#we're going to say that part in the credits where he steps on her face happens early on

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

Claude and Lucy.

That's it. That's the post.

[scarletwinterxx]

fight my way - choi seungcheol imagine

hellloooo, so for like the entrance part of this fic just imagine that scene of hyungsik in strong girl namsoon when he walks in the police station😅🤣 yea just imagine cheol doing that. that's where i got the inspiration for this imagine

anyways i hope you like it!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

All heads turned when Choi Seungcheol walked in, slamming the double doors open strolling in with hurried steps. You noticed the guy beside you jump from his seat while some of the police officers looked alarmed when the doors loudly banged against the wall.

He quickly zeros in on you, running towards where you sat then he crouched beside you immediately taking your hand in his

"JAGI! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see your hand"

"I'm fine" you assured him, he still checks though. Once he's done he stands up and faces the officer Infront of you.

"What seems to be the problem here, officer? Why is my fiancé being held here?"

"Well she-" "SHE ATTACKED ME!" the man seating a few seats from beside you shouts, all heads turn towards his direction

"Yah, do you want to be punched again?" you asked him, you feel Seungcheol's hand on your shoulder as if he's telling to you calm down and he's got it.

"SHE DID! LOOK AT THIS!" the guy points at his swollen left eye, it's not that bad but you bet it'll be worse in a couple of hours. You did get him good.

You were having dinner out with your workmates when one of them got harassed by this dude. When your workmate disappeared from your table, you saw her by the restaurant bar and a man being touchy with her. Noticing the uncomfortable expression on her face, you decided to intervene.

A few hours later, you're here at the police station.

"She got you good" you hear your fiancé mumble under his breath

"I'm going to press charges against you!" he shouts again

"You?! You're going to press charges when you were the one who harassed my friend?! Wah the audacity. What makes you think you can just put your hands on a woman just like that huh? and when I do the same and land my fist on your face you're complaining?? Tell me. Make it make sense" you challenge him.

It seems like the punch wasn't enough to knock some sense into him and you're never one to back down whenever you see something wrong.

Meanwhile the officer in front of you just looks back and forth, letting you rip at the man. Seungcheol bites back the proud smile for now, he lets you teach the man the lesson he needed to hear.

"I- well- Still! You're wrong for attacking me!"

"I attacked you?! You attacked my friend! Getting your grubby hands on her, saying she was asking for it. You deserved that punch and more"

"YAH YOU BIT-"

"I'd watch what you'll say next Sir, I'm being respectful here because we're Infront of my fiancé and we might both end up behind bars so if I were you I'd choose my next words wisely" Seungcheol cuts him off before he finishes his sentence, his expression quickly changing to a scary one. The look that can quiet down the whole place.

You snicker at the guy, seeing the intimidated look on his face before facing front. "My friend is just waiting for her boyfriend to come, she will be pressing charges. Is there anything else you need from me?" you ask

"We have the security footage now, we did see him approach your friend first and started being touchy with her. It happened for a while, the video also showed she did try to get away a few times but he kept on touching her then you came over. That's when all of that happened" the officer points at the guy, pertaining to his swollen eyes

"Is she getting charged for anything?"

"It showed in the video too that he shoved you first before you defended yourself"

"He pushed you?" Seungcheol looks down at you, brows furrowed

"Yeah he did, he still won't let go of my friend so I went up to him. He pushed me when I tried to tell him off, that's when I punched him"

"YOU CAME AT ME!"

"Can I press charges against him?" Seungcheol asks

"CHEOL! It's fine, I'm fine. I'm not the one attacked here, we'll deal with it later" you looked up at him, speaking through your eyes.

Seungcheol might give of alpha vibes but one look from you and he'd heel.

"Is there anything else?" you ask the officer "That's it, we got your testimony. You may go now" you thank the officer before standing up from your seat and lacing your hands with your fiancé's.

You hear the other man's protests but you don't look back, going out the same door Seungcheol walked in a few minutes ago.

Before you go, you talked to your workmate and made sure she's okay. Her boyfriend arrived shortly then you bid goodbye.

The two of you walk out the station hand in hand, Seungcheol helps you get inside the car before jogging over the driver's side. He waits until you're buckled in before driving away.

You didn't like the silence. No music, just the low hum of the engine and your own heartbeat.

"Cheol, are you mad at me?"

"Of course not, baby. Pissed at that man for putting his hands on you? Pushing you? Absolutely. I don't even let mosquitos bite you, and he thinks he can just do that? Some men really aren't shit. Sorry" he mumbles an apology after swearing, always careful and respectful when he's around you.

To Seungcheol, you're the most precious, most important person in his life. He would do anything and everything to make sure you're always safe. He also knows you're a protector, you protect those who are close to you. You always do right, ready to defend. Hence why he swore to be your defender too. Be your number one protector.

You smile upon hearing your fiancé’s words, reaching out to squeeze his thigh. He takes your hand and laces it with his own, feeling the metal band on your finger against his skin.

"You sure you're okay? You aren't hurt anywhere?" his voice suddenly turning more gentle, the Cheol only you get to witness

"I'm good, baby. I promise" you pull your intertwined hands, kissing the back of his hand before resting it on your lap.

"Give me that man's name"

"Why?"

"If he's doing it to random women, then about those in his workplace or other women he knows? I'll take care of it, don't you worry"

You look at him, watching him closely. He feels your stare on him so he squeezes your hand to assure you, "I'm not going to get in any trouble I promise"

"Okay. No punching alright?"

When he don't say anything you say his name

"Fine, I promise no punching, I'll just ask Mingyu to do it for me"

"Gyu wouldn't hurt a fly, he's all height no fight" you chuckle

"Oh by the way, Han has something to give to you. It's at the back"

When you stop at a red light, Seungcheol lets go of your hand to reach behind your seat to get a black plastic bag then gives it to you

"What's this?" you look inside to see it's content

"Tofu? Really?"

"Han said to give it to you" he laughs, taking your hand again before resuming the drive

"You tell your other wife I'll punch him next time I see him"

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.

[mackeydoodledoo]

She Wears Short Skirts, I Wear T-Shirts: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bridget (Cheerleader AU) x (Fem!)Reader

Chapter Summary: Being in band wasn't the most popular among the student body... Being in a band was: everyone in that school fawns over students who are in a band. You and your friends are the only band in the entire s. But, none of them know... You live two different lives: Drum Captain by day, Drummer by night. The school's Cheer Captain happened to attend one of your shows...

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Swearing

Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, F/n = Friend's name, B/n = Band Name, Bold/Italic = Flashback

Chapter Theme: Honest - The Home Team

A/n: I read somewhere that someone (I forgot who, so idea credit goes to them) wanted a Bridget Cheerleader AU, so here it is :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Y/n's POV* You ruffle your hair after stepping out of the band room; about to leave the school after a successful football game, however, bump into the wall after a football player shoulders you.

"Whoops, sorry nerd!" He chuckles, walking off with his jock friends

"You alright?" F/n asks

"Yeah," You sigh, "I hate that they're so successful, yet in real life, they're jerks..."

"They're going to peak in high school when they graduate," They tell you, "Besides, we have a gig tomorrow night."

Ahh...

Your 'second life'. Your most favored part of your life over your actual one.

