

"But you can't read it!" You say quickly when Alexia goes to take it," Because the dance teacher said that only Santa's allowed to read it but we need to give it to our mummies so they can send it off to him."

"I won't read it," Alexia lies, pressing a soft kiss to your crown," And I'll send it straight off to Santa."

"Promise?"

"Straight off to Santa," Alexia repeats, adjusting your train conductor hat on your head," Now, why don't you head on upstairs again and I'll grab you when it's snack time?"

"Okay!"

You off up the stairs again and Alexia gently opens your letter to Santa once she hears your bedroom door click closed.

The words haunt Alexia for most of the night. Even as she lays in bed with Olga tucked under her arm and Jaume on the baby monitor on the bedside table.

Alexia slips out of bed, endlessly pacing the length of the house with the only light coming from her open laptop screen.

It's a complete whim that she books them, already knowing you're going to see a version of it over the Christmas period but Alexia just can't help herself.

"Mami?" You say weeks later as Alexia wraps a scarf around your neck," Where are we going?"

"I've got a surprise for you," Alexia says," Santa's spoken to me."

Instantly, your eyes go wide and you start chewing on the inside of the cheek.

"Am I on the naughty list?"

"Oh no," Alexia says quickly, drawing you into her arms," Not at all. You're actually on his nice list and, you know what?"

"What?"

"You're all the way at the top!" Alexia says," And kids all the way at the top get a Christmas gift early!"

"Oh," You say, cheeks going a little pink at the praise," And we're going out?"

"We are."

"And then Olga and Jaume are coming later?"

You glance behind you where Olga is feeding your little brother his dinner.

Alexia shakes her head. "Just us. Santa was very certain that had to be just us two."

"He was? So he did get my letter!"

"He did," Alexia agrees," So it's just going to be me and you tonight, bambi."

The words of your letter are still on Alexia's mind as she walks you into the theatre.

Dear Santa,

I'm sorry if I was a naughty girl this year but for Christmas, can you make sure my Mami doesn't forget me ever again?

Love y/n

"Mami?" You ask when Alexia's hands don't lift up from where they're covering your eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are we there yet?"

"Just one moment. Let me just...Yeah, just turn a little, bambi. That's it. Good girl."

You react just like Alexia had hoped you would - wide eyed in awe as you look around the reception area of the Ballet de Catalunya's performance of the Nutcracker.

You'd already seen a performance with your ballet class but that had been a semi-professional production from the adjoining ballet school for the older pupils.

This was a proper performance though and Alexia gently leads you over to buy some keepsakes for the evening before walking you up into the box seats she'd paid a stupid amount to get on short notice.

"Now," Alexia says as she sits down," I can't seem to remember the story of the Nutcracker. Can my favourite girl in the world explain it to me?"

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Runaan's Last Secret

*smokes bubble pipe* I suppose you're wondering why I've gathered you all here today. It is simple, mes amis. We've waited six years to find out what really happened inside King Harrow's chamber the night the assassins attacked. And with the release of S7, all these long years later, I finally have the last pieces of information I need to find the full truth.

We all thought there was a murder to solve in the king's chamber. But I'm here to tell you now, that is not the case.

Let us begin at the beginning and assemble our evidence:

The night Harrow died, Runaan tried to convince Rayla to give up the egg, tried to scare her off from returning it.

He couldn't sway her from her journey of redemption, though. They came to blows.

But he chose his mission over killing her. He wasn't even out of breath when they stopped fighting - if he'd truly wanted her dead, she'd be dead.

He left her behind and led four assassins up the front steps of the tower. There, he executed a frontal assault on the king's chamber, when they're built and trained for stealth.

The fight dragged on loudly. It drew extra soldiers from around the entire castle, who left their posts unguarded. But it had a purpose.

Delaying his own victory would cost lives on both sides, but clearing a path for Rayla to escape with two soft human princes in tow would ensure her survival. Runaan had already committed himself to this course when he refused to force her to complete the mission. He couldn't back out now.

Alright, that's the catch-up. For years, we had no idea what actually happened inside Harrow's chamber. But in S7, we finally got a peek. And I'm afraid it's told me everything I need to know. *more bubble pipe noises*

Let's consider these newer clues from S7:

When Runaan finally breached Harrow's door, two other assassins rushed in with him: Andromeda and Skor. Only Callisto, it seems, had fallen alongside Ram out in the hall.

Runaan drew his bow and killed Harrow - or so his binding ribbon believed -

- but the next we see -only moments later as the reinforcements have not yet arrived from below - only one assassin staggered out of that chamber and onto the balcony.

The other four members of the squad died in this battle, and their bodies were recovered by Viren, along with their weapons.

Which means, no one else survived that room. Only Runaan.

The assassins weren't attacked by human troops, either. Runaan had time to stagger out to the balcony at his hobbled pace. No guards caught up to him until he'd already shot the shadowhawk arrow.

When he burst into Harrow's chamber, this is what he was wearing.

When he left it, this was all he had.

Moonshadow assassins are some of the deadliest fighters in all of greater Xadia. No one survives them. No one.

No one... except Runaan of the Silvergrove.

Remember when I said we were not here to solve a murder in the king's chamber? That is because we are here to solve several murders in the king's chamber.

He turned on them.

Runaan turned on what remained of his own squad - Skor and Andromeda. He killed them. For Rayla.

They wanted Rayla dead. In the show, they believed she should die alongside them. In the novelization Book One: Moon, they specifically wanted Runaan to kill her for failing to do her duty. Either way, if any one of Runaan's squad survived and returned to the Silvergrove to report what Runaan had done - and had not done - when his mission went pear-shaped, he would've had to kill Rayla then and there. Right in front of Ethari.

And that, mes amis, he could not abide. He could not bear to be the monster he feared he had always been, right where his husband could see him.

And so, his only remaining option was for his surviving assassins to perish in battle, with their own honor intact and his in tatters. But they went down hard.

They broke Runaan's horn. They stripped off his tunic. They nearly cut his throat. They messed up his hair. Oui, the most unforgivable.

They wanted to live. Runaan did not allow them to.

He trained them all. He loved them.

And he killed them, to save Rayla's life.

For love of Rayla, his precious daughter, Runaan of the Silvergrove killed his own assassins.

It is no wonder he could not look Keeper Lyrennus in the eye when the man asked Runaan about his son.

He's drowning in guilt. He knows what he did. Even though Ram died from another's strike, Runaan knows he would have killed him himself if he'd had to.

This image of Runaan's fear at the sight of the red spirit Lyrennus cast, it lands differently now, no?

He hasn't told them. Perhaps he never will. But he has committed this sin nonetheless, and he must carry it with him for the rest of his life.

Runaan's last and darkest secret. No wonder he accepted Callum the moment he turned against Ezran and fought his own soldiers for Rayla's sake. He knows exactly what that feels like.

[cherryblossomfairyy]

Out Of The Woods

Pairing : spencer reid x bau!reader.

Summary: Spencer and you are running from an unsub. But are you out of the woods in time to get to the hospital? Along the lyrics of the song "Out of The Woods" by Taylor Swift.

Masterlist

The cold air burned her lungs as she sprinted through the dense forest, breaths coming in ragged gasps. Branches whipped against her arms and face, but it didn’t slow her down. She couldn’t. He was behind her.

"Last December"

The night was pitch black, the moon barely visible through the thick canopy of trees. Hotch had the idea to split everybody into pairs and check the perimeters of the old farmhouse they suspected the unsub was hiding in. She glanced at Spencer, hoping they’d be paired together. Despite completely trusting his abilities, she had a huge crush on him. She loved working with him.

When Hotch said, "Pick a partner," Spencer caught her gaze and smiled. They had become fast friends after she joined the team six months ago. Being the youngest on the team and sharing similar interests, they quickly became each other's best friends. She joined Spencer at the literature festivals he normaly visited on his own. "You took a Polaroid of us." The photo now in a picture frame on his desk.

After a brief explanation from Hotch about the plan, they walked to their designated side of the property. After a couple of minutes, Spencer used his radio to tell the team their side was clear. That's when they heard the scream. Both drew their guns as Spencer used his flashlight to try to determine where it had come from.

They saw the silhouette of a running away. Spencer realized that it was the unsub. As Spencer started running, she quickly followed him, remembering the 'never split up' rule he had drilled into her. While running, she tried to warn the team that they had found the unsub and were chasing him. But all the team heard were heavy breaths and "Unsub... going south... armed..."

Hotch called everyone back to the SUVs and checked the map to figure out where the unsub might be heading. At the far end of the plot of land, to the south, was a small cabin. "Everyone, I need officers and medics on standby. They're going to the cabin."

"Two paper airplanes flying."

Trying to keep up with Spencer was more difficult than she thought. She was lost, without a flashlight, and alone with a homicidal unsub. She had done everything she was supposed to: 1) Don’t split up. 2) Warn the team. Yet, here she was, terrified and on high alert for either Spencer or the unsub. She didn't dare call for him. Had he escaped? Was he safe with the team? Or... had the unsub gotten to him first?

A sharp crack behind her sent a fresh wave of terror through her body. He was close. Too close. She still couldn't see him and had to rely on sound. Her legs burned, but she forced herself forward, stumbling over roots and fallen branches. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, as long as it was away from the unsub.

Then she saw it—a small cabin, a light hanging above its door. The windows were broken. All she thought about was safety. Maybe Spencer was there? And the rest of the team. She had done it. She had gotten out of the woods. She was in the clear. Or at least, that’s what she hoped.

She reached the door and yanked it open, slipping inside and pressing her back against the rough wood. Silence. She held her breath, straining to hear anything over the pounding of her heart.

Then—a slow crunch outside made her freeze. He was here. She had a choice to make: fight or flight. She could hear cars stopping close by—maybe the team had found her.

But before she could celebrate, the door was kicked in. The unsub charged at her with a knife. In the flickering light, she could make out his face, scarred and sunken. As the first slash came, she thought to herself that this wasn’t the last face she wanted to see before she died. Despite the pain, she drew her gun from her belt and tried to aim at him. She managed to hit his arm, but it didn’t stop him. He hit her multiple times, and she felt herself growing weaker.

She heard a loud yell—somebody calling her name. It was Spencer. He had found her. He could be the last face she saw before dying at the hands of the unsub. She tried to yell back, but her words turned into a fit of coughing. She tasted blood. She had given up. Her body couldn’t fight anymore. With the last bit of strength she grasped her necklace tight. The unsub had won. As he stood above her for the final blow—

*BANG*

And then the world turned dark—

"The rest of the world was black and white"

The headlights cut through the darkness as the ambulance sped down the empty road, the wind howling outside like a warning. His hands trembled in his lap, his heart pounding. She was unconscious. The damage done by the unsub was too much. His jaw was clenched in fear.

The wound kept bleeding faster and faster, quickly losing enough blood that Spencer was starting to hyperventilate, feeling dizzy. "Stay awake, please," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Come on, stay with us!" The paramedics worked as quickly as they could, hoping she would make it to surgery.

_________________________________

The trees still loomed in the background, their twisted branches reaching for her like fingers. The memories of the past hour clawed at her mind—running, tripping, the unsub’s hand grabbing her. The breathless panic. The feeling that something was off...

"Are we out of the woods yet?, are we out of the woods yet?, are we out of the woods yet?, are we out of the woods?" she whispered to Spencer. He turned his head slightly, his brown eyes filled with tears. "No... she never made it. He got to her first. I'm so sorry." She realized he wasn't talking to her—he was talking to Hotch. As Hotch hugged him and led him to the ambulances to get checked out, she looked down at her hands. They were pale, flaked with dried blood—her blood.

She started screaming, "Hey, help me! Look at me!" But nobody reacted. They were all gathered around a white sheet. As she approached them, she saw what they were looking at, crying for. It was her. Her dead body.

Panic set in. She realized she hadn’t made it out of the woods. The unsub, now dead—shot in the back of the head by Spencer—had killed her.

But even as she realized it, it felt unreal, impossible. This couldn’t be the end. She still had so much to do. She never went to ladies’ night with the girls. She never had shooting lessons with Hotch. She never tried Rossi’s pasta. She never trained hand-to-hand combat with Derek. She never told Spencer how she felt. She would never know if he liked her back.

_________________________________

Spencer started crying harder. She was slipping away, her heartbeat almost nonexisting. He demended he was the one to ride with her to the hospital. He never had the chance to tell her he loved her, that he would spend his life showing her how much.During the ambulance ride, Spencer began to block out all the noise. All he could focus on was her.

"Are we in the clear yet?, are we in the clear yet?, are we in the clear yet?"

He didn't know when they arrived at the hospital or how long he's been sitting in the back of the ambulance, alone. Derek came looking for him. After some yelling and waving before his face did Spencer snap out of it. Derek telling him "Reid, you're bleeding, come with me and get you checked out by the doctors". As Spencer slowly started to see that he was indeed bleeding, a cut on his forearm, shoulder and head. There was so much adrenaline pomping through his system he didn't notice until now.

Derek led him to a room to get the wounds cleaned and stitched up. Spencer was still lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t tell the difference between his blood and hers on his hands. He didn’t know where she was. Did she even make it to the operation room?

"Twenty stitches in a hospital room"

After the all-clear from the doctor, Derek and Spencer walked together to the waiting room, too scared to speak. As if talking about everythig that happened, that maybe she didn’t make it, somehow made it less real. Inside the waiting room, where the rest of the team sat, a heavy silence hung in the air. Tears filled everyone’s eyes—even Hotch. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had a soft spot for her. They all felt guilt, fear, and anger. As the "baby" of the team, they felt a responsibility toward her. And they failed. They weren’t there when she needed them.

Spencer, overwhelmed by the silence, dropped to his knees, screaming and crying, "WHY? Why her? Why not me?"

JJ rushed to Spencer, shaking him when he wouldn’t react at first. "Spence, she's in surgery. She made it to the hospital." It took a moment before Spencer processed the words. She made it. She wasn’t dead. Not yet. Despite the news, his crying didn’t stop. Yet, she wasn't dead yet. They still didn’t know if she was going to make it out of surgery. JJ slowly pulled him up and tot he chairs

After an hour a nurse walked in, and Spencer straightened up, bracing himself for the worst. JJ shot up from her chair, blurting out, "Is she okay?"

"She’s still in surgery, so I can’t say anything for sure. But she seems strong. She’s a fighter," the nurse replied. Spencer wondered how many times she had to say those words today. How many didn’t pull through.

"I will update you as soon as I have more information," the nurse said, her gaze sweeping over the team.

The news that she was still fighting helped ease the anxiety for most of them. A wave of relief swept through, but the waiting room still felt suffocating. No matter what the nurse had said, Spencer couldn’t breathe easy until he saw her again.

After four and a half grueling hours, they finally got the news Spencer had hoped—and prayed for, to every god, even if he didn’t believe in them. For her he would start.

“She survived the surgery. It was touch-and-go for a while. We were able to repair most of the damage. She’s stable now and currently in the ICU. She’ll be unconscious for at least a few hours. I can take you to see her if you’d like,” the nurse said, her voice warm.