"We're headlining this one for once," They say, "Big achievement for a small town band."

It was...

Normally, slightly bigger bands would ask you to be an opener for the opener that was touring with them. Your band didn't have the funds to travel. Yet. That was the end goal: To tour with a headlining band. Maybe even headline a tour...

"Y/n, you there?" F/n calls you out

"Hmm?" You look at them blankly

"You were imaging us headlining... Weren't you?" They ask

"No!" You lie

"Save that for when we tour with a headlining band," They say, "Come on, I'm tired, let's get out of this shit hole already..."

You follow them out to the parking lot and see a familiar face... Bridget: the School's Cheer Captain. The both of you are in the same grade. But, you never really noticed her until she joined the Cheer Team. Your friend elbows you.

As you watch the football game: Your team leading by a whole ton of points, you eyes drift down to the track, normally where the cheerleaders were attempting to hype the student section or the families who either watch their football team offspring or the band offspring.

Your eyes drift to the only girl with bright pink hair. By coincidence, she looks up at you too. You look down at your drum head, trying to not look flustered. However, when you look back at her, she's looking away too; a deep rose color upon her cheekbones.

"Let's go Dragons!!!" She, and her cheer girls scream

"Y/n!" Bridget runs up to you

"Oh! Hey, Bridge," You smile, trying to greet her casually

"I'm heading home, I'll see you tomorrow Y/n," Your friend walks ahead

You try to protest and try to keep your friend with you, however, was too far ahead.

"You waiting for a ride?" You ask

"No, you?" She asks

"I live close enough to not need to drive," You say, "Want some company to walk you home?"

"Sure, that'd be great," She smiles

You've met her a handful of times, but never really had any chances such as this one: the both of you have a one-on-one. She was also one of the popular girls. Not the traditional mean girl.

You lead your drumline mates onto the track. As you set up your drum onto its stand, the cheerleaders run over to you guys. You look up and see Bridget smiling ear to ear right in front of you.

"Captain," You tilt your shako, smiling

She runs over to her friends and squeals as they fawn over your other upper classmen drumline mates.

As you check to make sure your drum mates had their drums securely on their stands; you drum a rhythm and the others follow along. The cheerleaders gawking.

"I'm surprised that you girls gawk over the drumline over the football players," You joke

"Please, drumline has more dignity," She rolls her eyes playfully

"Pfft, wouldn't be sure about that," You chuckle under your breath

+*+

You follow Bridget as she walks to your neighborhood; unsure how to make conversation...

"What's going on tomorrow?" She asks

"Oh... Just stuff for band," You say

"What kind of 'stuff'?" She asks

"just band stuff," You say, "No one here really enjoys the band... I can always hear them talk over our halftime shows..."

"I try to be invested," She confesses, "But all of my friends drag me into their conversations. The drum stuff you do with your drumline sounds really cool..."

"Yeah?" You ask, your eyes nearly lighting up, "Well... That drum break was arranged by yours truly."

"Really?!" She asks, her eyes lighting up, "I didn't know you arranged music too!"

"It isn't that hard when you understand the basics of music," You say

"Wish I continued with music," She says, "But, it was too difficult for me..."

"Maybe one day," You say, "I like it when you guys do some stuff with us."

"My favorite is when you bring the drumline down to us and we just hype y'all up as you play. Seeing all the cool tricks is absolutely mind-blowing!"

"Oh.. That," You chuckle, "Yeah, I enjoy those too."

You follow her up a sidewalk, leading to her front door. You remain at the bottom as she ascends the two steps.

"Thanks for walking me home," She slightly smiles

"You're welcome," You reply

"You get home safe too, alright?" She asks

"Yeah, I will," You say

You wait until she closes the door behind her. You plug music into your ears as you walk the way you came.

I didn't know she lived down the street from me....

+*+

You and your guitarist haul in your personal drum set as your friend: the bassist and lead singer set up their own thing.

"Nice of you to help me, f/n," You sigh, setting down the kick drum

"Hey, do you want to tune these babies?" They ask

"As if I'll touch a stringed instrument," You scoff

"Come on, you play basically everything!" They whine

"Drums is more my territory," You say, taking the high-hat from your guitarist

+*+

You sit at the merch table as the openers go on. Your band couldn't afford to hire someone as your merch runner, so there would be two of you working the merch booth. At the end of the gigs, two of you would run to the merch table and the remaining lot would load instruments outside.

You rotated with two of your other friends once the next band began playing. You warm up your hands with some rhythms as you listen to some songs, trying to sound out the opener's rhythms.

You only stop when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"They're on the last song, let's get ready," F/n says

+*+

Two of you rush out to the merch table as soon as the gig ended: in case any patron would want to buy merch.

"You guys were really good!"

"You guys are underrated!"

"How are you guys not famous yet?!"

Many new fans would ask you that question. You only reply with: "Thank you!", or, "We've been working towards being a big band.". Along those lines.

Once the patrons had gone, you begin breaking down your merch table after a successful show.

"Y/n?!" A familiar voice calls your name

Your head shoots up, "Bridget?!"

"I knew you looked familiar!" She says, "I didn't know you were in a band!"

"I..." You try to find some kind of excuse

"Go on, I'll take over," F/n says

You get up and stand in front of her...

"Uhm.... You want to step outside?" You ask

She nods, she gently takes your hand and begins to lead you out of the venue.

"Where's your friends?" You ask

"They headed home right at the end of your set," She says

"And... You didn't go with them?" You ask

"I had to be sure the drummer was you," She says, "Let alone we have two of our school's band members in an actual band."

"Well, I like to keep that on the down low," You say

"What? And not be popular at school?" She asks

"Popular isn't our thing," You say, "Besides, we prefer to get famous from the outside."

"Oh..." She says

"So," you clear your throat, changing the subject, "What brought you here?"

"My friends and I were here for one of the openers," She explains, "It only took us a few

"Guess I gotta drive you home now," You joke

You weren't really joking...

"Would you have room?" She asks

"For you? Always," You half smile

She smiles as she looks down, blushing.

You help your friends load the merch into your friend's SUV and bid each other goodnight.

"I try to keep my front seat clear," You say

"In case you bring girls home?" She jokes

"No," You say, bluntly, "For my food run."

She tosses her hair ver her shoulder, huffing. You could see the joke in her gesture...

"It's my own kind of tradition that I get food after a gig," You say, "Drumming makes me hungry. You saw how I was whamming on my drums."

You pull out from the venue and make your way to the nearest late night fast food place.

"Want anything?" You ask

"Just... A water," She says

"Just a water?" You ask, "Please don't tell me you cheerleaders have a strict diet..."

She's silent...

"Come on, one junky meal won't kill you," You say, "Besides..."

You tuck hair behind her ear to look at her in the eyes...

"I don't like it when people in my car starve themselves," You say, "So, please.. Eat something... The venue only had snack items... Which is why I made this post-gig food a tradition. Never really had a passenger join me on the adventure.. So that makes you a first."

You order yourself and Bridget food. You drive to a secluded spot and begin indulging in your food.

"Don't you cheerleaders have your own tailgates at the football games?" You ask

"We do, but I barely eat," She explains, "I get really anxious and when I get anxious, food doesn't settle well."