The team all looked at Spencer, silently encouraging him to go first. "Yes. Please," Spencer said quickly.

The nurse led Spencer to her room. They stopped just before the door, and the nurse sighed. "She doesn’t look like herself right now. She’s pale, and there are a lot of tubes and cables connected to her. It can be overwhelming. It’s okay to freak out a bit. But not when she wakes up. She’ll need all the support she can get right now."

Spencer nodded, understanding what she said, but still afraid to speak. He didn’t know what he’d say to her, or how to say it, but he knew one thing: he wasn’t leaving her side.

As the nurse walked away, Spencer remained rooted to his spot. He should have been happy, overjoyed. She was here. She was alive. Yet, something held him back. Guilt. If only he had noticed her absence sooner—if he had been more vigilant, would she be in this state? He knew better. He should have known better. Splitting up had never let to a good situation. His own experience with it had almost destroyed him. How could he have been so reckless?

While drowning in guilt, Spencer remembered the nurse’s words: “She needs all the support she can get right now.” With a deep sigh, he gathered all his courage, pushing the guilt aside. He couldn’t let it consume him. He needed to be there for her. Taking a final breath, gathering all his courage and pushing the guilt aside, he opened the door.

She lay there, peaceful despite the bruises and cuts on her face. Her chest rose and fell steadily, a reminder that she was alive. The sight of her, breathing—alive—almost brought Spencer to his knees. He fell heavily into the plastic chair beside her bed, his gaze fixed on her face. Despite the injuries, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The only signs of life were the quiet breaths she took and the steady beep of the heart monitor. But for now, that was enough.

Spencer sat by her side for what felt like hours, holding her hand, hoping he’ll get the chance to look in her eyes again and tell her how he feels. He gently lifted her limp hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the cold skin. As his eyes closed, the first tear slid down his cheek, a silent symbol of the fear, relief, and love that had been building up inside him.

_________________________________

The sterile smell of antiseptic stung her nostrils as consciousness slowly returned. Her eyelids fluttered open, momentarily blinded by the bright overhead light. After a few moments, her vision adjusted to the stark whiteness of the hospital room ceiling. A soft, repetitive beep filled the room—a rhythmic pulse that was both comforting and eerily unfamiliar.

She glanced around, trying to piece together where she was and why. She felt a weight in her hand and looked down, noticing a much larger hand engulfing hers. Following the arm, she saw a familiar mop of brown curls hanging in front of his face. Spencer. He was here. He was safe.

She tried to say his name, but no words came out. Her throat was raw from the intubation during surgery. Desperation filled her, and tears welled in her eyes.

The soft sound of her crying stirred Spencer. He jolted upright, his head snapping toward her. His breath caught in his throat as their eyes finally met.

“Hey, hey, are you in pain?” Spencer asked softly, concern flooding his voice as he noticed her squeezing her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears.

She tried to say his name again, but all that came out was a harsh cough. Spencer quickly grabbed the plastic cup of water left on her bedside table and helped her take a few sips. After a couple of attempts, he tipped the cup back and placed it gently on the table. She gave him a small, grateful smile.

She tried to sit up, but her body protested—pain and nausea hit her like a wave, forcing her to collapse back onto the hospital bed.

"Spencer?" she rasped, her eyes locked on his hand. She lifted her good arm and motioned for him to come closer. His palm met hers with a gentle but firm grip.

“I’m here, you’re safe now,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her fingers. If she weren’t hooked up to all these tubes and in so much pain, he would have pulled her into a tight hug. And he would never let her go, not ever again.

She studied Spencer closely, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his appearance. His hair was unkempt, greasy, as if he had raked his hand thru it a thousand times. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin dull and irritated. He looked exhausted.

"When you started crying, baby I did too."

“How long have I been here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Five hours and twenty-nine minutes,” Spencer replied, his voice soft but steady.

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes now filled with fear. Spencer closed his eyes, like the memory pained him, and hung his head before answering. "Are we in the clear yet?"

“It should have been me,” he mumbled at the end, the words heavy with guilt.

“No,” she said firmly, the first word she had spoken with strength. She grabbed his other hand, ignoring the pain in her side. “Please. Don’t think that. It wasn’t your fault.”

After a long pause, he sighed deeply. “You don’t have to worry about me right now. We need all your energy focused on your recovery,” he added with a small, reassuring smile.

Spencer paused for a moment before continuing, his voice a little quieter. “The team is in the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”

She hadn’t even thought about the team, and a fresh wave of guilt hit her, knowing how scared they must have been. “Please. Can you call them to come? I don’t want you to leave,” she said in a small voice. Spencer felt his heart constrict at her words. She sounded so vulnerable, so scared.

“Of course I can,” he said softly.

It took less than a minute after the call for the team to arrive. A hesitant knock on the door preceded their entrance. They slowly began to fill the tiny hospital room. JJ, Penelope, and Emily, who had taken her under their wing and treated her like a little sister, immediately moved to her bedside. They gently held her hand and kissed her forehead.

“We’re so happy you’re okay,” Penelope whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she placed a small bouquet on her bedside table—her favorite flowers, of course. The women had remembered.

She had only known Hotch as a stoic man, never one to show emotion, not even in the most high-stakes situations. But here he was, his eyes red-rimmed and a small smile on his lips. He looked her over carefully before speaking, his voice softer than usual.

“We were all worried. Take as much time as you need to heal. We can always talk about working from home down the line. But it’s really good to see you pulled through.” He gave her a hand a squeeze and stepped back.

“You gave us a big scare. You can never do that again, understood?” Rossi added, trying to make light of the situation, but the pain in his voice was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes lowering. She never wanted to cause the team this kind of worry.

They all shook their heads quickly, each of them voicing the same sentiment. “It’s not your fault. You did everything you were supposed to,” Derek reassured her. The silence that followed was confirmation that everyone on the team agreed. After a few more heartfelt “get well soon!”s, the team left, leaving her and Spencer alone again.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, but after a while, she broke it, her voice soft and hesitant.

“When I thought I was going to die... I was thinking that the unsub’s face was the last thing I’d ever see. I prayed that it was yours, the last face I’d see.” Her breath hitched as she thought back to the moment. “Hearing you call my name felt like mercy. Having you as my last thought made me less scared to accept that I was going to die, I think.”

Spencer didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t have words. All he could do was hold her hand tighter and squeeze.

“I don’t know what I would do with myself if you didn’t make it. I was so scared I was going to lose you,” he confessed, tears streaming down his face. He wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket. With his free hand, he gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

She smiled faintly, her lips curving softly despite the exhaustion in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His throat tightened, and he squeezed her hand even more gently. “Of course I’m here. I’ll always be here.” The words felt too simple for everything his heart had been carrying, but they were the truth. No matter what happened, he would never leave her. Never again.

"Oh, your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn't quite forget" The necklace Spencer gifted her for her birthday. With a small stone, her birthstone. He remembered how happy she was when she opened the jewerly box. The sight of her wearing the necklace solidified his thoughts

Spencer’s eyes searched her face, as if trying to say something that had been stuck on the tip of his tongue for far too long.

"I need to tell you something."

"But when the sun came up I was looking at you"

Her pulse quickened, a flicker of worry passing through her. "What is it Spencer? You’re scaring me."

Her hand tightened around his, and she shifted slightly in the bed, though the effort seemed to drain her. She swallowed, clearly gathering her strength.

"I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I was so scared that I’d never get the chance to say it." His eyes met hers—sincere, vulnerable. "I love you, Angel. I always have. And I’ve never said it because I was scared. Scared I’d lose you, scared I wouldn’t be enough... but now, after this, I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it."

"Remember when we couldn't take the heat?"

She felt a tear slip down her cheek, her heart both breaking and mending all at once. The words she’d been holding back for so long now came pouring out, raw and honest.

"I love you too, Spencer. I always have. I just... I didn’t want to say it either. I didn’t want to risk losing you."

He leaned down, pressing a small, careful kiss to her lips, mindful of her wounds and the tubes connected to her. It was the first of many.

"Looking at it now. It all seems so simple."

[orchidniins]

oh i NEED pt 2 of Serendipitous Beginnings🙏

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 2 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N and Arthur finally spend some much time together and go on their first date. Between movie nights and cute museum dates, it's clear they've fallen hard for each other. Pairings: ArthurTV x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 6k

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed love on my first post! I wanted to write a part 2 for this with all the cute little ideas in my head. This fic is basically a little collection of events and just a little sprinkle of smut right at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist ⟡ Part 1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You awaken on Saturday, later than your usual wake-up time, feeling a faint headache throbbing behind your temples. Despite the headache, your mind is abuzz with the memories of last night's conversations with Arthur. The lingering memories of the night's events are still fresh in your mind.

As you reach for your phone, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, eager to see if Arthur had messaged you. Sure enough, his name lights up your screen, and you can't help but feel a rush of happiness as you read his message. The two of you had stayed up pretty much all night texting, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you.

Eventually, it was mutually decided to stop texting and finally catch some sleep, but now, even with maybe only two hours of sleep, you're still buzzing with excitement to keep the conversation going. You couldn't help but grin at your phone, fingers tapping out quick replies

Arthur: Hey! Morning! 😊 Arthur: Did you manage to get any sleep in? Y/N: Hey! Good Morning 😊 Y/N: Yeah, I did. Just barely. Did you sleep well? Arthur: Yeah, I managed to get a few hours in too. Couldn't stop thinking about our conversation though. Y/N: Haha, same here! I guess we'll just have to continue it in person, huh? 😉 Arthur: Did you wanna maybe grab some lunch today? Y/N: That sounds great! I'd love to. Where were you thinking? Arthur: How about that place we talked about yesterday? Y/N: Perfect! Can't wait 😊

Eagerly agreeing to meet Arthur for lunch, excitement courses through you at the thought of spending more time with him. However, as you're about to set your phone down, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You had completely forgotten about your plans with Sienna to meet up with a mutual friend who was in town for the weekend.

Y/N: Hey, Arthur! I'm so sorry, but something's come up for today. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? Arthur: Oh, no worries! Tomorrow won't work for me, I've got a shoot scheduled. Y/N: Ah, got it. No problem. Maybe another time then? Arthur: Definitely! Let's figure something out soon. 😊

After a bit more back-and-forth, the conversation trails off, leaving you feeling disappointed that your plans with Arthur didn't pan out. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and get out of bed, heading towards Sienna's bedroom to check in on her.

Entering her room, you find her sprawled out on the bed, half of her body hanging off the edge, her hair messy and makeup smeared. You try to wake her up gently, but she protests, murmuring, "No, not yet, five more minutes."

"Siii," you say, nudging her shoulder, "you know I turned down a date for this lunch today, so you better get up, or I'm gonna have to use violence." Sienna groans in response, still half-asleep, but your mention of a date piques her interest. "A date? What do you mean, a date?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open as she tries to grasp the situation.

You chuckle at her confusion. "I was just kidding, but we better make it to that café on time. You're the one who insisted we go there, even if it's a 50-minute drive from here. Now, get up." Sienna, still groggy, fixates on the idea of a date. "Okay, but what date?" she mumbles, her words slurred with sleep.

With a laugh, you shake your head and say, "Nothing, just get ready," before leaving her room to get ready yourself.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Over the next few days, despite the promise to meet up, neither you nor Arthur seemed to find the time. It had been over a week since the initial plan was made, and your schedules were keeping you both occupied. Arthur had spent a few days away from London for a shoot, while your own commitments to classes, coursework, and your TA job filled your days from dawn till dusk.

The conversation between you over text seemed to flow effortlessly though. Whether it was during breaks between classes or late at night after a long day of work, hours slipped by unnoticed as you traded stories, shared interests, and laughed at each other's jokes. Even through the screen, you felt like there was undeniable chemistry.

In person, however, it was a different story. Whenever you crossed paths with Arthur in person, whether for the few minutes you had while entering or leaving your apartment, the atmosphere became charged with a hint of awkwardness. Your face-to-face interactions were tinged with an unspoken tension. Probably owing to the fact that neither of you had addressed the hot and steamy kiss shared the other night, leaving many unanswered questions. And neither of you knew how to broach the subject, leaving the issue lingering between you like an elephant in the room.

Today, you're rushing out of your apartment, a whirlwind of activity as you stuff papers into your backpack, your mind preoccupied with the evening class you volunteered to handle for a professor.

You stand outside the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for the doors to open. As they slide open, you're about to step in when you're met with Arthur's smiling face.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you reply, mustering a smile as you step into the elevator beside him.

"How're things going?" Arthur asks, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"All good," you respond, offering a brief nod. "Just heading to TA for an evening class."

Arthur nods in understanding. "You've been pretty occupied lately, huh?"

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, well you know… Where are you off to?"

"I'm meeting some friends for a drink.", Arthur responds.

"That sounds fun," you say, though inwardly you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that your paths are diverging once again.

The elevator ride continues in silence, the awkward tension lingering between you like a thick fog. You bite your tongue, racking your brain for something to say to break the uneasy atmosphere. Finally, just as the elevator doors slide open, you blurt out, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Um, I think so," he replies, sounding intrigued.

"I was thinking of having a movie marathon," you explain, feeling a surge of nervous energy. "And I was hoping to have someone along for it."

A hint of a smile plays at the corners of Arthur's lips. "That sounds like a plan," he says, his eyes brightening with interest. "What were you thinking of watching?"

You grin, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "How about 'The Lord of the Rings'?" you suggest eagerly.

Arthur's eyes light up at the suggestion. "Yes! I love Lord of the Rings. Have you watched the extended versions? If not, we could watch those," he says, genuine excitement in his voice.

Just as excited, you reply, "Yeah! I’d love that."

"Great, sounds like a plan," Arthur confirms with enthusiasm.

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you say, "My place tomorrow? I’ll text you the time."

"Definitely. I'll see you then," Arthur replies.

With that, you bid Arthur goodbye as you step out of the elevator, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. Maybe this movie marathon would finally give you the chance to address the elephant in the room and see where things could go with Arthur. But your thoughts are interrupted by the fact that you didn't want to be late to set up for class. You wave him goodbye and head out.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Before you know it, the day of your movie night arrives. You make sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, preparing for a cozy evening. With Sienna out of the city for work till next week, you have the place all to yourself. You take the time to set up the couch with extra pillows and grab an additional blanket from Sienna's room, ensuring everything is just right for your evening with Arthur.

However, for a fleeting moment, you can't help but overthink why you're going to such lengths. It's not like this was a date, just two friends hanging out. But you quickly brush off the thought when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves, you stride over to the door and swing it open, revealing Arthur standing on the other side.

"Hey!" he greets you with a warm smile, holding up a bag of snacks. "I brought some snacks for movie night. Hope you like popcorn and chocolate!"

You return his smile, feeling relieved at the sight of him. "That's perfect! Come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter. "I've set up the living room for our movie marathon. Make yourself at home."

As Arthur steps in, you close the door behind him, trying your best to calm your nerves. Tonight was supposed to be fun, you remind yourself, a simple movie watching experience between friends. Definitely not a date, just two friends hanging out.

You settle onto the couch, gesturing for Arthur to join you. He takes off his jacket and joins you. There's a brief moment of silence as you both get comfortable, but you're determined to keep the atmosphere light.

"So, how's your week been?" you asked, turning to Arthur in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Arthur leaned back against the cushions, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Kind of busy," he replied with a chuckle. "Filming schedules have been hectic lately, but it's been pretty fun filming with my mates. How about you?"

You shrugged, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Same old, same old. Classes, TA gig, grading papers, dealing with undergrads….," You trail off, not wanting to bore him with the details of your day-to-day responsibilities.

But Arthur seems genuinely interested. "I bet you're great at it though," he says, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for his encouragement. "Haha, thanks, Arthur," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, your eyes locked with his.

As the movie progressed, you found yourselves immersed in discussing your favorite scenes and characters. The initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by an easy flow of conversation and laughter, and soon the movie became nothing more than background noise.

Before long, you realized that as the conversation flowed, you were sitting much closer to Arthur. Your knees brushed against each other as you faced one another on the couch. His arm draped over the back, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder why you had ever felt awkward around him in the first place. It felt as though the universe had conspired to bring you together. The desire to kiss him again bubbled up inside you, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

With each passing second, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the palpable tension between you, leaving you hopeful that perhaps Arthur felt the same way.

In the silence that followed, the air between you seemed charged with anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, the two of you leaned in towards each other, the space between you narrowing with each heartbeat.

His gaze met yours, "This feels familiar," Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. You couldn't help but laugh, relieved that at least one of you had acknowledged it.

"Does it now?" you replied, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "So, you do remember."

"How could I forget?" Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "It's been on my mind ever since."

As he leaned in closer, a surge of excitement coursed through you. "Well, good then," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. Without hesitation, his lips meet yours.

You shifted closer, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. With a gentle but firm grip, he pulled you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were meant to be intertwined. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

You melt into each other in a passionate kiss, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private universe. His lips were soft, moving with a rhythm that matched yours. With each brush of his lips, it sends the blood rushing down to your core.

Lost in the heat of the kiss, you pressed yourself closer to him. Tangling your hands in his soft hair, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. And you couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such intensity.

As you both caught your breath, a wave of relief washed over you, the tension that had been building between you finally dissipating. With a gentle smile, he breaks the silence, his voice soft but determined. "Let me take you on a proper date," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Okay," you chuckle softly, feeling excited at his words, a fluttering in your stomach as you look back at him. "I’m free this Friday," you reply, your voice filled with warmth. With a playful smile, you lean in and give him a little peck on the lips.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You were thrilled when Arthur suggested meeting at the history museum after class, eagerly looking forward to spending time together. You even took the extra effort to dress up a bit for the occasion. However, as you hurriedly made your way there, excitement turned to frustration as you realized you were running late. The class you were assisting in had unexpectedly extended, leaving you racing against time as the museum's closing hour approached. You quickly texted Arthur, apologizing for the delay and assured him that you were on your way, determined to make it there as soon as possible.

Y/N: Hey, sorry I'm running a bit late 😅 Y/N: Class ran over, but I'll be there soon! Arthur: No worries at all. I'm just glad you can make it Arthur: Take your time 😊

With determination, you quicken your pace, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. As you finally arrive at the museum, you spot Arthur waiting patiently outside the entrance. He looks great, dressed in a nice crewneck sweatshirt and black cargos, it makes your heart skip a beat at just how good he looked.

You hurry over to him, eager to make up for lost time. "Hey!" you exclaim, a wide smile spreading across your face as you reach him.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight at the sight of you. He opens his arms, inviting you into a warm embrace.

You gladly accept the hug, reveling in his warmth and the comforting scent of his cologne. "Sorry I'm late," you say softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze.

Arthur shakes his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. I'm just happy you're here now," he assures you, his voice filled with warmth.

You feel a surge of relief at his response. "Thanks for waiting," you say gratefully, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Arthur squeezes your hand back, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Of course, it's no problem. We can always do something else if the museum's closed," he suggests, ever the considerate gentleman, despite the museum being almost 15 mins past closing.

But you shake your head, determined not to let the evening go to waste. "No, no, just trust me on this," you insist.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Alright… I trust you," he says with a smile, willing to go along with your plan.

With a grin, you take Arthur's hand and lead him towards the side entrance of the museum. As you walk, you quickly glance at your phone to confirm the last-minute plans one final time, the ones you made on the subway over, sending a quick text message. Then, slipping your phone back into your pocket, you look up to flash Arthur a smile, and he returns it with warmth in his eyes.

You head to the side entrance and spot your friend. Waving enthusiastically, you exchange greetings and shake hands, expressing your gratitude once again. "Thank you again, I owe you big time," you say appreciatively.

"Not a problem at all," your friend responds warmly as he lets the two of you in "Anything for a friend. Just make sure to leave before 8 p.m."

You nod in agreement and turn to Arthur, excitement bubbling within you as you lead him inside. His curious gaze prompts you to explain the situation. "That guy was an old graduate advisor of mine," you begin, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "He's works here as a curator now."

Arthur's eyes widen with interest as he looks around, taking in the museum's atmosphere. "I have to say… that’s quite impressive," he remarks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, his job's pretty cool," you reply, nodding in agreement.

But Arthur interrupts you before you can say anything further. "No, not that… you. You are quite surprising… in a good way," he adds with a playful smirk, his hand still holding yours. You feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks at his compliment.

You chuckle softly, feeling shy at his words, "Just give me more time to impress you further with my wildly interesting mind," you playfully quip, unable to contain the grin that spreads across your face.

Arthur's smile widens in response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he admires your playful banter.

Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you reply, "Anyways, we have two hours now… best not waste any time," as you pull him towards the main hall.

The museum is bathed in the soft glow of a few lights, casting a gentle ambiance over the now empty hall. Excitement courses through you as you eagerly lead Arthur around, pointing out each exhibit with enthusiasm. Arthur listens intently, his eyes filled with genuine interest as he witnesses how passionate you sound.

With each second passing, he finds himself increasingly impressed by just how intelligent you are, finding himself melting at each of your words.

He often found himself just looking at you, mesmerized by your beauty, and sometimes forgetting to even glance at the displays. It still felt surreal to him that you were here with him right now.

"You know," you share, a hint of nostalgia coloring your voice, "when I was a kid, my dad used to bring me here whenever he had work in the city. He’d always bring me along with him."

"It's always been one of my favorite places in London," you conclude with a smile.

Arthur smiles warmly, his admiration evident as he responds, "I can see why."

As the two of you continue to explore the halls, the world outside the museum fades away, leaving you in your own private sanctuary. Stolen glances, brushes of hands, and a shared electricity fill the air, making this the most enjoyable date you've ever had.

As the evening progresses, you find yourselves completely immersed in each other's company, sharing stories and laughing without a care in the world. Arthur's admiration for you grows with each passing moment, his heart feeling lighter in your presence. Lost in the magic of the moment, you both find yourselves laughing and running around the museum halls, creating memories that will last a lifetime. Arthur captures candid photos of you, the echoes of your laughter filling the empty corridors.

Caught up in the magic of the moment, Arthur can't help but stare at you with admiration, his eyes drinking in your beauty. You stand before a display of jade artifacts, leaning closer to examine the intricate details, while sharing a story about a similar find or an excavation you volunteered on last year. "This is fascinating, isn’t it?" you remark, turning to Arthur with a sparkle in your eyes.

As you await his response, you're met with a lingering gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. Feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks, you can't help but inquire with a small chuckle, "What?"

"You know," he begins, his voice soft with sincerity, "you're absolutely stunning."

You chuckle at his compliment, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "Oh, stop it," you tease, playfully nudging him. "You're not so bad yourself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression filled with genuine affection. "I mean it," he insists, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're truly amazing."

You meet his gaze, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you joke, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I must say, you're not so bad at dishing out compliments either." You pause, your tone softening. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Anytime," he replies, his hand squeezing yours gently. "I just call it like I see it."

With a contented sigh, you fully face him now, reveling in the comfortable silence that envelops you both. The quiet of the museum amplifies the intimacy of the moment, and you find yourself drawn to Arthur, his presence filling you with warmth and affection.

Arthur leans in closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls away slightly, his breath tickling your skin.

You smile back at him, your cheeks flushed as your hand finds the back of his head, gently pulling him closer. As your lips meet his, you eagerly return the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. In that moment, nothing else matters, not caring about the passing time or potential interruptions.

As you reluctantly pull away, a soft smile plays on your lips. "It's getting late," you murmur, glancing at your watch. "A lot later than we were supposed to stay."

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's head back," he suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"But hey, how about we grab dinner on the way back?" you suggest, a playful glint lighting up Arthur's eyes as he nods eagerly.

With a smile, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers as you make your way out of the museum. As you walk, you take a moment to text your friend, expressing your gratitude for letting the two of you sneak in and apologizing for overstaying your welcome.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

After leaving the museum, the two of you walked a few blocks to a cozy restaurant nearby, to grab some food before you sadly had to end your date. The warm glow of the restaurant's interior welcomed you as you stepped inside, finding a quiet corner to enjoy your meal together.

As you savored each bite and shared lighthearted conversation, it became evident that neither of you were quite ready to end the evening just yet. With a reluctant sigh, you eventually found yourselves back in the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you stood side by side, nerves buzzing beneath the surface. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you finally turned to Arthur, your voice tinged with nervousness. "Do you want to come back to mine?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

Arthur's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he nodded his head, his own nerves evident.

He had been to your place before, but tonight felt different, the stakes somehow higher, or perhaps that was just the horny part of his brain taking over. He wanted nothing more than to be glued by your side, yet he also wanted to be respectful of your boundaries, especially after the wonderful time you had today.

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he tried to ease the tension. "I'd love to," he replied with a slight voice crack. You couldn't help but laugh, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably, joined by his as you both shared in the moment, breaking the tension that had settled between you.

As soon as you and Arthur step into your apartment, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you both in the intimate glow of the dimly lit space. The air feels somewhat thicker, and though you had spent quite a cute and romantic evening, all you could think about was just how much you wanted him right now.

As if on autopilot, your body moves on its own accord. You close the distance between you in an instant, pressing your lips against his. Your hands instinctively find their way to his firm chest, while his slowly rise to grasp your waist, pulling you closer as you usher him further into the apartment. The kiss is hungry and urgent, reflecting the desire between you two.

You continue to kiss each other, your lips locked in a fervent kiss. Occasionally, you break apart just long enough to catch your breath. As the heat between you grows, your hands roam eagerly.

In the midst of your passionate exchange, you manage to breathe out a whispered "Bedroom," your warm breath grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Without hesitation, you both stumble together towards the bedroom, both of you equally as eager.

Once you're in your bedroom, you guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, your movements fluid and confident. You position yourself between his legs, feeling the heat radiating from his body as his hands find their place on your hips, pulling you closer.

You lean in, capturing his lips again, igniting a fiery passion between you. His hands trail up the back of your shirt, leaving tingles in their wake as you deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft, fluffy hair.

With newfound boldness, his hands move down to your ass, giving it a teasing squeeze that sends a jolt of electricity through you, before he trails his hands down to the back of your thighs.

Arthur pulls you onto his lap, a low hum escaping his lips as you shuffle over his growing arousal. You bite down on his bottom lip, a gasp escaping you as you feel the hardness beneath his clothes. "God, Arthur," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire as his hands continue to knead the soft flesh of your thighs.

As your shirts come off in the heat of the moment, your hands eagerly explore his body, tracing every contour and eliciting soft groans from him. His mouth and tongue muffle your shuddering gasp as you grind yourself against his clothed crotch, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Your kisses grow more passionate, tongues intertwining, exploring each other's mouths desperately.

You pant out his name, your body overtaken by the intense sensation, but Arthur suddenly pulls away from the kiss and grips your hips firmly, halting your movements. Confusion clouds your expression, wondering if this wasn't what he wanted after all.

He notices the flicker of self-doubt in your eyes, his hand instinctively reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his smile as reassuring as ever. "Don't worry, darling," he begins, his voice gentle yet earnest. "I love what we're doing, don’t get me wrong…big fan of sex, and you are incredibly sexy. But I just want to make sure you know that I like you very much, Y/n. I mean, really like you. This is more than just something physical for me. I love spending time with you, and I think you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the opportunity to lay my eyes on."

You melt at his heartfelt words, a blush creeping up on your cheeks at his sincerity. Arthur's genuine expression reassures you, his intent clear as day. It's endearing how he takes the time to ensure there's no doubt in your mind about his feelings.

You reach for his face, holding it gently between your hands as you stare deeply into his captivating eyes. "I really like you too, you know," you admit, sincerity echoing in your voice. "I don't just jump into bed with any odd guy." A smile dances on your lips as you share a brief moment of understanding, sealing it with a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

As you pull back, his fingers linger on your waist for a few seconds, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin in a sweet, tingling sensation.

As you resume kissing, your hands begin to trail down to the button of his trousers, starting to undo them. But once again, Arthur stops you, gently pulling away from your embrace. "Wait," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Lay down on your back for me."

You comply, as Arthur gently moves you off of him, the anticipation building as you settle onto the bed, watching intently as Arthur moves closer. With ease, he helps you slide off your jeans and panties, his touch sending tingles down your spine, each moment feeling more intimate than the last.

Once you're fully exposed before him, Arthur takes a moment to admire the sight before him, his gaze filled with desire and admiration. He begins to remove his own clothes, his movements deliberate yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

The atmosphere in the room shifted from one of urgency and desperation to something lighter and sweeter. He leaned over you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he positioned himself between your legs. With one hand resting softly on your hip and the other providing support beside you, he lowered his head to spread kisses along your body. Each touch of his lips spreads a heat throughout your body, making you even wetter than you already were.

As his lips found their way to your breast, a soft sigh escaped your lips. Arthur's mouth moved with a practiced rhythm, his movements calculated to elicit the sweetest of moans from you. With each kiss and gentle suckle, he drew out your pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

His lips trailed from your breast to your neck, peppering delicate kisses along the sensitive skin. Finding a spot that made you gasp and arch your back, he lingered there, his ministrations drawing out a deep, primal moan from deep within you. He had surely left a mark, something that you would have to worry about covering up tomorrow.

Arthur shifts slightly, supporting himself as he rises, granting you an enticing view of his hard cock. With a few quick pumps of his hand, he looks at you, both your eyes glazed with undeniable lust. Without a word, he poses the question, "Condom?"

Your body slightly moves to the side and your hand reaches instinctively to the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a foil packet. You tear it open, pulling out the condom. As you carefully slide it down his throbbing length, a soft groan escapes him, his body responding eagerly to your gentle touch.