"I understand that," You say

"You do?" She asks

"Yeah," You say, "I also get nervous before every performance I have. I try to not eat too much so that when I do feel nervous, I don't get nauseous."

"Guess we're more alike than we think," She sighs

You slowly make your way back to your neighborhood; praying the night won't end... However, her tapping your arm resting on the gear shift takes you out of your thoughts.

"Thanks for taking me home," Bridget says

"Anytime," You say

"I know this'll sound stupid but ummm... Could I get a picture with you?" She asks

"Sure," You chuckle

She squeals as she situates herself to face her phone camera properly. You lean over the center console and nearly stiffen as she puts her hand on your cheek. As soon as she snaps the photo the both of you look back at the photo: your head lingering on her shoulder.

"You want a setlist too?" You ask

"Yes!" She squeals

You reach into your pocket and hand her a folded piece of paper. She immediately unravels it and she squeals again. She Nearly leaps over the center console and wraps her arms around your neck.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She smiles

"Always," You chuckle

She steps out of your car, and leans down to meet your eyes.

"See you Monday," She waves you off

Again, you wait for her to enter her house, and fully close the door before you drive down the street to your house.

Chapter 2

[sukisheadlights]

MAKE ME STAY!

landonorris x famous!oc

summary: where she sends the Internet into a slow spiral after releasing a song out of the blue (except it’s not out of the blue, it’s papaya)

part 1: make me stay, series masterlist

faceclaim: dua lipa 🫶

rory’s voice mail 🎧: PART 1! hope you guys like this, it’s obviously going to be a slow burn but I’m really excited to write it for y’all <3 ALSO the first two chapters are gonna be a little slow to set up the story and a strong base for it 😚 LOVE YOU SAY IT BACK

@TMZ • 2 hours ago

Exclusive: F1 phenom Lando Norris spotted leaving Las Vegas after-party with a mysterious redhead!

Rumors are swirling that F1 racing superstar Lando Norris may have found a new love interest in Las Vegas!

The 22-year-old McLaren driver was spotted leaving the after-party of the FIA Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix with a gorgeous gal on his arm.

Our source spotted Lando and the mystery woman leaving together and said the pair appeared to be "flirty", as Lando "wrapped his arm around her" and they "walked off into the night."

@THEHOLLYWOODFIX • 2 hours ago

It looks like F1 driver Lando Norris is getting back into his dating game!

After breaking up with his long-term girlfriend last year, our favorite driver was seen leaving the Formula 1 Las Vegas after party with a mysterious red-haired woman dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress.

We're not sure if this is just a one night stand, or if Lando has his sights set on someone new. Either way, we wouldn't blame him - the Formula 1 Las Vegas parties are known for being a hot spot for celebrities and models alike!

liked by paisleysterling, zendaya, and 8,75,784,894 others

lizcolton miss me?

paisleysterling no girl gtfo of my house 🙄

lizcolton stfu you love me

paisleysterling god I hate you

lizownsme UH YES?!!?! THE RED HAIRR???? ITS GIVING NEW ERA 🫣

user654 the world is NOT READY for whatever lizzy is cooking rn

user849 literally buy me

taylorswift stunning as always!! ❤️

tittieswhere BOTH MY MOTHERS ARE HERE OMFGGG TAYLOR GET HER TO OPEN FOR YOU

lewishamilton pic creds to me, btw.

lizcolton he took the pictures, or whatever 🙄

user4 EXCUSE ME WTAF ARE YOU DOING HERE

user9 @user4 it’s giving “excuse me what the actual fuck are you doing in my house—”

isoldmysoultof1 WHAT WHAT WHAAAT

isoldmysoultof1 @f1wags NEW F1 WAG POSSIBLY?!!?!!

@TMZ • 45 mins ago

Pop Sensation Liz Colton is Back!

Liz, who's long been hailed as a retro-pop phenomenon and one of the biggest social media stars, has just announced her return to the spotlight after a two-year break! Liz had been absent from public life following her rough breakup with actor Jacob Elordi.

Now, the queen of pop has set the Internet ablaze with a photo of herself sporting a sleek new red do and rocking an all-leather look, accompanied by the caption 'miss me?' Fans are abuzz!

In addition, Colton has been recently spotted interacting comfortably with Formula One superstar Lewis Hamilton in her social media comment sections! Hamilton, who is a known celebrity himself, has even asked Colton to give more picture credits, making fans hope that she's ready to expand her network and step into the world of Formula 1.

Could this mean the start of a whole new era for Liz?

liked by paiselysterling, sabrinacarpenter, and 9,34,748,830 others

lizcolton the face of a person keeping secrets 🤐

comments disabled.

@TMZ • 1 min ago

BREAKING NEWS!

It looks like Jacob Elordi, the "Euphoria" heartthrob who recently broke up with longtime girlfriend Liz Colton, was caught in a compromising position.

Just months after Liz and Jacob decided to split, details have emerged that the Australian actor cheated on his girlfriend multiple times. While neither Liz nor Jacob have commented publicly on the situation, fans have been quick to blast the actor for his apparent indiscretions.

With a successful career and multiple projects in the works, it looks like Jacob's reputation is about to take a dip.

liked by alexademie, sydneysweeney, and 8,59,499,484 others

lizcolton kisses to my exes, out 8pm tonight 💋

paisleysterling ATE

paisleysterling first picture’s for someone special?? I KNOW YOU BITCH

liked by lizcolton

lizcoltonsslave MOTHER ISNT SINGLE ANYMORE!?

lizcolton @lizcoltonsslave single as HELL baby!! Y’all haven’t lost me yet dw 😚

lizcoltonsslave @lizcolton bye I’m about to go die in a hole now

lewishamilton roscoe is ready to stream

lizcolton @lewishamilton thanks ig 🤨

wagintraining @lewishamilton LEWIS LIZ OMG LIZ ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE DRIVERS!?

lizcolton @wagintraining no comments

coltonhq headphones are ready!! 🎧🤍

lizcolton @coltonhq love u admin 😭💋

lizismother18 oh this is gonna EAT

[thirstingfortoxicmen]

dom male reader x sub sebastian sallow WHERE THEYRE THEYRE THEYRE ENEMIES N LIKE READER STARTS GETTING CLOSE W SOMEONE ELSE N SEBASTIAN GETS JEALOUS N ONE DAY HE GETS ENOUGH OF IT AND DRAGS READER SOMEWHERE N THEY HAVE HATE SEX HELP IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT

OMG I LOVE IT! your wish shall be granted✨✨✨👍

Edit: OOPS I JUST WROTE THIS WHOLE THING THEN SAW THE HATE SEX PART NOOOOO IM SORRYYYYYY

Im skipping some plot.... just cause no reason🤭

(not my photo credit to Pinterest for fueling my mental issues)✨✨✨

Jokes on You

Sub Sebastian x Dom male Reader

🔞CAUTION SEX (ig)🔞

---

"Ok, tonight was a little crazy so go and get some rest. Ok Natty?"

"Yeah I still can believe we escaped on hippogriffs!" Natty whispered back. Her hands still shaking slightly. I embrace her for a quick hug before we part. Being quiet I move quickly down to the Slytherin rooms. Once I safely make it to the dungeons a sigh of relief washes over me. My head aches slightly from the stress of fleeing Harlow and his cronies. Slipping through the door into the common room I gasp slightly.