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as the two of you lock eyes, dark with desire. You search his eyes for any hint of hesitation or doubt, but all you find is pure admiration reflected back at you. And in that moment, there was no need for words, you knew how much you craved each other.

He gently rubs the tip of his cock against you. Your eyes shut tight, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the sensation of his cock exploring your wet folds.

Arthur's voice breaks through the haze of desire as he asks, "Ready?" You nod eagerly in response, your body craving the intimate connection that only he can provide. With a gentle thrust, he enters you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders for support, while his hands firmly grasp your hips, guiding each rhythmic movement with care.

You pant out his name between breathy moans, the sound reverberating in the air as he continues to thrust into you. "Arthur," you gasp.

He pauses, his movements slowing, and he looks down at you with genuine concern. "Is this okay?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. In that moment, the connection between you felt deeper than mere physicality and it all started to feel more intimate and meaningful.

He waits for your response, his breath mingling with yours as he gazes into your eyes. When you nod in affirmation, a wave of relief washes over his face. With a tender smile, he resumes his movements, each stroke of his cock against you more passionate and deliberate than the last.

Arthur murmurs, "Y/N, you feel absolutely amazing, darling," as he grunts with each slow thrust, a subtle force behind each movement now, hitting your sweet spot deliciously.

You grip his shoulders tighter, your voice a low moan. "Fuck, Arthur."

Your moans and grunts intertwine, echoing throughout the empty apartment as the two of you become lost in each other.

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his movements still steady as he continues to pleasure you. A soft smile graces his lips as he whispers, "You're so beautiful, Y/N," planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your mind swims in a sea of pleasure, every sensation heightened as you surrender to the moment.

Arthur maintains his pace, gradually speeding up as the intensity between you heightens. Each movement feels like a perfect fit, as if your bodies were made to intertwine in this exact moment. As you feel your orgasm approaching, you can't help but release a string of uncontrollable moans, "Shit, Arthur, I'm close."

Arthur slows his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense with each movement. You can feel him filling you completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Me too," he responds breathlessly, his arousal evident in his voice, matching the urgency in yours.

Moments later, Arthur reaches his peak, his release triggering your own. You cry out into the crook of his neck as waves of ecstasy wash over you, your bodies trembling in the aftermath of shared pleasure.

Both of you are left as absolute panting messes, your bodies still intertwined. His lips move across your face, peppering tender kisses everywhere, trailing down to your neck where he places a kiss at the mark he had previously left.

Gently, he pulls out of you and excuses himself momentarily. He returns with a wet towel from the bathroom, carefully cleaning you up before tossing the towel aside. A gentle peck on your lips follows, his affectionate gesture speaking volumes.

Settling into the spot next to you, he pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "I'm so lucky to have met you," he murmurs softly, his words laced with sincerity. He places a sweet peck on your forehead, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up with you as sleep begins to overtake you.

You snuggle closer, a contented smile gracing your lips. "No you have no idea how lucky I am," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. With a final sigh of contentment, you drift off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who sends in requests. I appreciate all of you so much. I have about 6 works in my drafts right now that I am working on getting out as quickly as possible.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[lowytavis]

*the future king and his secret* Aaric Graycastle Part 2

Part 1 here Warnings: same as in part 1

__________

"They're all staring at us, Aaric," said (Y/N). "Let them," I grinned. "I'm dancing with the most beautiful girl at the ball. A little jealousy will do these noble snobs some good."

She laughed heartily. "Look at Higgins—his face is as red as a tomato. He’s going to kill you later." I smirked.

"Let him try messing with the king first." She grinned. Hours passed. Sometimes I danced with (Y/N), and sometimes she was stolen from my arms by some noble fool trying his luck, while I was left dancing with yet another potential future queen. Annoying, but Higgins insisted. ____

I excused myself from the event, grabbed my friends—including (Y/N)—and we headed to one of the halls that was off-limits to the others. "Quite the show you put on, Aaric," Violet said, her cheeks flushed from all the dancing. A bead of sweat ran down Xaden’s forehead as well. "I have to admit, even I’m enjoying it," Imogen said, and Garrick pressed a kiss to her cheek. Oh, that was new, I thought to myself. Dain and Sloane had left earlier. Sloane was completely wasted—I’ve never seen her that drunk before. She made a whole scene, demanding to know why Dain wouldn’t just have a quick fuck right then and there. Absolutely hilarious. Dain didn’t even argue, just threw her over his shoulder and carried her off.

He never came back, probably passed out… or giving his fiancée exactly what she wanted.

Ridoc had (Y/N) in his arms.

She had also indulged a bit too much. "Lovely one here coming to bed with me tonight," Ridoc said to me, beaming. "Not a chance," I replied, pressing my lips together. If there was one thing I wouldn’t allow, it was that.

"She’s her own person, Aaric," Ridoc grumbled, completely wasted.

Oh god, could no one keep it together tonight? I ran a hand over my forehead, thinking of a way to get Ridoc away from her.

Then, an idea struck me—Lilian. Lilian was unbelievably annoying but also unbelievably beautiful.

"Ridoc, let me keep my childhood friend intact. I’ve got someone else for you to charm. You’ll like her. And I’m pretty sure she’ll like you too." Lilian had always loved bold men. She had tried her luck with my eldest brother until his passing—and even hit on my father once. She was basically the female version of Ridoc.

"But I want (Y/N)!" he whined like a child. "(Y/N) is off-limits, Ridoc. End of discussion." I turned away and called, "Higgins! Fetch Lady Weysler. I have someone I’d like to introduce to her." (Y/N) had fallen asleep in Ridoc’s arms by now.

I carefully lifted her up while Higgins introduced Lilian to Ridoc—and vice versa. As expected, they hit it off immediately, and not even five minutes later, they were already making out in a corner.

I sighed, exchanging a glance with Xaden.

A quick nod, and we made our way to our chambers—him with Violet, and me carrying (Y/N).

"Breakfast is at nine," I called after him before Sir Thomlys, my personal guard, shut the door behind us.

"Alright, sleepyhead," I whispered to her, "time to get ready for bed."

She mumbled something unintelligible to herself and stretched her arms out towards me.

"What do you want from me, sugar?" I laughed.

"Should I help you out of your dress?" I asked, gently stroking her arm. She murmured a soft "yes" and let her body fall onto the bed.

As I helped her out of the dress, I couldn't help but admire her beautiful body.

It wasn't as toned as the women from Basgiath, but that made her even more special in a way.

The feminine curves, the small scar on her back, her tousled hair—she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, even with the drool trickling from her mouth onto my pillow.

I had to laugh, which unfortunately woke her up.

"What's wrong, Aaric?" she mumbled, her eyes glassy and half-naked. "Why am I naked? God, this dress was so tight," she grinned.

"Feeling sober, Princess?" I asked with a smirk.

"Princess," she laughed, "how wrong does that sound?"

"I think it sounds just right," I said with a devilish grin and scooted into bed with her.

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - XVI

Chapter XVI: Done For

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x fem! Reader . Warnings: None . Notes: I honestly wanted to make this chapter longer, but then I decided I would just do Done For from Ody's perspective and There Are Other Ways directly in the next chapter. I hope you guys aren't mad about it 👉👈. Take this as more of a setup for what's about to go down next chapter. I also feel like it was overall pretty rushed, but if I'm completely honest, I love writing, but I'm sick of looking at words—they don't make sense anymore.

Previous chapter │ Next chapter

Masterlist

Night had begun to settle on the beachside.

The sky bled from deep blue to black, the first stars flickering into existence. The waves whispered against the shore, gentle yet restless, a rhythm that should have been calming. But to the men, it wasn't. The sound of rustling leaves, the occasional snap of a twig in the underbrush—it all felt eerie, unnatural. Like the island itself was watching them. Waiting.

Despite this, exhaustion had won over fear.

Most of the men left behind had already settled into uneasy sleep, stretched out on the sand or slumped against fallen logs. They were still on edge, still terrified of what had happened—of what was still happening. Would their captain return? Would their comrades? Or would they be next to vanish into that cursed forest? There were no answers, only waiting.

Eurylochus sat perched on the stump of a fallen tree, his back to the men. His gaze was fixed on the path Odysseus had disappeared down hours ago.

One elbow rested on his knee, holding his head up, his mind was elsewhere. His right leg bounced rapidly, an unconscious movement, but one that betrayed him. Every so often, his eyes flickered away—searching, expecting, hoping—only to be met with empty shadows.

Polites watched him from a distance, arms crossed over his chest. He had known Eurylochus for years, long enough to recognize when he was lost in thought.

Any other time, he might've teased him—maybe snuck up on him just for the fun of watching him startle. But tonight, there was no room for laughter.

Because while the others had tried to rest, Polites had been thinking.

Thinking about their comrades. About how many they had already lost. About how many more they might lose. And then, finally, about Odysseus and you.

What if something had happened to you both?

What if Odysseus hadn't been able to face Circe alone? What if she had been stronger, smarter? What if you had fallen into the same fate as the rest?

And then—a memory surfaced.

He remembered being younger, following after Odysseus into the woods with you and Eurylochus, just to catch glimpses of him training with Athena.

And suddenly, the answer hit him like a flash of lightning.

They couldn't just wait.

Before he had fully processed the idea, his legs were already moving.

He sprinted toward Eurylochus.

The sheer sound of his footsteps snapped the other man out of his thoughts.

Eurylochus' head whipped toward him, alarm flashing in his eyes. "What happened?" His voice was sharp, already scanning the other men for signs of danger or something going wrong.

Polites skidded to a stop, breathless.

"We have to go."

Eurylochus blinked, his expression shifting from concern to confusion. "I'm sorry?" He turned fully to face him, brows furrowing.

"We have to go." Polites repeated, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "They have been gone for too long. We should follow them—see if they need help."

Eurylochus' face hardened. "No."

"But—"

"No, Polites." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "We can't just march in there. We don't know what we're walking into. And if I disobey Odysseus' orders and everything goes wrong again, he'll have my head. I am not willing to risk several years of friendship over this."

Polites crossed his arms. "What if they're in danger?"

Eurylochus clenched his jaw. "That's exactly why we shouldn't go."

"That's exactly why we should."

Eurylochus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "And what if we get turned into pigs?"

"What if we don't?"

Eurylochus glared at him. "Who will watch over the men if we leave?"

"They're too exhausted to do anything." Polites countered. "And our ship is still in ruins. Where would they even go?"

Silence.

Eurylochus hated that he had a point.

Still, he wasn't convinced. He shook his head, voice tight with frustration. "Let's say, somehow, we manage to sneak into the palace and then out again with everyone else. What then?" He gestured vaguely. "They're still pigs. And in case it has escaped your attention, none of us are magical."

Polites hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"She'll find us in less than a day." Eurylochus continued, voice low. "And then? We're all dead."

Polites paused. He hadn't exactly thought that far ahead.

After a moment, he straightened, clearing his throat. "We'll talk to her."

Eurylochus stared in disbelief. "Talk to her." He repeated.

"Yes." Polites nodded confidently. "We'll tell her this was all a misunderstanding—"

"A misunderstanding?!"

"—and that we mean no harm!"

Eurylochus let out a sharp, humorless laugh. He wished it were that simple.

"She turned men into pigs, Polites." He deadpanned. "Do you honestly think she's interested in having a heart to heart with us?"

"Well, we won't know unless we try!"

Eurylochus opened his mouth, ready to shut him down once and for all.

But then—

"Alright, then." Polites said, tone suspiciously nonchalant. "I'll just go myself."

He grinned, the type of grin that meant he already knew Eurylochus would follow.

Then he turned and started walking toward the tree line.

And for the first few steps, his confidence remained unshaken.

Then, gradually, it wavered.

As he got farther away, his own words began to sink in.

He was really going to walk into a witch's lair alone.

Eurylochus sat there, watching him disappear into the dark, battling with himself.

Stay. Go. Stay. Go. Stay. Go. Stay. Go. Stay.

Damn it all.

"Wait!"

Polites stopped, turning back.

Eurylochus let out a long, suffering sigh, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself up.

He strode over to the pile of weapons that had formed after the men discarded them and plucked a sword from it, his fingers curling around the hilt as if it might give him strength.

Then he grabbed a second one.

Polites' grin widened.

Eurylochus shoved the spare sword at him. "You don't even know where the palace is."

Polites took it happily. "Guess it's a good thing you're coming with me."

Eurylochus grumbled something under his breath, but at this point, there was no turning back.

As they started toward the palace, he gave himself a thousand reasons why this was the worst decision of his life.

And yet, he kept walking.

──────🐷──────

You could feel the heat of the pottage spreading through your body.

Maybe it was the carelessness of not blowing on it before shoveling it into your mouth, too desperate to care. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't had a proper warm meal in so long that your body almost rejected it, unfamiliar with the sensation.

One would think that, at the rate you were eating, you wouldn't have time to savor the taste.

But in truth, it was so flavorful that you were confident you could pick out every ingredient—the richness of cheese, a hint of honey for sweetness, and the faintest trace of wine, buried beneath the rest.

Across from you, Circe watched.

Her own bowl sat mostly untouched compared to yours—not that she wasn't eating at all, just taking slow, measured bites.

She was too focused on you.

There was amusement in her gaze, a flicker of something almost impressed.

"I take it you like it, dear?"

Still with a mouthful, you only gave her a muffled "Mhm" with your mouth closed, nodding slightly.

She giggled, her eyes scrunching in delight. "I'm glad."

You were finally relaxed enough to take in your surroundings.

The room was quiet.

No one else but you, Circe, and a few nymphs sitting off to the side, engaged in soft conversation as they ate their own meals.

Your stomach twisted.

Your mind drifted back to the men you had arrived with—the ones who had vanished into the palace.

A small part of you, stubborn and hopeful, still clung to the idea that they were okay. That Circe had helped them, the same way she had helped you.

But her earlier words made that hard to believe.

You swallowed, pushing past the unease, and forced yourself to speak. Dancing around the subject wouldn't get you anywhere.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Circe tilted her head, giving you a mocking sort of smile. "Of course."

You took a breath.

"The men that came in earlier," You began carefully. "where are they?"

The reaction was instant.

Circe let out a sharp, delighted laugh—loud enough to startle the nymphs nearby. They turned to look at her, but she paid them no mind.

You didn't react, only staring back at her, your expression making it clear you were waiting for an actual answer.

"Oh, you're serious." Her laughter faded into something almost pitying, though not for long—her smile returned. "I thought it was obvious, dear."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

She hummed, resting her head against her palm. "Right... You and your questions."

With a slow, almost lazy motion, she traced the rim of her bowl with her index finger, as if toying with it.

"You see..." She mused. "Sometimes, men are just... how to put it...?"

She pretended to search for the right word, but you both knew she had already chosen it.

"Pigs."

Your breath caught.

She gave a light, casual shrug. "And sometimes, they need a little help from people like me to show them their true forms."

The words sank in like a stone.

The pigs. The ones you had seen before—the one that had run to you, panicked, desperate. He had been trying to ask for help. Circe had drugged them. She had turned them into pigs.

Your stomach churned.

"Oh."

It was all you managed.

Circe grinned.

"Oh." She mimicked, giddy—as if she might burst into laughter at any moment.

Your eyes darted to your own bowl, and suddenly, the taste in your mouth wasn't comforting anymore.

Your heart hammered. "Was there..."

You pointed to your food, dreading the answer.

Circe snorted. "Oh, in Olympus' name, no." She giggled at your paranoia, clearly enjoying herself.

You exhaled, barely registering the relief before forcing out your next words.

"...Is there a way to—?" She didn't even let you finish.

"None that is of your interest, no."

Silence.

A slow, creeping realization settled into your bones. You had to get out of here. Find a way to fix this. Find Odysseus. Tell him everything. Let Eurylochus say I told you so right to your face and just take it.

Your thoughts raced.

You started to think you should have listened to him.

But at the same time...

This wasn't impossible, right?

It wasn't like you were dealing with some terrifying, unstoppable monster.

In the grand scheme of things, this wasn't that bad.

Right?

...Right.

You could handle this.

You just needed to think.

How would you approach the situation? And you hated to even think about it but how would your brother approach it?

Running was out of the question. The palace was crawling with nymphs and lions—you wouldn't make it five feet.

Brute force? Also out. Even if you did try, Circe's magic was stronger.

Which left you one option.

Play along. Wait for an opening. If you were lucky, you'd get a chance to slip away at night.

You sat up straighter.

Your expression softened.

You forced your voice into something gentler, more sincere.

"About what you proposed to me earlier..."

Circe's gaze sharpened.

"My patience is starting to wear thin, dear." She warned, clearly expecting you to ask to leave again.

You shook your head quickly. "I apologize. I've... thought about it."

And then, you lied through your teeth.

"You were right."

Circe's eyebrows lifted, intrigued.

"I will stay." You continued smoothly, preparing to put on the performance of a lifetime—just like you used to do back home, whenever you needed to worm your way out of trouble.

"I must thank you," You added, placing a hand over your heart. "for opening my eyes."

Circe's lips curled.

She lifted her goblet.

"A toast to that."

──────🐷──────

You had been escorted to a room to spend the night—or, according to them, several nights, possibly even the rest of your life.

The room was spacious and undeniably beautiful. From the looks of it, you would be sharing it with another person. You soon learned that your roommate would be Aora—the very same one who had helped you get there in the first place.

Two beds stood on opposite sides of the room, their footboards facing each other. They weren't just beds; they were works of art. Intricate designs had been carefully carved into the wooden frames by hand, depicting twisting vines and delicate blossoms. Real plants wove through the carvings, their leaves curling over the edges and flowers blooming in soft, luminous colors. Between the beds was a large window, its glass unshuttered, allowing the moonlight to pour in without restraint. The pale silver glow illuminated the room just right, making everything look almost ethereal, as if you had stepped into a dream rather than a prison.

Aora showed you which bed was yours, bid you goodnight, and slipped under the covers, quickly surrendering to sleep.

You reached up, carefully plucking the flower Circe had placed behind your ear earlier. As you rolled it between your fingers, its petals felt impossibly soft, like silk, with a faint warmth lingering from where it had been tucked against your skin. The scent was subtle yet intoxicating, something between honey and the earth after rain. You set it beside your bed, exhaling slowly.

For the most part, your time in the room was spent tossing and turning, unable to settle. Frustrated, you gave up and started scanning your surroundings, waiting for a moment when the hallways might be less occupied. As your eyes adjusted, you took note of a few small belongings scattered around Aora's side of the room—personal trinkets that hinted at who she was beyond being one of Circe's followers. A small wooden comb lay near her pillow, its teeth worn from use. A bundle of dried herbs was carefully tied with a thin ribbon, placed near a simple but elegant dagger, its hilt wrapped in deep green leather. There was also a collection of tiny, smooth stones stacked in an almost meditative formation on the windowsill, each one a different shade, polished by the sea.

Your gaze drifted to the window. Aora was fast asleep, so it wasn't difficult to shift quietly, propping yourself up to get a better view outside. The stars were partially hidden behind the dense canopy of leaves, their light flickering through the gaps like whispers of something just out of reach. Still, you could map them in your mind with ease. You had spent so many nights memorizing the constellations that even without a clear view, you knew exactly where each one should be.

Minutes passed. Maybe more.

Finally, you gathered enough confidence to move. Your heart pounded as you slid out of bed, carefully placing your feet on the cool stone floor. You tried to calm every nerve, inhaling slowly as you moved toward the door. Each step was measured, each breath deliberate. You pressed against the wood, barely nudging it open before slipping through, letting it close behind you without a sound.

The corridors were quiet. You moved as swiftly and silently as possible, rounding a corner—only to freeze at the sound of hurried footsteps. You ducked behind a pillar just as a nymph rushed past, breathless, making a beeline for who you assumed was Circe.

"There's someone nearing the walls." She said, voice hushed but urgent. "I saw them through one of the windows."

Your pulse quickened. Someone outside? Could it be one of the men left behind? Eurylochus, maybe? Had he grown tired of waiting? Oh, gods—you had forgotten about him. Was he still okay?

Or... what if it was your brother?

That thought sent a shiver through you. If it was Odysseus, this could either be the most helpful thing that could happen—or an absolute disaster.

Before you could decide what to do, a voice whispered directly into your ear.

"Oh, what are we sneaking around for?"

You nearly died on the spot.

The voice was not discreet in the slightest—it might as well have been a battle cry for how much it startled you. You stumbled backward, letting out an embarrassingly undignified yelp, and nearly toppled over. But before you could hit the ground, a hand caught yours and—rather than simply steadying you—spun you back onto your feet with a dancer's effortless grace.

"Am I that ugly?" The figure before you asked, grinning ear to ear despite the self deprecating words.

Your vision spun for a moment before you pieced together what you were looking at—the traveler's cloak, the winged sandals, the hat.

Hermes.

Your stomach dropped. Why was Hermes here? What could he possibly want?

"Hermes?" you asked, completely and genuinely confused.

"Ding ding ding!" He tapped your forehead three times, punctuating each touch with a smug little sound.

"Why are you here?"

He sighed dramatically. "It's always, 'Oh, Hermes, why are you here?' 'Hermes, what is that?' 'Stop that, Hermes.' But no one ever says, 'Hello, Hermes, nice to meet you, how are you?'"

You hesitated. "...How are yo—"

"No, no. It's too late now. Doesn't count." He folded his arms, feigning offense, though it was painfully obvious he wasn't actually mad. Not that you had any intention of testing a god's patience right now.

An awkward silence followed. Well... awkward for you. Hermes, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

Finally, he got bored of waiting for you to ask again and decided to answer the original question. "But, if you must know—" He uncrossed his arms and casually placed his hands on your shoulders, steering you forward. Or—wait. Was he even walking? No, he wasn't touching the ground. His winged sandals kept him hovering a few inches above the stone, moving with effortless ease.

That's when you realized something else. In the chaos of running into him, you had completely lost track of Circe. The palace was a maze, and your chances of finding her now? Essentially impossible.

"I came for some good old fashioned entertainment," Hermes continued. "But then I saw a little rascal sneaking around and got curious." What little you could see of his eyes glinted mischievously. "Tell me, darling, why are you here?"

You hesitated but ultimately explained your situation. The moment you mentioned your brother, Hermes smacked his forehead. "Oh, duh! How could I miss that?"

You were about to ask what he meant by that, but before you could, the two of you rounded a corner—

And came face to face with a lion.

The massive creature was locked in place, its tail flicking wildly, muscles tensed. Its amber eyes burned into yours, unblinking. You didn't dare move.

Hermes, however, looked unimpressed. With a sigh, he reached into his satchel and rummaged through it, muttering, "Hold on... I know I have it somewhere..."

"Are you seriously—?!" You hissed, barely holding back panic.

"Ah-ha!" He pulled out a small bundle of something—herbs? Dried leaves? Whatever it was, the lion's ears twitched, its nostrils flaring. Then, miraculously, it relaxed, lowering its body onto its haunches.

Hermes lowered himself and sprinkled the herbs onto the ground. As soon as he did, the lion leaned in, purring softly, as if trying to sink into the scent.

"See? Lots of tricks up my sleeves," Hermes said smugly, dusting off his hands.

"You don't have sleeves." He just waved a dismissive hand at you.

Before you could argue, a deep, guttural growl echoed through the halls. Hermes' head snapped toward the source, then he let out an exaggerated groan.

"Oh! We're late!"

And without another word, he grabbed you under the arms and—like it was the most natural thing in the world—lifted you off the ground and shot forward at an absolutely terrifying speed.

. Taglist: @permanently-nothere @lemonberryberry @supernatural-bangtanboys @doodle-with-rhy @yonkersworld @pookiezme @keikeiluvyou @hornehlittleweeblet2

[ghostbustting]

hi! could i request '98-'99 james being submissive with his girl and she rides him and she leaves lipstick marks ALLLLL over his face while doing it and he's like begging and stuff

sorry if it sounds weird, english is not my first language and i tried to explain as best as i could. thank u !

HSBWUSNSYWNSHWUS goodness me..

╰┈➤“𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺„ ๋࣭⭑

James Hetfield x Reader

Contains smut.

”F-fuck.. please..”

Soft whined out curses continue to spill out of his dirty mouth I have managed to take control over for tonight. If I hadn’t give in to this filthy idea, perhaps like before, I wouldn’t have known how much of a slut Metallica’s legendary James Hetfield would be underneath a woman.

Specifically me, which in this case he claimed I was the first and only one he will ever let do this to him.

My hips moved in a loop, lifting up and falling back down on him, letting his cock enter and shift out of me again and again, a feeling I’ve grown to be obsessed with by now ever since our relationship started.

But tonight, I was introduced to something new. Something I haven't been shown yet before.

The way his head was thrown back, the way soft needy whimpers of my name leaves his lips, the way his legs would shake a little whenever I let his cock slip out of my hole, the way his desperate wide eyes look right into mine, the way he plead for me to finish all of him.

As I sink back onto him, my body leans down to his, hands lightly caressing his chest while my lips press kisses over his face, painting his skin with the kiss marks of my cherry red lipstick while my hips were completely still, making him let out yet more pleads.

James let out a huff, his hands reaching out and trying to grab both of my hips with the intention so that he can guide me up and down on his cock, but of course I wasn’t going to let him do that tonight.

I grabbed both of his hands and swat them away from my hips, eventually bringing them above his head forcefully, locking them together to stay still.

A soft whine leaves his swollen lips that were red from my lipstick as well, “Baby, please.. just move..” He grunted, blue eyes rolled to the back of his head as he desperately tried to thrust his hips up into mine.

Yet instead of giving in, I took my hands off his, placing them on his hips instead to push them down, keeping them still from thrusting up. “Fuck fuck please!!” He groaned out.

I let out a cocky laugh, smirking down at him, a similar look I’d receive from him many nights before.. “Gee, watch your language, will you?” I say before slowly lifting my hips up and sinking back down into him, watching closely as his face relaxed and a relieved sigh leave his lips.

”I’m sorry— thank you..” The man beneath me softly mumble, a small moan following close after his words.

Small moans leave my own lips, creating a perfect melody along with his own moans. My hands were placed on his chest while my hips never stopped moving up and down his shaft, practically bouncing on top of him while my eyes’ gaze were locked onto his own needy ones, looking up at me as if I had just fallen from heaven.

Meanwhile, what I’m doing isn’t quite angel-like, is it?

I softly chuckle and place a hand on the side of his face, thumb darting out to swiftly stroke over his cheek and the lipstick marks I have placed all over his face and neck, “Beautiful.” I say through heavy breaths as I continue to ride him.

My ears were quick to catch the small moan he let out from my compliment, his hips bucking up while his hands were travelling all around the sheets, fingers grasping onto the sheets every now and then, his cheeks were red, almost red enough to blend with the lipstick stains.

His head was still thrown back, granting me with full access to his previously covered neck.

Didn’t take me a long time before I dove my head into his neck and start placing kisses all over him again, sometimes even biting a spot on his neck that I knew would make the sweetest sounds escape those lips of his. How lovely is his voice.

”Am I..?” I hear him pant out.

Looking up, I press another kiss to his cheek, making more of my red lipstick marks. "Are you what?” I ask, my hips still moving up and down, going slightly faster this time, causing a gasp from James, such a beautiful sound.

”Beautiful?”

A smile slowly made it’s way to my lips as my eyes lock with his, “More than what meets the eyes.”

I spoke before connecting my lips to his, his lips almost immediately moving along with mine eagerly in the soft yet passionate kiss we share, the lipstick surviving and remaining on my lips starting to transfer to his own lips, making his lips much more red than they already were from all of our previous kisses.

After a few minutes of our kiss pass, I hear him mumble against my lips, very softly, "I'm close.." He gasped right into my mouth, his lips chasing my lips when I try to pull back, "No. Kiss me more.. finish me.. please please.."

The way he looked at this moment.. it surely is a sight I'd want to capture and frame, the shape of my lips marked all over his skin in my lipstick, letting him know he's mine, I never thought a man so tough and charming can be so beautiful.

I begin to raise my hips and sink back down in a much more fast velocity, my lips never stop moving along with his now, locked in a steamy yet loving kiss at the same time.

This time, I let him touch me, feeling him dig his fingers into the skin of my waist, trying to thrust up as fast as I was but faltering the moment he was getting close to his release, shooting the white streaks of his cum and painting my walls not long after stopping his thrusts, a long moan escaping his mouth and entering mine.

My movements stopped as well and that same moan escaped mine as well the moment I came undone above him, the mixed cum of ours slowly dripping out of my cunt while I lay my whole body ontop of him.

As we try to steady our breaths, James press a soft kiss on my head with a long sigh, one of his hand reaching up to smudge the lipstick marks with his finger, looking down and seeing the redness of my lipstick transfered to his finger.

"God, you're so fucking hot." I hear him mutter with a low chuckle, my eyes never leaving the way my lipstick stains paints his skin from his face all the way to his chest.

[penguiniiii]

You Did Me A Favor, Cuz I Opened My Eyes!

The Phantomhive Household with a Fallen Angel Emily!Reader as a maid!

In which you, a fallen angel, join the Phantomhive Household!

Cw: The reader is like Emily from Hazbin Hotel if she fell.

Navigation

The rain poured relentlessly, washing away the filth of London’s streets as the night stretched on in eerie silence. Sebastian Michaelis stepped carefully through the cobbled alleyway, his polished shoes untouched by the grime beneath him. The scent of blood and something far more peculiar—divine yet tainted—drew his attention to a heap of white and gold crumpled against a wall.

He stopped, tilting his head in mild curiosity.

A woman, wings splayed and broken, lay sprawled in the alley, her [h/c] locks matted with rain and dirt. Her once-pristine feathers were a mess of blood and snapped quills, twitching ever so slightly as she groaned in pain. She was an angel—or at least, she had been. Now, she was something less, something discarded. How delightful.