"So... you want to tell what you've been doing?" Sebastian questions, glancing at me from his book.

"Well you see I... uhhh... Natty needed help with somethingandIcouldntjustsaynoso-" My voice speeding up as I talk, eyes flicking around the room.

"You're lying. Tell me the truth." He demands, with a stern voice. I finally make eye contact with him and give him a sigh.

"I- fine... Natty and I were out... investigating someone and we got attacked BUT! before you freak out, we're fine nothing bad happened!" I explain, guilt lingering on my words. For lying to Sebastian and for betraying Natty even after I swore not to tell anyone about our... excursions.

"And you didn't think to just," pausing himself with a sigh, "I don't know tell me before you endanger yourself and making me think you were with someone else." rubbing his temples stress clear on his face.

"... what? you thought I was cheating on you? Sebastian I would nev-"

"yeah well when i barely see my own boyfriend for three whole days and when I do see him he's with some girl! I don't know what to think ok!" he almost yells, cutting me off. Remembering that it's past curfew and neither of us are meant to still be up quiets Sebastian. I take a cautious step to him, unknowing of his reaction. I rest my hand on his cheek, I pull his face to face my own. Our eyes connect, frustration weeping from him.

"I would Never. cheat on you Sebastian. I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. I didn't think it would hurt you so. I'll tell you next time," I speak low and soft, his attention on my eyes. Kissing him sweetly, closing my eyes resting our foreheads against each other when we part.

"Next time? How much trouble do you need in one year to be satisfied?" Sebastian moves his hand to mine, our hands resting together on his cheek. Grabbing my hand, intwining our fingers. He says, "come on." before trying to drag me into the corner of the common room.

"Where- what are we doing now?" i ask confusedly.

"I'm a teen boy who hasn't seen his boyfriend for three days. Take a guess." Blushing at the realization. Sebastian pushes me against the wall next to the lake, our lips clashing. Sweet turns to heavy, our tongues fighting. Biting his lip takes him off guard, I flip us pushing him to the stone wall. The chill of the stone coursing through him, a shiver runs down his body. Leaning down I continue making out with my boyfriend, pressing my leg against his groin. A groan from Sebastian letting my tongue gain dominance. His hips stuttering into my leg. "Please... I need you," he says, the slight whine of his voice going straight to my growing member. Grasping his thighs I lift him up, pressing him against the wall. Sliding his sleep pants down, just enough I spit onto my fingers. Stretching him and teasing him at the same time. I kiss his neck, his face blushing from his sensitivity. Soft groans leaking from his lips like a faucet. "I need you- now please..." his words drawing out slowly. Shuttering from his words, I complied. Hastily removing my belt and unbuttoning my pants before spitting in my hand once more rubbing it up and down my length, till I deemed good enough. Lowering him softly onto my hard cock. He jolts with a moan. Precum leaking from his cock. I start thrusting, I groan softly into Sebastians ear. His face now beat red, I bite into his shoulder. Once I do that he clenches hard and moans rather loudly. Still holding Sebastian I move from the wall to a nearby couch. Sebastian, now the one who has to lean down, resumes our making out from earlier. I grab his throat gently, squeezing intermittently. Sebastians eyes fluttering softly his cock hitting against his stomach with every thrust up. His red tip throbbing with anticipation. I hit his prostate, "I- need to- ahh please- can i," his voice pleading me. I start reaching my limit.

"Come for me Sebastian," I whispered into his ear. I bite down once more, Sebastians cum hitting our chests. His groaning tip me over the edge I cum into Sebastian. Both of us breathing heavy, we wait for a moment before separating. Cum falling from Sebastian when he lifts off my member.

"I've missed you."

"Jokes on you. Now you can't get rid of me," a chuckle escaping from Sebastian.

"Good."

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

... A Thousand Words: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: A man commits suicide and leaves behind tattoos that tell a story about the victims he's killed, and the one that's still alive.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"A sincere artist tries to create something which is, in itself, a living thing." - Painter William Dobell

It's the weekend and you're really excited to get off. You have something special planned for Spencer, a date. You bought some food you get to cook together, candles, flowers, the whole nine yards. After dinner, you'll watch a romantic movie that you've been wanting him to see with you.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Spencer asks.

"Of course. I can't wait to make dinner with you. We'd watch a movie and probably wouldn't even make it to the end." Spencer pulls you in by your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck. "I'd take you to bed and have my way with you."

Spencer leans down and kisses you.

"More like I'd have my way with you," he mumbles against your lips.

You can't help but giggle at his words. Bedroom!Spencer is a lot different than Public!Spencer. You like that only you get to see that version of it.

"Hey, what are you two doing?" You pull away from Spencer and see Derek walking into the bullpen. "You know what, don't answer that."

"We're having date night tonight."

"You might have to put that off," JJ says. "We have a case that just came in."

"Are you serious?" you groan.

"We'll have date night when we come back."

"Fine," you sigh.

"There goes my sin-to-win weekend in Atlantic City," Emily sighs.

"Sin-to-win?" Derek asks.

All she does is smirk. All of you walk to the briefing room to discuss the case.

"I talked to a Tallahassee detective who's been working on a missing woman case, Rebecca Daniels. She went missing while jogging near the FSU campus three weeks ago."

She passes out the file that was sent to her which includes photos of Rebecca and an unknown male with blood on his face. His entire body is covered with tattoos. Some are portraits of women and dates underneath their pictures and vines and branches spread out over his body. 

"Who is this?"

"Florida state police responded to an apparent suicide an hour and a half ago for a middle-aged male. Those are photos of him postmortem."

"What's with the tattoos?"

"He's covered with them. That's why they requested our presence. The tattoos are portraits of previously missing women with the years of death or the years the remains were recovered. The tattoos correlate to faces on a wall next to the body with information on the women going back ten years. Rebecca is also shown on that wall but there's no image of her on the body. The detective thinks that that may mean that she's alive somewhere."

"He called in his own suicide, didn't he?" you ask.

"Yeah, how did you--"

"He staged all this. No reason to put on a show without an audience," you shrug. 

"Tell them to leave the body where it is," Hotch says. "We need to see it exactly how he wanted it seen. If this girl's still out there, the only one who knows where she is is dead."

After arriving in Florida, you drive to the small cabin where the man killed himself. Hotch parks and you face the hot and humid Florida weather. Virginia doesn't get as bad as Florida so you're not used to feeling this humid heat. You step out of the car and feel like you've just gotten out of a shower.

"Oh, this heat is brutal," Derek groans.

"You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity," Spencer says.

"At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks."

"FBI?" An older white man approaches your team. "I'm John Barton, Tallahassee PD. I'm the primary on the missing girl, Rebecca Daniels. I got my files in the car if you need them."

"I'm Agent Hotchner. This is Agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Y/N, and Dr. Reid."

"Thank you for coming out so quickly. I appreciate that. I've also confirmed that all the women on his body are victims from around Southeast Florida, Louisiana, Georgia, and Alabama."

"Rebecca's the only woman on the wall who isn't on his body?"

"Yeah, she's the only one. Hope you have a strong stomach."