Sebastian crouched beside her, the dim glow of his crimson eyes flickering in amusement. “Oh dear, what a tragic sight. Did Heaven grow tired of you, little dove?”

The woman groaned, turning over to blink up at him. Despite her sorry state, her bright eyes sparkled with a strange, almost ditzy warmth. “Oh wow! Hi there, handsome! You got, like, the most dramatic voice ever. It’s so cool! Who are you? Oh! Are you an actor? I bet you’d be really good at playing, like, an evil prince or something! Super spooky vibes.”

Sebastian blinked. Once. Then twice. Ah. This was going to be insufferable.

“I am one hell of a butler,” he said smoothly, offering her a gloved hand. “And you, my dear, seem to be in desperate need of assistance.”

She took his hand eagerly, her grip surprisingly strong as she pulled herself upright—only to immediately wince and slump against him. “Owie—ugh, my everything hurts. Feathers aren’t supposed to bend that way, right?” She flexed one mangled wing, feathers falling out like an unfortunate pillow fight aftermath. “Oh wow, this is, like, really bad, huh?”

Sebastian hummed, barely hiding his smirk. “Yes, well, I suppose plucked poultry is never quite as elegant as one would hope.”

She gasped. “Oh my gosh! Are you calling me a chicken?! Rude! I’m, like, way cuter than a chicken. Have you seen my wings? Or, well, what’s left of them? Angelic, babe.”

“I would never dream of it,” he replied, the picture of innocence. “Though, if the feathers fit…”

She huffed, pouting as she tried—and failed—to flick his forehead. “You’re kinda mean, y’know that?”

“And yet, you are still clinging to me.”

She looked down, realizing she was, in fact, still latched onto his arm. “Oh! Whoopsie-daisy!” She laughed, letting go—only to immediately wobble on her feet. “Okaaaay, maybe not the best idea.”

Sebastian sighed, feigning reluctance as he caught her again. “It would seem you are rather incapable of fending for yourself in this state. How… unfortunate.”

She gasped dramatically, eyes wide with realization. “Wait! You’re totally right! I can’t, like, do anything right now. Oh no, does that mean I’m homeless? That’s so sad!”

Sebastian exhaled through his nose, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Tragic, indeed.” He paused, considering his options. “As it so happens, I may be able to offer you a position.”

Her ears perked up—figuratively, of course. “Oh! Like, a job? Wow! I’ve never had one of those before! What do I do? Is it fun? Do I get to wear a cute outfit?”

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Oh, I assure you, it will be… quite the experience.”

She clapped her hands excitedly, completely missing the underlying menace in his tone. “Yay! This is gonna be awesome! I get to work with you, Mr. Evil Prince Voice? Sign me up!”

Sebastian straightened, offering her his arm once more. “Come along then, little dove. Let’s get you acquainted with your new… home.”

As she beamed up at him, blissfully unaware of the passive-aggressive barbs laced within his every word, Sebastian simply smirked.

Oh yes. This was going to be very entertaining indeed.

---

Finny

The next morning, the fallen angel wandered outside, stretching her sore limbs and flapping her mangled wings experimentally. “Oof, still busted. That’s a bummer.”

A voice called from nearby. “Oh! Are you new?”

She turned and was immediately met with the brightest grin she’d ever seen. Finny, the ever-enthusiastic gardener, waved eagerly, holding a heavy-looking pot in one hand as if it were weightless.

“Oh wow, hi! You’re super strong! Are you, like, part giant?” she asked, tilting her head.

Finny laughed, setting the pot down with ease. “Nope! Just got lucky! I try not to break things, but sometimes it happens anyway.”

She gasped. “Me too! Oh my gosh, we’re, like, totally the same! You’re, like, my new bestie now.”

Finny beamed. “Really? That’s great! Wanna help me with the flowers?”

She clapped excitedly. “Yesss! Gardening time! Oh, oh! Can I wear one of those cute straw hats? I’d totally rock the cottagecore vibe.”

Finny eagerly handed her a hat, and within minutes, the two were elbow-deep in soil, completely forgetting any real tasks as they built tiny dirt castles between planting flowers.

Sebastian, watching from the shadows, pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a long day.”

---

Mey-Rin

Later in the day, as the fallen angel explored the manor, she nearly collided with a blur of red and brown. Mey-Rin, flustered as always, barely managed to stop herself from toppling over, adjusting her oversized glasses hurriedly.

“Oh dearie me! I—oh! You must be the new girl!” Mey-Rin stammered, clutching a tray full of teacups precariously.

The fallen angel gasped, clasping her hands together. “Oh wow! You’ve got, like, the cutest accent ever! And those glasses! Oh my gosh, you’re adorable!”

Mey-Rin turned beet red. “A-Ah! I-I’m not used to such compliments, miss!”

“Oh! Let me help you with that!” Without thinking, the fallen angel reached out, bumping the tray slightly. In an instant, the teacups went soaring through the air.

Mey-Rin shrieked. “Oh no—!”

Reacting on impulse, the fallen angel lunged forward, attempting to catch them—only to flail and somehow end up entangled in the curtains, hanging upside down as the shattered porcelain littered the floor.

Sebastian arrived just in time to witness the disaster. He sighed deeply. “I see you’ve made yourself quite at home.”

The fallen angel, still dangling, grinned sheepishly. “Oopsie-daisy! So, like… maybe not my best moment?”

Mey-Rin giggled nervously. “Aha… y-yeah… I’ll get the broom…”

---

Baldroy

Even later in the day, the fallen angel wandered into the kitchen, lured by the delicious scent of something… burning?

Baldroy stood at the stove, cigarette hanging from his lips, an explosion of smoke billowing around him. “Damn it, not again!” he coughed, waving a hand at the small fire erupting in the pan.

She gasped. “Oh wow! Fire! That’s so cool!”

Baldroy blinked at her, then back at the flames. “Uh… not really? This ain’t supposed to be happenin’.”

She grabbed a spoon and started fanning the flames. “Maybe if we, like, blow on it real hard?”

Baldroy chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, kid, I got this.” He grabbed a pot lid and smothered the fire in one swift motion. “See? All good.”

She clapped. “Woo! That was, like, so dramatic! You should totally be in a cooking contest.”

He grinned. “You’re a weird one, but I like your energy. Wanna help with dinner?”

She gasped. “Oh my gosh, yes! I can totally stir stuff! Or, like, chop things! Oh! Can I use a knife? Wait, maybe not. I got banned from scissors once.”

Baldroy let out a hearty laugh. “This is gonna be interesting.”

---

Ciel

After barely surviving the kitchen, the fallen angel was led to the grand study, where Ciel Phantomhive sat behind his desk, pen in hand, looking every bit the young noble he was. His sharp blue eye scrutinized her as she stood before him, rocking slightly on her heels.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “My lord, allow me to introduce our newest… acquisition.”

Ciel barely looked up from his work. “Another stray, Sebastian? I didn’t think we were running a shelter.”

The fallen angel gasped dramatically. “Oh my gosh, am I a stray?! Does that make me, like, a super cute lost puppy? I bet I’d be the fluffiest.”

Ciel slowly set down his pen and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sebastian.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“What is this?” He gestured vaguely at her, exasperation growing.

Sebastian smirked. “An angel, my lord.”

Ciel gave him a deadpan stare. “This is an angel?”

“Fallen, technically!” she added cheerfully. “It’s, like, a whole thing.”

Ciel sighed. “And what exactly is she supposed to do here?”

“She will assist in various tasks,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “Though I admit, she is something of an… experiment.”

Ciel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “As long as she doesn’t break anything important.”

The fallen angel gave a thumbs-up. “You got it, boss!”

Ciel narrowed his eyes. “Sebastian, if she causes too much trouble—”

“Oh, my lord,” Sebastian interrupted with a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t dream of letting that happen.”

Ciel sighed again. He already had a headache.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Crush

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Drinks with friends

A/N: Inspired by nothing. Nothing at all.. Enjoy :)

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

It’s a rare Thursday night. You’re not working tomorrow, but instead of being home you’re about to walk into a bar and meet your friend for drinks. She’d claimed that it had been too long since you’ve hung out, and since you couldn’t argue and wanted to catch up you agreed to go out tonight. She’d told you that she would bring a couple of friends she wanted you to meet, and you tried not to be stressed by this. You couldn’t help but be an introvert, and when you were faced with meeting strangers you worried about first impressions. 

You didn’t have to tell Wanda this when she watched you pass your phone between your hands as you waited until it was time to leave. As usual, you were ready early, but you didn’t want to leave yet. You’d invited Wanda to come but it probably wasn’t a good idea. You weren’t sure how many people would recognize Wanda, but in order to prevent a catastrophe and reduce your stress, she opted to stay home. She said she’s be relaxing with Boone and Fletcher, and you just offered a smile before you took another deep breath. You’d almost fallen asleep with your head on Wanda’s shoulder before she reminded you that it was time to go. 

You’d left Boone at home since the bar you were meeting at wasn’t pet friendly, and you immediately miss him when you step out of your car into the cold air. 

You tell yourself you’re looking forward to this when you push open the front door and look around for your friend. 

“Y/n, over here!”

You turn in the direction of the familiar voice and smile at the equally familiar face. As you walk toward the booth with three people, you realize that only one of them is a stranger. You force your steps not to slow as you recognize the redhead you haven’t seen since vet school. You hope to whoever is listening that you’re not blushing as you curse yourself and offer a smile. 

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” 

Your friend stands up to hug you before she shakes her head and convinces you that you’re right on time despite everyone else already having drinks. You sit down beside her when she slides into the booth, and turn to both of her friends as she starts the introductions. 

“Y/n, meet my friends Rachel and Caitlin. Rachel works at the BEST ER clinic in town, and Caitlin just moved here to start working as a Cardiologist.” 

You smile at your friend’s description of what was likely the ER she worked at before moving to General Practice like you. Still, it was never safe to assume, and you decided to ask for clarification’s sake, as well as something to say. 

“Nice to meet you both. That said, Rachel, if you work where I think you do, I’ve talked to you at least once when referring patients.”

You watch as the brunette smiles before confirming your suspicions. You’ve definitely sent many, many patients her way. You’ve heard only good things about her, and not just from your friend. You turn your attention to the familiar face with the calmest expression you can manage. 

“Welcome to Denver, Caitlin. Have you been here long?” 

You resist the urge to steal some of your friend’s drink as the redhead in front of you shakes her head before mentioning where she’d completed her residency. 

“Only a couple of months. I was up at Fort Collins for school. Stayed there after my residency to work at a specialty hospital for a while.”

You nod in understanding and open your mouth to say something, but you’re cut off when your friend nudges you as her face lights up. You tense a little in anticipation, and you hope that the duo watching the exchange across from you chalks it up to the unexpected contact rather than the realization that you were hoping could wait until later. If at all. 

“Oh yeah! Y/n, you both went to school there. I think you were probably there at the same time.” 

You pretend to think about this, and do some math before shooting Caitlin a questioning look. 

“I graduated a little over 8 years ago.”

Rachel and your friend watch as Caitlin smiles in response as she taps her fingers on the table between them in contemplation. You take a moment to study the redhead and you hate that nearly a decade later, you have to fight the flush that wants to creep across your cheeks. You remember your last year of clinics during school. You were exhausted and trying your best to learn as much as possible. One of your first rotations was Cardiology, and you’d felt ill-prepared for it. You knew that you had to try your best to not appear as clueless as you felt in front of the many doctors you’d be working with. 

Then you’d arrived and seen Caitlin was on the service, and you’d suddenly been more attentive than you’ve ever been. You’d felt pathetic and a little gross for how you listened to every word that the redheaded resident said. You’d learned a lot and despite nothing happening at all, you’d left wanting more. 

Each subsequent rotation, you’d jump on any chance to wander down the hall to Cardio again, but you’d only seen her a handful more times before graduating. 

You’d left your unhealthy infatuation in the past and moved in with Wanda that same year. You’d never told her about your crush because you felt guilty despite knowing it wasn’t going anywhere. You knew your then girlfriend was a jealous person, and you saw no point in telling her about your attraction when it would be a moot point as soon as you left campus. 

Now, here you sat with your friend and two other vets, and you’re about to find out if you were as subtle as you hoped. Something told you that you hadn’t been. Namely the many reminders you get from your family about how you’re horribly transparent with your thoughts. Especially when they’re inappropriate. 

“I was in the last year of my residency.”

You remind yourself that you’re happily married and would never look elsewhere as you nod in response. You don’t bother looking at anyone other than Caitlin until a waiter comes by to take your order. 

“Yeah, I remember.” 

Once you have a drink and you’re no longer the center of attention, you relax and try to enjoy your time. You’re realizing quickly that you hadn’t misremembered Caitlin’s dry wit and intelligence. Listening to her talk about what she’s going to be doing is both interesting and a little daunting. 

You realize you’re not alone when your friend finishes off her drink and sets the glass on the table with a sigh. She shoots Rachel and Caitlin half-hearted glares before surprising you with what she says next.

“Alright, alright, we get it. You’re both super smart and we’re lowly GP vets. At least we get to go home to our SOs at a reasonable hour.” 

You roll your eyes and the glare you shoot your friend is a little less half-hearted than hers. You can tell she’s a little tipsy and you just sigh before muttering under your breath. 

“I don’t agree with the ‘lowly’ part of your statement, but I will admit it was nice to get out of school before I turned 30.”

Both Rachel and Caitlin speak up at the same time, and you all end up laughing.

“I was 29.” 

You’re enjoying the niche company when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You glance at your watch to see if it’s urgent, but you just see that Wanda’s sent you a picture. You tune back into the conversation about a C-section nearly going wrong when your phone goes off again. You ignore it, but your friend can feel it vibrating since she’s sitting beside you. She glances at you but says nothing until Rachel’s finished her story. 

“Sorry for sending her to you, but when he walked in at 5pm with her I knew where she was going to end up.” 

You expect Rachel to give her some grief for this because you’ve had this happen to you before. You’ve sent problematic, critically sick patients to an ER because you didn’t have to staff, time, or tools to manage them, and sometimes the recipients were a little salty. You’re pleasantly surprised when the brunette just smiles before shaking her head. Despite the nightmare that it sounded like, apparently it wasn’t too bad. You could never be an ER vet. 

“Don’t be. It was actually pretty fun.” 

You can’t imagine this being fun, but then again you stayed away from pregnant spays for a reason.  

You finish your drink and glance toward one of the TVs across the room to note the time. It’s been a couple of hours, but since you don’t work tomorrow, you’re in no rush. You don’t realize that you’re not the only one who checked the time when your friend speaks up. 

“I know you don’t work tomorrow, Y/n, but I need to be in by 8, so I should probably call it a night.” 

You nod and get ready to stand up and leave too, but she grabs your arm to keep you still. You shoot her a confused look before she glances across the table and then back to you. 

“Stay for another drink, you two, on me. Rachel was my ride, but maybe you and Caitlin can catch up some more.”