He takes you into the small cabin and the stench of death hits you like a freight train. You have to stop yourself from bending over and emptying your stomach. It's like if someone left out something to spoil in the sun but turned up the smell a thousand notches. All of your team covers their noses to block out the smell but it doesn't help much. The man is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room with his back turned to you. If you didn't know he was dead, you would have thought he was just sitting there. There is a small bulletin board to the right of his body that has pictures of all the missing women that are tattooed onto his body except for Rebecca. She's on the wall but she isn't on his body.

"The chair was turned like that? This is exactly the way you found him?" Hotch asks.

"Yeah. There are also a couple of boxes with journals and composition books." He points to the boxes in the corner of the room. "They're filled with writing. We haven't been through them yet other than to dust them for prints."

You grab some gloves and walk around to face the man. You have a much clearer view of his tattoos, and you bend over slightly to see them better.

"Have you identified him?" you ask.

"We're working on it. We got a rush on the DNa and the prints. He's cleared locally but it's gonna take some time to get the national records."

"What about property records?"

"I talked to the owner of this cabin. She said she rented it a couple of weeks ago to a quiet, normal-looking guy named Bob. He said he wanted to store some equipment and paid in cash."

"Yeah, they're always normal," Rossi scoffs.

"Did he sign a lease?"

"Not with month-to-month. Out here in the boonies, you don't get a lot of record-keeping types, especially when it comes to cash transactions."

"He's no kid yet the missings go back only ten years?"

"As far as I can tell," John nods. "Do you see this a lot? Guys killing themselves?"

"Most serial killers who commit suicide do it in prison after they're caught," you answer.

"JJ, gather as much information about the prior victims as you can. Morgan and Prentiss, take the journals. Y/N and Reid, the tattoos and see if he left any clues about where Rebecca might be," Hotch orders.

"Do you think there is a chance she might be alive?" John asks.

"It's probably better not to speculate. May I take a look at the case files you have on Miss Daniels, please?"

"Yeah, no problem."

You look at the ceiling to see blood on the chandelier right above the man. He shot upward so his blood and brains would have been splattered on the light above.

"Why is it when men kill themselves it gets everywhere, but women don't leave a mess like they were never there?" an officer asks.

"Women worry about who has to clean up. Men don't give a damn," you answer.

"JJ, what have you found?"

You look over and see Hotch and JJ by the bulletin board.

"The earliest clipping is from ten years ago, and they're in order, oldest to newest. Brenda Carlyle first, Rebecca last. One victim a year for ten years straight. Each girl's remains were recovered in a well-traveled wooded area. All were strangled and repeatedly sexually assaulted, and then about a week later, another woman went missing."

"Did the new abductions happen before the previous bodies were found?"

"No, never."

"So, he has a year-long cycle. He uses them up and he gets a newer model. He won't take another girl until the last body's been found. He's telling a story and he can't start a new one until the old one's over."

"Look at this." You turn back to Spencer. You lean in to see what he's looking at and see a rose tattoo on the man's right forearm. "At the turn of the 16th century, rose tattoos were put on men who were sentenced to death. If they escaped, it served to identify them. Now, roses pretty much symbolize pure love."

Your rose looks better than this. He must have gotten it a really long time ago since it's faded and the lines have started to blend together.

"Pure love," you scoff, "right before he kills them."

"Have you read 'The Illustrated Man'?" Spencer asks you.

"Yes," you smirk. "You read it to me. Remember? I couldn't fall asleep so you picked a book out and read to me until I fell asleep."

The book is a collection of short stories written by Ray Bradbury based on the metafictive device of a man who is covered in tattoos drawn by a woman from the future. At night, the tattoos come to life and tell a story. You fell asleep in the middle of him reading it to you so you don't know how it ends.

"Right," Spencer blushes. "Well, my point is that these tattoos tell a story."

"Check this out."

The officer turns the man slightly so you can see his back. On his shoulder blade is an empty spot surrounded by tree branches. Nothing is in the spot. Was this meant to be for Rebecca once she was killed?

"Why would he leave that space blank?"

"Maybe this guy's just a psycho."

"If it were that simple, we'd all be out of a job," you chuckle.

"Hey, Reid," Derek calls from the stacks of journals. You smirk already knowing what they want from him. Spencer leaves your side and walks over to them, and they are close enough for you to hear what they're saying. "Our man here was a prolific journalist with teeny tiny handwriting."

"He probably had counseling at some point when journaling was part of his therapy."

It's cute how he doesn't get what they're silently asking. He's such a sweetheart.

"That's what we were thinking," Emily nods.

Spencer's eyes narrow in suspicion. "And?"

"Well, you know, with the two of us, it would take us like three days to read all of this stuff."

Recognition comes over Spencer's face. He sighs and grabs the notebook from Derek.

"You guys owe me."

"Trust me, I think Y/N will do the thanking for us later," Derek smirks and winks at you.

Spencer sits down on an empty crate and begins reading through the journals as fast as he can. His brain has never failed to amaze you. You truly have a one-of-a-kind.

"It's no wonder no one ever connected these cases. They're from different states and different jurisdictions," JJ says, pulling you back into focus.

"It's probably no accident. He knows the system."

"Why kill himself now? He wasn't on anyone's radar."

"Something changed." Everyone gathers around Hotch and the dead man except for Spencer who is flying through the notebooks. "So, what do we know so far?"

"He wanted the police here. He wanted us to see all this, and he was definitely a sadist. From what we saw, his journals were graphic and meticulous," Derek says.

"Covering himself with his victims' likeness is methodical and possessive. He'll always own them, and the suicide shows commitment."

"He's organized and compulsive. The crimes are on an annual cycle. The computer printouts on the board were all printed on the same day, two weeks ago."

"That's when he rented this building," John says, "and proceeded to move everything into it. It's a history of his crimes."

"He did all of this in two weeks?" you ask.

"He got away with it for ten years. He could have kept going, but he decided to end it all and hand everything to us."

"That's it." Spencer jumps up and approaches the group. "Everything. His body, the tattoos, the clippings, the printouts, and the journals. He moved it all into one room. He wanted us to see all of it. See all of him... his work... the women... He put them in chronological order. He wants us to look at him."

"Yeah, we know," Rossi says.

"No, but think about it. If you take a step back, it sort of makes sense. It's just a confession. A giant, flashy confession. What would we say if an unsub turned himself into the police before they were even onto him?"

"He was trying to hide something... or someone," you say.

"He made a mistake in his third book. I almost missed it but then I caught it." Spencer flips the pages and begins reading. "I thought it would take longer but today was my lucky day. She almost walked right by, and I almost missed her completely. At the last moment, we found our latest guest."

"We?"

"He has a partner. He put everything in this room so we wouldn't look further and wouldn't dig even deeper."

"If he has a partner, he's still out there, and he's got Rebecca."

There is commotion outside and you look through the window to see that the media has arrived. JJ immediately leaves to deal with the press while you walk outside to watch her.

"What is she doing down there?" John asks from behind you.

You turn to see him, Hotch, Derek, and Emily outside.

"She's trying to keep the media from running the story right now."

"Wouldn't that help us get it out there and put some pressure on the partner?"

"If the partner didn't know about the suicide, he might dispose of Rebecca and disappear," you answer. "If anyone can stop the media from running something, it's JJ."

"Let's profile the partner. We know that the unsub was a dominant personality and an alpha. Can any of you guys think of a case where a dominant unsub committed suicide to protect a submissive partner?" Emily asks.

"No."

"So, the partner must be an equal in some way, or at least not a competitor, not somebody that he needed to feel dominance over. Maybe it was someone he cared about?"

"It would be hard for a sadistic psychopath to care about anybody," Hotch says, "which would make the partner all that much more important to him."

"Could it be a woman?" you ask.

"Maybe," Hotch nods. "What about the tattoo artist? He couldn't have done those by himself. Maybe that's the role of the partner. It would certainly make him important."

"What the hell does any of this have to do with Becky?" John's anger seeps out of him like a mist he can't control. "I mean, isn't there something we should be doing, damn it?"

"Detective, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Hotch takes John off to the side just as JJ joins your group.

"So, we have until the evening news at six tonight."

"How much do they know?"

"Oh, the troopers told them everything."

You walk back inside the cabin and call Penelope since you're going to need her help if you're going to accomplish anything before six.

"Agent Y/N, please tell me you called because the case is over and I can erase this freaky freak off my otherwise uber-delicious desktops."

"Long way to go, sugar."

"I am into epiderm artistry as much as the next gen-xer, but this guy... eesh. I'm just glad he's not breathing the same air as you, my fine furry friends."

"Agreed. What have you found out about tattoo artists down here?"

"That the state of Florida requires licensing for all skin illustrators. I am not going to elaborate on how I know this but not everyone in the body art lifestyle goes through official channels."

"Oh, you're definitely telling that story when we get back," you joke. "Uh, start with the legit ones and see if anyone recognizes the work."

"I shall send you the list to your PDA."

"Send them to Rossi. Thanks." You look at Spencer who is running his finger down the page before turning it and doing the same exact thing. "Baby?" Spencer looks up. "Are you good?"

"Yeah," he smiles and goes back to reading.

You walk back outside and join the group that now has Rossi in it.

x

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[intoanotherworld23]

Princes Choice II

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: None maybe just some minor tension

Summary: Everyone knows about the royal family the Evanses, especially their promiscuous son, Chris. Then one night they invite all the women, and their parents to a ball to make a major announcement that will change your life forever

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal it or take credit for it without my permission or else I will have you reported✨

Part 1

"Is there a guest room where I can stay?" Politely asking the queen as you stood in Chris's massive bedroom. "I just don't feel comfortable staying here just yet."

"Oh is something the matter?" She genuinely looked concerned that something happened between you and her son.

"No nothings wrong." Waving your hands back and forth relief flushed across her face. "It's just I would feel much better with my own room at least until I start getting to know him better."

"Of course we've prepared one for you just in case." She smiled warmly at you as she led you further down the hall. "If you'll follow me."

There were no way in hell that you were going to be staying in the same bed as him. He'd probably jump you first thing, and then say he was bored or make up some lame reason to break it off. Not doubting his natural talent for lying just to get what he wants.

Although his mother looked a tad disappointed when you made the comment you did. Almost like she expected you to just accept everything, and enjoy jumping in his bed. She was also probably just thrilled that he picked someone to marry anyway.

"Your here as a guest you know." She spoke as you looked over at her. "You can leave anytime you want."

"I guess I'm just still having a hard time believing that he picked me to be his wife." Her eyes remained straight ahead.

"I honestly didn't believe he would pick someone either." She admitted with a chuckle. "He was so against this at first, and when he knew we were serious he accepted things."

"Has he ever wanted to marry?" Timidly asking her as she looked over at you this time.

"Never. He's been against marriage ever since he was a young boy." Her words didn't comfort you, but the smile she gave you suggested he's changed.

"I hope this is more to your liking." Stepping into another large room this one feeling more warm and comforting.

"This is perfect." You smiled turning to face the queen. "Thank you so much."

"Chris is in his study right now, but he should be down by dinner time." She informed you even though you didn't ask.

"What time is dinner?"

"Dinner will be served by eight." Talking about food had your stomach grumbling.

"Should I wear anything specific?" Looking down at your jeans and shirt feeling like a slob compared to her.

"A dress would be appropriate." Nodding your head noticing your discomfort right away. "But you wear whatever feels comfortable to you."

"Thank you your majesty." Bowing your head down.

"Please call me Lisa."

"Thank you.. Lisa." You we're just glad she was sweet and kind, and not rude and cruel like some people said she was.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked hands clasped in front of her.

"Oh no thank you I'm good." Bowing her head down to you.

"If you need anything at all please don't hesitate to let me know." Nodding back at her as she curtsied turning back around to walk back down the hall.

Plopping down on the bed the thick comforter cushioning your bottom as you looked around. Leaning back on the palms of your hands shaking your head back and forth not believing you were actually here. Wondering if maybe you were just dreaming this, and you couldn't find it in yourself to wake up.

Your mother bawled the whole time as you packed. Rolling your eyes as she told story after story of when you were little. She was more happy about this marriage then you were. Your father really didn't show too much expression, but he didn't dare to object to this marriage. Your mother would kill him.

Standing up you went over to your small bags of personal items figuring this was a good a time as any to start unpacking. This was going to be your new life now, and you might as well start accepting it. Plus you might be able to divorce him and then be done with him.

"Miss Y/L/N." A deep voice rang on the other side of the door catching your attention.

"Come in." Clearing your throat as you stood up a young man opening the door a tray in his hand.

"Sorry ma'am I was asked to bring some food to your room." His tone soft and gentle he was a good looking man.

"Oh okay thanks." Placing the tray on the table as you awkwardly stood there.

"You must be the lucky bride to be." He spoke as he stood by the door hands behind his back.

"Yep I'm the golden ticket winner." Jokingly answering which he thankfully found amusing.

"Not what you wanted huh?" His question caught you a little off guard not expecting someone like him to be talking to you like this.

"Well I'm not exactly fond of what you'd call an arranged marriage." Raising your fingers in an air quote motion.

"Yeah I wouldn't be happy if I had to marry him either." Raising your brows at him to explain further. "He's what you'd call a spoiled little boy who likes to play with his favorite toys."

"Doesn't surprise me." You scoffed realizing that night he talked to you was all a front. "I should have known he was that kind."

"That's usually how he does it. Sweet talks them, gets them into bed, and then once he's done with them he tosses them into the dirt."

"How do you know so much?" You asked him placing your hands on your hips.

"I've seen it way too many times." His tone sympathetic towards you with this information. “So many beautiful women hurt.”

"Great." Grumbling under your breath as he laughed.

"You'll be fine.  The service here is great, and the food and wine is even better." He joked teasingly cracking a smile on your lips.

"Well keep the bottles of wine coming." Pointing a finger at him with a serious but playful look on your face.

"Will do ma'am." Nodding his hand at your request.

"Please call me Y/N." Waving your hand at him. "What's your name?"

"It's Sebastian Stan."

"Well its nice to meet you Sebastian." Smiling widely at him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Staring at him for quick minute you took in such boyish qualities about this man. His eyes were soft and his skin looked smooth and warm. There was something about this man that had you feeling a sense of comfort. He seemed like he genuinely had a good heart, and wondered why you couldn't marry someone like him.