You’re suddenly suspicious of your friend and you merely slide out of the booth to let her out without a word. Caitlin does the same and you realize she’s looking at you and you need to make a decision now. You don’t want to be rude, so you just offer her a smile before hugging her tightly. 

“It was good to see you. Let’s do this again soon.” 

You say goodbye to Rachel and watch the duo leave as you slowly slide back into the booth. You wonder what’s going to happen next and consider ordering that second drink when Caitlin speaks up. 

“I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I think I remember you.” 

This is not what you’d been expecting, and you merely shake your head with a self-deprecating smile. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say that. I was just one of many.” 

Caitlin doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she studies you in a way that sets you on edge. You wonder what she’s thinking about. What she could be remembering. Finally, she smiles before leaning back and shooting you a look that certainly would have made you blush 8 years ago. 

“No, I really do. I swear. You were memorable because you were so…attentive.” 

You break eye contact which is a mistake because of how telling it is, but it’s too late to take it back now. You wonder when Caitlin figured it out. Oh how obvious you must have been. She was probably laughing at you with the other residents. Your face flushes in embarrassment as you curse your horrible poker face. 

“Well that’s… embarrassing doesn’t feel sufficient…mortifying, maybe?” 

You can’t help but laugh at yourself before you turn your attention back to the redhead. You remember that you’re older now, nearly 10 years older, and you’re not the same person. You don’t simp over random attractive people who pay you a little attention. You’re only a simp for your wife these days. 

Caitlin only chuckles before she shakes her head and admits something that you’re not prepared for. You can’t help but wonder again if your friend had planned this. Did she know that you two knew each other before she introduced you? You could ask now, but you’d rather figure out what the hell is going on. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was flattering.” 

You decided you definitely needed another drink if you were going to respond to this. After getting your waiter’s attention you ordered another drink before shrugging in faux nonchalance that was honestly laughable. 

“I was just super interested in cardiology honestly.” 

This received the response you’d expected, and you smile when Caitlin laughs more freely. You two ended up talking for another hour about cases before ending the night around 10. 

When you leave the bar, you’re smiling widely at how well the night had gone. You’d been surprised by a hug at the end, and you feel as if you practically floated to your car. This feeling didn’t dim any as you pulled into the garage a little later and cut off the car. You sit back in your seat and sigh heavily before getting out and heading inside. 

“Wanda?” 

Although you’d told her not to, your wife had waited up for you with your pets. You smile as she turns around on the couch before standing up to greet you. You shake your head before hurrying to sit beside her with a wide smile. You’re still reeling from tonight and you reach out and hug your wife before asking how her night has gone. 

“It was pretty quiet here, but relaxing. What about you? Did you have fun?”  

You smile widely before nodding and beginning to describe your night out. You didn’t realize that you were practically glowing, but Wanda picked up on it immediately. 

“It was great. My friend brought two other vets with her and we talked about all sorts of things. ER med, cardiology…disasters. I actually went to school at the same time as one. She was a resident on one of my favorite rotations.” 

You continue to talk about Caitlin, and you miss the way that Wanda squints at you before tilting her head in question. You’re still thinking about how you’re shocked that Caitlin remembered you when Wanda speaks up and knocks the wind out of your sails. 

“You and Caitlin knew each other?” 

You pause when Wanda says this because technically yes. You knew of each other, but you didn’t talk beyond what was required of you when you had cases with her. You weren’t friends. As soon as you acknowledge this you realize that Wanda’s asking something very specific that you have the urge to ignore. You realize your mistake too late though and you merely shake your head before averting your gaze to your dog. You scratch his ears before waiting to see if Wanda was as astute as you feared. 

“No, not really. Our paths crossed a couple of times, but only during those 2 weeks.”

There’s a prolonged silence and you can’t help but look up curiously. Your hopes are dashed as Wanda shoots you a skeptical look. You hold back a sigh and speak up before your wife has a chance to. 

“I may have had a massive crush on her, and seeing her tonight was a shock to my system.” 

Wanda doesn’t really know how to respond to this, and she thinks back to when she’d taken you to her high school reunion. She’d seen her high school crush there and you’d been with her at the time. It had led to one of your few serious fights, and she wonders if you’d felt similarly to how she does now. 

The only difference is that you had been with her when you had a crush on this woman. Wanda’s not sure if you’d mentioned her at all. Wanda was now wondering if there had been others. 

You seem oblivious to her plight, and you continue to muse about this redhead that Wanda really can’t decide if she wants to know more about or not. 

“It seems silly to me now. I didn’t want it to go anywhere, and the idea that she’s here now? It just makes me think that I was such a child.” 

You roll your eyes at the thought of how much a simp you were and how this was your way of coping with the stress, long hours, and sleep-deprivation of being at school more often than not back then. Still you shake your head at your foolishness. You always did find it easier to listen to and learn from an attractive woman, but this was the first time you’ve ever seen them after the fact. You miss Wanda’s confused look as you double over and start laughing in embarrassment.

“You had a crush on her?” 

You nod as you wipe tears from your eyes before confirming your wife’s suspicions.

“Yeah, I did, well I-not really. I thought she was attractive and smart, but it’s not like I wanted to date her. Obviously.”

You say the last part for Wanda’s benefit despite it being true because you realize that she might be taking this the wrong way. Or rather she may be insulted by this because you probably would be too. Despite loving Wanda and not wanting to be with anyone but her, you weren’t blind to the people around you. You noticed attractive people, and you’re not sure if that’s about to get you in trouble. 

Wanda frowns as she considers this and decides to ask only one more question. She’s not in the mood to be upset with you, but that will all depend on what you say next. 

“Okay…Did you ever think about being with her?” 

This question gets your attention and you immediately shake your head. It was pretty shallow of you honestly, but you’d only really sought her out because you always learned something whenever you talked to her, and she was a beautiful redhead. Although not the most beautiful. 

“Not for more than a conversation about nerdy things. She was…is pretty but it doesn’t go past that for me. Plenty of people are pretty and smart, but I only want one pretty and smart…kinda redhead.” 

You laugh when Wanda shoots you a glare before shoving you back against the cushions. You just smile at her as she crawls into your lap and wraps her arms around your neck. She leans in close to you but pulls back when you try to close the distance and kiss her. She eyes you carefully and underneath her curiosity you see a glimmer of fear, and you hate that you’re responsible for it. 

“You promise?” 

You nod as you squeeze her hips and hum under your breath. You can’t imagine ever wanting anyone like you want Wanda, and you hope that never changes. 

“I promise. You’re it for me, Wands. Only you.” 

As much fun as your night out had been, you’re grateful to be home with your beautiful wife. You wouldn’t trade the feeling of being with the woman you love for anything. 

Masterlist

[bearw-me]

Loved the physical affection Lute and the fluff was great, I didn't specify NSFW as I saw that's not something you do much. If you're interested in continuing with our favorite....how about Yandere Lute next?

yes, I've attempted nsfw w/ lute in the 'first time hcs' i wrote! and i've actually never thought about a yandere lute until now: she's absolutely terrifying btw

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐜𝐬!

𐐒 includes : yandere! lute x gender neutral! reader 𐐒 cw : dark, mentions of death/killing, mentions of manipulation (?), possessiveness, reader's in for it, i swear like once i promise 𐐒 summary : just your run-of-the-mill crazy yandere lute (general hcs) 𐐒 note : our scary angsty gf lute :')

lute is completely, utterly terrifying

but you wouldn't have guessed right?

the signs would probably start from something small: maybe you caught her when she stumbled during a flight, or tried to catch her gaze when she assembles the exorcists . . . something you'd think is small that would catch her attention like nothing else

after that i don't think you'd see a lot of her

matter-of-fact, lute likes to watch you, every moment your not consciously aware there's an angel lurking just outside your window. whenever she gets the chance away from work, she's there.

possessive beyond belief

lute hasn't quite figured out her new found emotions yet

its like a burning rage that has no set objective. . . but she doesn't want to hurt you. more like. . . smother? no that's not the word. . .

so for now, she just watches you

hates when people interact with you or when you're overtly friendly to people.

is/does kill people like that. humans that made it to heaven, sinners. . . maybe she'd even consider slaying an angel just to get to you (at the end of this, I think she would kill god or lucifer if she thought they'd get between you)

she'd fking love killing for you

which is terrifying: the idea of lute turning fallen or straight sinner just because she's obsessed with you- entirety. yes, the heavens would fall for you, she promises.

Lute would probably mess up all her plans to meet you in a picture perfect setting, but gods do you get her adrenaline pumping when you run from her.

Likes to toy with your emotions (if you make her feel this confused, then you can take it too)

but lets be real, the only god she'd ever serve again would be you.

she's loyal beyond belief, she'd lay down her life and anyone else's in fact, if only you asked it of her.

and once you realize that I guess its smooth sailing for you.

unless of course you try to reject her

a twisted, guardian angel

[cort4se]

nothing at all right?

part 1, part 3 synopsis: one thing leads to another when Vi starts to see her friend in a new light. naive and curious, reader decides to find out what this new entanglement can bring about.

You stopped chewing your apple. Leaning in, you narrowed your eyes, “What are you doing?”

Vi looked like a deer caught in headlights. Liquid courage nowhere near close enough to shield her from the way you were staring at her. Her voice caught in her throat as nervous glossy eyes tried to attach themselves to anything other than your intimidating gaze.

She leaned back into her chair, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, before clearing her throat with a breathy chuckle, “Ah, I’m— nothing.” 

She looked up at you for a brief moment, before focusing on something else again, softly mumbling, “Just think you’d be a good partner is all.”​ 

Surprise evident in your voice, you pressed further, “Really?” 

Was what came out of your mouth, but what the fuck? If it weren’t for the way your legs wrapped around each other, you might’ve fallen out of your chair. 

You swallowed the rest of your apple, still studying her expression when she called out to you, ignoring your question altogether.

“Hey it's late, is it cool if I crash here tonight?”

You raised a single brow, amusement spreading across your features.

You’ve seen Vi drunk plenty of times and she’s never backed down from flirting with anyone. A small smile found its way onto your lips as you wondered why she did this time. You nodded your head as you got up to show her to a spare room.

You would’ve thought everything was fine if it wasn’t for the inkling feeling you had that something was wrong. You’ve called and texted, but it's like she’s gone on a dopamine detox the way she’s disappeared off of everything. 

You looked down at your phone, hoping to see a response that would save you from the situation you were now in.

3 days ago

4 messages

Delivered

You gripped the phone in your palm as you pulled yourself together, mustering enough courage to push open the doors to the arena.

These things really weren’t your thing, the thick scent of blood, the noise, the warmth, all of it was enough to spin you out of your mind and flat onto the ground. The sight of flying metal jaws didn't help either. And these places were always humid, your skin began melting into your clothes just at the thought of it.

Pushing past a few bodies, you found a spot in the stands, a place where you could easily spot the contending fighters entering into the pit. 

A few matches went by when the realization suddenly hit, that you actually had no idea what Vi’s fighting schedule was like. How often she fought, when she fought, you simply came here on a whim.

You figured that you were probably wasting your time coming here. 

On your way to leave was when the crowd suddenly came alive. Crowd eagerness increased by tenfold as spectators roared with excitement, throwing various trinkets into the pit while many raised red betting papers.

You spun your attention back into the pit, eyes darting all over searching for the cause of this resurgence of excitement. And then you saw her. Sweat twinkled on her skin the way plankton glow under the sea. Red stained her already bloodied bandages, while parts of her wild hair stubbornly stuck onto her damp forehead. 

You've never seen her fight but even under bright lights her presence had complete hold over your attention. You watched the fight. To say you were surprised was an understatement. She was quick, yet insanely strong. She was an entirely different person in the pit, her usual soft and playful nature replaced with sheer strength and concentration.

She was doing really well— Although you didn’t particularly know what well meant when it came to fighting, she wasn't taking that many hits and the crowd adored her. 

She weaved punches incomprehensibly fast, retaliating with relentlessly strong ones. She completely overpowered her opponent despite them being twice her size. 

That is until she caught you in the stands. Her eyes briefly met yours, and then surprise washed through them.

She quickly shifted her focus back onto her opponent and that would have convinced you she hadn’t noticed you at all.

Would have. 

Her foot landed awkwardly, allowing her opponent to land a blow that had her landing hard on the cold ground beneath her. The crowd groaned with a collective Ahhhh at the impact.

She was quick to get back up, it was hard to see her through the bodies of people who crowded your vision. But from the sounds of victorious cheers you could tell she happened to recover and ended up winning the match.

You hurriedly left after the fight, pushing yourself through the dense crowd to see if you could catch her in the bar. You whipped your head around from side to side, frantically looking for her signature leather jacket.

Unfortunately, all you got were a few confused looks from patrons when you tapped them on their shoulder. Mumbling a quick “Sorry,” as you darted through the packed bar.

You could handle Vi not texting back, maybe she had been busy, but she never went more than a day without responding to your messages. Even when she spent the night drinking her heart out, the following morning she’d still manage to send you a drunken voice note letting you know she got home okay. 

You let out a strained exhale as you decided to call it a night. Vi was an adult, and if something was wrong she could tell you.

Right?..

Is what you tried to tell yourself but there you were again a second night in a row, sitting in an overcrowded, deafeningly loud and uncomfortably hot arena looking for your friend you were convinced was now definitely avoiding you.

You waited a couple matches to see if she'd show up, and luckily she did. Like the previous night she successfully landed a combination of attacks, weaving, dodging, landing hard jabs. Taking a few hits herself but the fight would be soon over with her hailed as the victor.

She fought with a certain vigour, a certain anger she's never bothered to talk about with you. Tonight she happened to have two fights lined up back to back. Her chest rose and fell with heavy exhales, using the back of her bandaged hand to wipe off the on her forehead, stretching out her neck from side to side as she waited for her next fight to begin.

Her next opponent was unlike her usual contenders. She was around her height, but with a smaller yet still muscular build. The fight was so fast you could barely tell who was doing what.

Her opponent was quick and agile, with longer limbs. Almost like a snake in her movements. After a series of prolonged attacks, with a feint, Vi caught her opponent off guard, hitting them particularly hard in their liver.

Her opponent staggered for a while trying their best to recover, but you could tell from the panic in their eyes, the air had been forced out of her lungs and she couldn't seem to get enough in fast enough. Her knees crashed into the ground as she desperately held onto her side. 

Vi threw her fists into the air with a victorious cheer. Along with the praise of everyone in the crowd who had bet on her win tonight. 

You were sure you'd find her today. There’s no way after a match like that she’d pass up a drink.

You found yourself a comfortable seat at the counter, looking over your shoulder every now and then in search of black hair with pinkish red streaks. You called over the bartender, describing the shifty pitfighter that had been avoiding you like you had the plague, asking if they’ve seen them around recently.

To your dismay, they shook their head no. If it wasn’t for this itchy feeling something was up, you would’ve brushed it off. Maybe she really held up to laying off on those drinks.