"How are you liking the castle?" He curiously asked just wanting to make small talk.

"It's a little overwhelming I gotta admit." You chuckled nervously. "I think I'm gonna need a map or something."

"The longer you stay the more familiar you'll become with the place." His words were an attempt to make you feel better. "Soon you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

"I don't know I have trouble with the backs of my hands sometimes." Cracking a lame joke but it earned you a soft chuckle.

"I should get back to my duties." Turning around to face the door. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Shutting the door behind him as you walked over to the silver tray covered in different little sandwiches and fruits. Thank god his mother caught on to how hungry you were otherwise you would have fainted before dinner.

Smacking your lips together as you devoured the sandwiches moaning at how good everything tasted. This was the best sandwich that you've ever tasted, and couldn't wait for dinner now. Wondering what kinds of delicious meals they would have prepared for you tonight.

Speaking of tonight you needed to figure out what you were going to wear. She told you to dress comfortably but you wanted to look like you belonged. Even if it wasn't exactly the ideal situation you were still living in a castle with the royal family.

Walking over to the book case with many shelves filled with books. Reading the different titles until something stood out to you. Landing on something interesting as you got into bed figuring make time go faster by reading until it was dinner time.

Looking at the clock you figured you might as well start looking for something to wear. Removing your shirt and bra tossing them in air, but not hearing them hit the ground. Shrugging it off as you walked over to the closet to find a dress. Hands on your hips as your eyes raked across the different clothes they already had packed.

"Now you just need to take your pants off." A deep voice startling you with a jump.

"What the fuck?" You screamed at the smirking man your arms covering your breasts.

"Don't stop dressing on my account." He actually dared to step closer to you making you back up into the dresser. "Not the first time I've seen a naked woman before."

"How long have you been standing there?" You asked him curiously.

"Not long enough apparently." His eyes trailing your figure then landing back on yours.

"Spy on a lot women do ya?" Your remark and tone condescending.

"I've never had the need to spy on women." He responded back truthfully. "I usually get what I want."

"God you're a pig." Scoffing at the man disliking the way he talked about women.

"You still need to take your pants off sweetheart." Looking down at your legs picturing what you looked like underneath.

"Get out." Nodding your head back towards the door but he just simply smiled back at you. "Now."

"That's no way to speak to your fiancé." Tsking like a parent scorning their child.

"Technically you've never asked me so." Feeling proud that you were right on this matter.

"Okay." Watching as he got down on one knee and you immediately started to panic.

"Well don't ask me now." Barking at him as he smiled at your reaction.

"Whatever you say sweetheart." Chuckling as he stood up with groan. "But you will become my wife."

"Yeah when hell freezes over." Grumbling under your breath but he heard it anyway.

"I can have that arranged for you if you'd like." He always had something to say back.

"Not surprised you're probably butt buddies with the devil himself." Sneering at him watching his smile slowly fading.

Not saying a word Chris stomped towards you until his chest was practically pressed up against you. Staring at you his nostrils flaring every time he inhaled. Your body was frozen to the ground unable to move. You could actually feel the heat radiating from his body.

Staring deep into his eyes as they slowly started to turn dark. He was trapping you like some helpless little animal. As much as you wanted to run away from him you couldn't find it in yourself to do that. As much as you wanted to smack him from trying to watch you change you couldn't.

His head leaning forward so his lips were barely touching the skin of your shoulder. Chris inhaling deeply to get a whiff of your scent moaning quietly his approval. You on the other hand were breathing heavily your chest heaving up and down. Your stomach was doing somersaults, and you were failing at trying to remain calm.

"If I were you I would stay on my good side." He whispered into your ear his breath hitting your skin making goosebumps appear.

"I didn't realize you had a good side." Blurting out before you could stop yourself his mouth barely touching you as he smirked loving how you didn't take his crap.

"That mouth is going to get you in trouble." Feeling his lips drag across the side of your neck to your shoulder leaving a tingling feeling on your skin.

You don't know what it was or what was happening, but you found yourself for a brief moment not wanting him to move. He smelled so good you wanted to just wrap your arms around him and hold on until your arms gave up. It was like he had you under some kind of spell and you couldn't snap out of it.

There was so much tension between you two you could cut it with a knife. Chris just wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours. You needed to break free from this trance before something happened between you two.

"Can you please leave so I can finished getting changed?" Your voice cracked and you knew Chris could hear it, but you just hoped he wouldn't say anything.

"Well since you've asked nicely." Pushing himself away from you with restraint.

Turning around to walk back towards the door stopping with his hand on the ledge. His head facing you as he looked at you with almost a look of concern of worry. Scrunching your face as you choked back whether he should say something or not.

“I never told you this but you are absolutely positively gorgeous.” You almost rolled your eyes at his sweet and tender words.

“You probably have that line memorized saying it so many times.” Scoffing as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“True but I’ve never meant it before.” He smiled genuinely making it hard for you to not smile back. “There’s just something about you.”

His eyes didn’t wonder up and down your body like you expected him to. Instead they remained glued to yours. The corner of your lip twitching as you fought to smile at him or say anything back. You felt bad not responding, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t going to fall so easily for his games.

"If you meet Sebastian Stan please stay away." Moving your head back confused to what the meaning of his words meant.

"And why should I?" You bit back.

"Just please stay away from him he's not who you think he is." Was his last warning before he shut the door behind him. The hell did he mean by that.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Reichenbach: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done with Dean and his antics. You want to leave and you're going to do whatever it takes to make him understand that he doesn't have the power here. You do.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

It doesn't matter what city you're in or what bar/strip club you're at, Dean always manages to flirt with every woman to the point where he'd like to fuck them. There is an exotic dancer in this car that Dean has his eyes set on while you're at one of the tables drinking yourself away. Dean hasn't paid you any attention since narrowly avoiding his brother, but it's not like you wanted it in the first place.

If you're being honest, you're getting kind of bored with him. It was fun in the beginning but you hate watching him sing badly, flirt with other women, and beat up any man he sees. You look over the entire bar and notice Crowley by the front door. He motions for you to follow him outside, and you listen since there is nothing else left for you to do.

You down the rest of your drink and follow the demon outside where it's much quieter.

"Look, it's no secret that we're both sick and tired of Dean's behavior and his attitude. We need to talk about his anger issues. He is getting out of control."

"He's a class-a douche," you roll your eyes.

"We need to do something. I've been in contact with Moose. He's trying to find a cure for being a demon."

"Yeah, like what we did to you? Remember that?" you chuckle.

"Unfortunately."

"Tell me one good reason why I should care."

"If he continues down this path, he's only going to be more ruthless to the point where he might kill you. I'm gonna guess you like life."

"That was weak but I guess I'll help because he's getting on my damn nerves."

Seconds later, the front door of the strip club opens and the beaten security guard throws Dean out. Two teenage boys walk past the strip club and collide with Dean. They say something insulting but before Dean can kill them, Crowley steps in.

"Kids, am I right? In my day, we respected our elders. Of course, back then, anyone over thirty was ancient. Now forty-year-olds are still living with mommy, lying on OkCupid, and taking pictures of their food."