But that didn’t do anything to help the worry that clouded your thoughts, she didn't answer her phone, and you hadn't seen her in days. It didnt help that shes been skipping her meals. She can take care of herself, but you couldn’t help but worry if she’s been eating enough.. 

A frustrated groan escaped past your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. 

You ordered a drink to ease your nerves and from the corner of your eye you caught a glint of light against a pointy piece of metal. You turned towards it, but as quickly as you saw it, it was gone. 

She’s seen you, you know she has. And she’s gone out of her way to pretend she hasn't. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren't even remotely nervous about what you were about to do. 

You and Vi have always been close but ever since she’s started drinking more, you’ve paid close attention to avoid going to her apartment unannounced. You knew she was struggling and you wanted to give her as much space as she needed until she felt ready enough to invite you in. 

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of her apartment door, exhales coming out in airy puffs of steam as they bounced off and up against the hard door that stood in front of you. Taking a hand out of your pocket, you rolled the thought over in your mind once more before giving the door a few knocks.

You don't wait too long before you hear shuffling on the other side of the door. The door swung open to reveal a confused yet mildly bruised Vi from last night’s fight. 

You sucked in a quick breath, bracing yourself before looking up to meet her steel coloured eyes. Ignoring the confusion on her face, you pushed the thought out of your mind, “Why've you been avoiding me?”

Taken aback by your accusation, her hands came up to wave away any misunderstandings, “Woah, I'm not avoiding you.”

“I saw you last night,” Or at least I think I did.. “I know you saw me too, What’s going on?” The furrow in your brows deepened with concern, “Vi if i did something to—”

“No, no,” she quickly interrupted, “You haven't done anything, I promise.. I’ve just,” she ran a hand through her hair as a frustrated sigh slipped past her lips. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh okay,” you replied flatly. You turned on your heel ready to head in the opposite direction, offended at her weak attempt at an excuse.

She chased after you before you could, her cool fingers coiling around your wrist, bringing your attention back onto her and why you came in the first place. Her muscles flexed against the cold air that bit at her bare skin. 

“No wait! Why don't you come inside, it’s cold.” Her eyes narrowed into a pleading expression silently asking, please.

Your tongue prodded at the inside of your cheek as you nodded in agreement, following her into the apartment.

You sat down on her couch, looking around at a few t-shirts and games sprawled on the floor. Surprisingly it’s been kept pretty neat.

She sat down next to you, her weight dipping into the couch.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” just that she can't seem to calm herself whenever she's reminded of how you cornered her that night, how your eyes were focused entirely on her. Just that she can't seem to quiet the noise in her mind when she wonders what would've happened if she didn't pull away. That not only do you occupy her thoughts at night but she's started seeing you during the day as well.

She let out a frustrated exhale as she decided her words carefully, “I’ve just been so out of it lately.”

“Oh,” you nibble at your lower lip, unsure of what to say to comfort her. You dont doubt she's telling the truth but you can't help but feel like she’s hiding something from you. You don't mean to over-step but the words fall out of your mouth before you could stop them, “I’ve been worried about you, Vi. I actually went to see you fight a few times.”

Her brows raised, “Actually?”

“Yea, I didn’t know how else to reach you since,” you motioned towards her phone sprawled on the counter, “And im sure ive caught your eye a few times.”

Her heart twists. Vi hates that she's been ignoring you, but she hates even more that she made you worry this much and she had no idea, “I-I,” she tumbled over her words, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you do that”

‘Hey,” you pushed her shoulder playfully, “I chose to go there on my own free will, as long as you’re okay I can't really be mad at you for doing whatever you need to, to feel better.”

Vi gives you a small smile as she brushes her palm to your arm. You placed your palm atop hers, holding her warmth to your skin for a moment. 

“I hope you can get some sleep in tonight, take care Vi,” the weight of the couch lifted as you got up to leave, but she reached out for you again.

“W-Wait”

You turned back to look at her with a puzzled look on your face.

She cleared her throat, “Well since you came all the way here why not keep me company?” She motioned towards the plastic you've long forgotten about. “And isn’t that for me? Why don’t we share it together?” She's grinning at you, and her eyes have you sucked in like you've been caught in a whirlpool.

Honestly, you didn’t plan on staying over, but how could you say no to her? 

sorry this took forver to put out,, ive been so busy TT

i hope you enjoyed! cross posted on ao3 w the same user <3

[love-hatred-stuff]

》 hey, hi~ here's a draft that I wrote instead of continuing other fics that I wanted to write, lmao I hate myself :')

》 Eddie Brock(Venom) x (f)Reader

⚠ a little warning; age gap (10y), daddy issues here we goooo, just a tiny bit spice and some sprinkle de dinkle ★angst★

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Eddie hadn't had sex in what felt like centuries. Actually just one or two years but who's counting when all he can do is use his hand and Venom mostly doesn't even let him finish. That monster doesn't give shit about it, he claims that Eddie wouldn't need it. He needs food and water but not a jerk off.

Well if he knew why he'd been going on it so much lately, maybe Venom would let him, but he's not ready to give that up yet. It's probably the only thing about Eddie, Venom hasn't completely figured out yet.

It was you. You were the reason he was slowly but surely losing the mind he shared with the compatible slimy alien inside of him.

•••

"Eddie thanks for checking, but I can manage." You told him on the other line of the phone.

Eddie just wanted to help you pack and carry your things since you were moving to another apartment. You've been able to get promoted again and now you were at the very top of the not even so small company you've been working at for about five years now. You could say you were pretty good at your job.

"I habe plenty of strong people here, helping me out. I don't even have to carry anything, I just decide were the furniture and boxes are getting placed. You don't need to worry, darling."

Eddie had a smirk dancing on his lips. You knew he could do everything they were doing, at least twice as fast.

"I should come over later then. I'll bring dinner." He suggested.

"Great idea. But don't let Venom choose take out again, please Eddie." Ugh the way you were saying his name made his brain go blank and suddenly Venom was hyperaware of what was going on.

"Promise. See ya." He immediately ended the call, leaving you a little confused. Ed could sense what Venom felt, just beneath the surface.

"Holy Shit!!!" Venom growled.

"You kidding me? She's the reason you've been going to the gym and eating healthy now? Why you've been completely desperate to stroke your dumbass dick?" Then he laughed. Finding it hilarious that Eddie was in love again. After his last woman, Anne, he'd been taking a while to open up again. Actually he didn't talk to any other woman besides you.

The thing was just, that you were ten years younger than him and he'd practically seen you grow up. Of course he never saw you the way he does now, back then. But it was quite bad how hard he had fallen for you in the last few months.

"I KNOW! She's too young for me. I'll keep my distance, okay? It wasn’t my intention to develop feelings." He tried defending himself.

"As if I cared, you nasty human. Get you dick wet if that's what you need." The symbiot snarled.

Eddie was surprised, to say the least.

"You're not gonna disturb us?" He asked in suspicion.

"Thought you wanted to keep your distance? Not anymore? Kidding. Do what you gotta do. Since you're my host I gotta let you have at least one thing."

"That'd be great." He smiled to himself.

"Now get your ass up at get her something nice, if you wanna get inside her pants."

"I don't wanna get inside her pants! Well- maybe a little, but I care about her more than that."

Eddie sensed, by Venom's silence, that he doesn't wanna get involved in his love life any further. Although he couldn't blame Eddie, you were gorgeous little human. A young one at that.

So he showered and grabbed his keys, so he could get dinner and some flowers. He was a little nervous buying these, because he knew that would be the first romantic move he's ever made on you. You probably only saw him as like an uncle or something, nothing more. Knowing his luck, he didn't even expect you to like him back.

He would know soon.

•••

Well, but who knew, he's gonna find himself underneath you instead?

Eddie was sitting on the couch, the only thing that wasn't completely packed with stuff and boxes. You were straddling him, taking his breath away with the way you moved your skilled tounge against his. He was a little hesitant though, barely touching your hips with his hands because he didn't know were to put them. He wanted so badly to grip your sides tight and push you closer against his crotch.

But he was unsure. Even though you clearly gave him all the signs that you wanted this, he felt like he was using you. Venom's earlier words spiralling in his mind; '-if you wanna get inside her pants.' No! He didn't! He wanted so much more than that. So it felt wrong to just jump you the moment you said you liked him back- well you didn't really say anything, you just smiled to yourself as you accepted his flowers and began to stalk towards him, until this moment, where you plastered him with marks and kisses.

Despite all those doubts, he felt heavenly, holding most of his sounds back, almost impossible. You were a woman with so many strengths, kissing and grinding being apparently one of them. Glad, he found out.

He only realised seconds later that you'd stopped and were looking straight at him.

"What's wrong?" Your worried look scratched at his heart instantly.

"Nothing." He lied.

He was a good liar. But you weren't buying it, you knew him well enough.

"You don't want this? You should've said so, Brock."

Ugh, another pang shooting through him stronger than he'd expected. The usage of his last name? Nah. You only did that when you were seconds away from switching your emotions. You were gonna tell him to piss off and stay away from you, until you forgave him, unless he would tell you the truth right f*cking now. He knew because he'd disappointed you once before. That was a complete different scenario, and now you felt personally attacked. He could feel it, even Venom could.

"No! I really really want this! Or else I wouldn't have told you what I did earlier. It's just, that it feels wrong touching you, with my hands."

Oh. No.

He just made it worse, didn't he? Judging by the way your face went blank, his speech definitely went sideways.

"Get lost." You were pointing to your door with your finger, giving him a stern look.

He felt like a little scared kid again, being scolded by his mom. Only ten times worse.

"What? No! I'm saying this because I'm so much older than you, y/n! I swear on my mother and the symbiot living inside of me that I've been craving you for the longest time now. I love you, god damn it! But I shouldn't and I know that, alright? But I can't help it. I'm sorry if I send you the wrong signals. I'm just worried that people will take you away from me, because of that." Eddie stood up and slowly walked towards you, trying to not make you even more uncomfortable than he already had.

You looked a little more relaxed now though.

"So you denied me because you feel a little perverted? God, Eddie you're not a grandpa and I'm a grown woman with a good life ahead of her. Do you think I would throw that away for a forbidden romance? You and I are perfectly okay to be with each other. Nothing's gonna happen, it's only ten years, Brock." Eddie flinched again at the end. Seemed like he had to soothe you a little more.

"Could you please stop addressing me with my last name, it scares me a little. I get it now. I'm sorry for worrying so much, sweetness." Eddie gently touched your cheek, caressing it and putting a strand of hair behind you ear.

"You have a lot of making up to do, you grandpa." You glanced up at him, allowing a tiny smile to dance on your cherry lips.

-----

To be continued...?

Love, love, love

~ love-hatred-stuff ♡

[beifong-brainrot]

Hi hello, feel free to ignore this ask if you're sick of people bugging you about Su's relationship with Lin.

Why do you think Su said that shit that was like "No wonder why Tenzin left you... [you're just a sad old woman (or some shit I do not remember exactly what was said but girl!! shots fired!!)]"

Would love to hear your take on what was going on in Su's mind there if you're up for it.

Honestly? Because she probably knew it would hurt Lin's feelings. Look, I defend Suyin when I can, but this was mean as shit and it was intended as such.

I do think this is a boling point for Suyin as much as it is Lin. Although Lin has reason to be angry with Suyin, and I'm nor expecting her to be warm and friendly, we can't deny that she has been... well, a bit of an asshole throughout her stay in Zaofu.

(Side note- I do love Lin growling when she's upset because my dad also does that and now I find middle aged people -my dad is not middle aged but lets pretend so we don't hurt his feelings- growling in annoyance normal and endearing)

She's been consistently antagonising Suyin with small jabs, which, I believe, especially the one about Suyin's motherhood were absolutely out of line.

Lin: Five kids. What a nightmare. Suyin: No, no. My children are a blessing. Lin: Yeah, mom used to say that too, but she never meant it.

Like, m'am, in front of said kids. Like I can easily see this hurting Suyin's feelings, with how strongly she is attached to her family. And then Lin drives Suyin's daughter to tears, which probably didn't smooth the situation over.

Suyin: I know she has a problem with me, but she had no right to yell at Opal last night.

And, mind you, once again, before people flood my inbox again, Lin isn't entirely in the wrong here. But she's also being a dick, and Su has been mainly allowing her to rage.

This is not to say Su has been completely rolling over for Lin, but I think it's more that she's been allowing Lin to take her anger out on her, perhaps hoping that is what Lin needs. As that is also her perogative when Lin attacks her.

Suyin: You've got it out of your system? Lin: [Angrily.] Not quite yet!

Maybe this is a pattern of behaviour from when they were younger that they have fallen into (since it did kinda work in the end lol) . So, Suyin allows Lin to lash out at her, even if some comments could get under her skin.

I think Lin yelling at Opal changes the situation for Suyin a bit, since now her child, who was just trying to be nice, is collateral in this sisterly beef. Suyin's tone is also much more stern and angered when talking about Opal getting yelled at.

So, I think the stage is set for Su to lash back out at Lin. And so next time they speak, Su says what she says. Especially that it was a tense conversation, and Suyin truly does appear hurt by Lin's constant rejection of peace. She's hurt that Lin pushed her away for almost 30 years, which, while it was Lin's right to do so, doesn't negate the fact that Su is stated to have reached out multiple times and tried to work things out with Lin. However, Lin is still very weirdly obsessed with the idea that Suyin hasn't changed at all.

Lin: You think that just because you live in a big, fancy house, and have a chef who cooks you fancy food, that you're a different person? Maybe you could fool everyone else, but you can't fool me. I see right through you. Suyin : You know what, Lin? You're the one who hasn't changed. You're still a bitter loner who only cares about herself. No wonder Tenzin ended things with you years ago.

And this is the proverbial straw that broke the camels back, because say what you want about Su, but she has changed and grown since her and Lin last saw each other. And, honestly, I think Lin's constant assuredness that Su hasn't changed stems from Lin's crux character flaw of stagnating and rejecting change. It's not that Su hasn't changed, it's the fact that the way Lin perc8eves her has not changed, which is, of course, one and the same to Lin.

Suyin's words also call back to the same phrasing Korra used in Old Wounds, and it drives home the message the writers want us to see- about the fact that Lin's coping mechanisms arr not healthy for her or those around her.

I love the Zaofu arc for Lin, because it's one of the only times her stagnation and stubborness get challenged. Are the other characters being mean to her? Yes, but mainly because she was being mean too. It's the most aggressive intervention for one of the most stubborn characters of the show, and I love it. I wish that there was more development around Lin, because yeah, she is a loner (nothing wrong with being introverted, but Lin seems to actively isolate herself) ,yeah, she is bitter and she's taking it out on herself and on others, and it's not healthy.

Also, side note, we need to talk about Lin's weird paranoia thing around Su. Like the whole "Maybe you could fool everyone else, but you can't fool me." and being hell bent on the idea that Su is working with the Red Lotus. Like Lin is there in the corner with her tin hat on waiting for Suyin to be the show's next twist villain or something lol