"What do you want, Crowley?" Dean sighs.

"A chat. We need to talk about your anger-management issues."

Dean has nothing better to do, so he follows you and Crowley into the nearest bar to grab a drink. Dean motions to the bartender when he gets there for a drink while you hold up two fingers for a double.

"So, how have you been feeling? On edge? Pent-up? Unfulfilled?"

"You sound like a Viagra commercial. You do know that, right?" Dean scoffs.

"This is about the Mark. It's changed you."

"I've noticed," Dean smirks and flashes his black eyes.

"I know that you want to keep the party going. I know you want to have fun till Daddy takes the black eyes away."

"Why are you picking on me? The Mark changed her, too."

"What are you, a child?"

"She's not going around beating people left and right. The fact is that you need to kill now. It's not a want, it's a need. Face it, darling. You're an addict. Death is your drug, and you're gonna spend the rest of your life chasing that dragon."

"So?"

"So, I'm here to facilitate."

"You want me to kill for you?"

"I want you to kill for us. You're going to snap eventually. The anger and the bloodlust are gonna build up until you can't take it anymore. So, the question is, do you want to spike a civilian or someone who has it coming?"

"Who?" you ask.

"Mindy Morris. She's a caring mother, a loving wife, and a cheating hoe. After her husband, Lester discovered Mindy's affair, heated words were exchanged. In the end, Mindy wanted a divorce and fifty percent of everything. Lester doesn't want that. We live in a very materialistic world. Mindy's gonna die one way or the other. Why not take the job and feed the beast?"

"He has a point," you shrug and down the first drink.

"Fine. This is a one-time deal."

The thought of Dean killing someone with the Blade causes your Mark to itch and burn slightly. You don't like the idea of going anywhere with Dean but he is going to cause chaos and you crave that right now.

"I'm coming with you."

"I don't care what you do."

"That's a lie," you scoff and down your second drink.

Most of that afternoon is spent watching Mindy at her house until the sun goes down. You're about to get out of the car when headlights shine from the end of the road. They get closer and a car pulls into the driveway. The car's lights turn off and Dean decides to confront the person rather than go inside and do the job Crowley wants him to do.

Dean takes the passenger seat while you get in behind him. The man jumps at the sudden noise and Dean smirks at this.

"What the fuck? Who are you people?"

"Let me guess. You're Lester?"

"Who are you two?"

"Who do you think?" Dean asks, flashing his black eyes. Lester seems to recognize the demon in Dean. "What the hell are you doing here, man?"

"My contact told me this was happening, so I wanted to come down and make sure it gets done right."

"Because you're the expert, right?" you ask.

"Murder 101. When you hire someone to kill your wife, you don't want to be around when the hit goes down. It's called an alibi."

"Yeah, I know what an alibi is. I watch 'Franklin & Bash'."

"Fascinating. Listen, you sold your soul for this shit, so--"

"It's not shit. This is my life, and she flushed it down the toilet."

"Did you ever stop to think why she cheated on you?" you ask and lean back in your seat. "Maybe she's not the problem, you are."

"I'm gonna say something to you and I need you to really listen to me," Dean says, recapturing his attention. "You're a loser. Your lady in there is ten times better than you. She's an eight and you're a four and a half, at best. I don't blame her for stepping out, especially if she found you were messing around first."

"No. I-I wasn't. How do you know?" Lester sighs.

"You just got that pervy 'I'd do anything to nail my secretary' look."

"No, t-that's not--It's different when guys do it."

"Really?" you scoff.

"Yeah, it's called science. Men aren't built for monogamy because of evolution. We're programmed, you know, to spread our seed."

Dean quickly punches him in the face for that comment.

"Like anybody would want your seed," you roll your eyes.

"As I said, a loser with a capital L."

"Yeah, well, you're a punk-ass demon! You work for me now. So, get in there and do your job, you freak!"

He really shouldn't have said that.

"What are you gonna do?" Dean asks with an icy glare. "Are you gonna watch? Is that what you like to do, Lester? Watch? Well, watch this."

Dean pulls out the First Blade and stabs Lester in the chest, killing him instantly. As soon as he is dead, you feel this wave of power that comes from the Blade. This high is what you need to feel like all the time. The high seems to get at Dean, too, but it's gone as quickly as it comes.

"Killing Lester wasn't such a good idea. Crowley is gonna be pissed he lost a soul."

"Crowley can kiss my ass."

This high is replaced by annoyance. If you were a demon, you'd be a much better one than him. With the "job" done, you two head back to Crowley who is in some bar talking to two demons. As soon as he sees you two, he motions for his minions to go away.

"Dean! Y/N! How did it go?"

"Go ahead, Dean, tell him."

"You were right, Crowley. He's dead and I feel amazing."

"He?"

"Lester."

"The client? You killed the client?"

"Does it matter? He was a douche. Now, he's a dead douche."

If Crowley was on the fence about Dean before, he's over it now. He's fucking pissed like you said he was going to be.

"Of course, it matters! The deal was one dead wife for one soul. If the wife's not dead, I don't get the soul. It's math."

"I told you," you say and he shrugs.

"Okay."

Dean turns to leave but Crowley isn't done yet.

"Don't turn your back to me!" Dean turns and shoves Crowley down to the ground with a cold chuckle. "Is something funny? What do you think you're doing?"

"Whatever I want."

"Really? Because I think you don't know what you want. Tell me, Dean, what are you? A demon? If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Did you feel sorry for her? So, maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black eyes and you're working alongside me. Why don't you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?!"

"Or what? Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. I ain't your fucking bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call. Until then, stay the fuck out of my way."

"Fine," Crowley says and gets up. "It's over. What can I say? The crazy ones are good for a fling, but they're not relationship material."

"Are you done?"

"We're done. You know what, Dean? It's not me. It's you."

Crowley disappears seconds later, leaving you and Dean alone in the bar. Dean looks at you and sees a sour look on your face.

"What's your problem?"

"I'm done with your shitty attitude. You want to be the bad guy? By all means, but if you're going to be bad, be bad with a purpose. You're an even bigger dick than before."

"What are you gonna do?" Dean smirks. "Leave?"

"Yeah, maybe I will."

"I'd like to see you try," he laughs.

Oh, you will and he's not gonna like it when you finally do.

x

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[babyiamperfectforyou]

BROKEN DREAMS

(Gif credit to owners)

Summary: Roughly based on those two lines from Good in Goodbye by Madison Beer.

TW: Angst,guns, blood. Please don't read if it triggers you.

Word Count: 1.3 k

A/n: Consider this an apology blurb for not being active. We're trying to get back to writing. Also, there won't be a part 2.

Xoxo,

G and M

Masterlist

----------------------------------------------

Night was falling. Y/N had finished doing her makeup. Smoothing out her dress in anticipation and excitement, she looked at the mirror and sighed. Everything had to be perfect. Tonight was the night. Tonight, she would profess her undying love to him; she would ask him to be with her forever, sealing their bond with a promise of eternal devotion. She loved him with everything in her and wanted to take their relationship to the next level. He probably thinks so too, right? Or why would he tell her to dress up for a “very special surprise” and to meet him at the park?

It had been eight months since they had started dating. She had a dark past that she never wanted anyone to know about. After the incident, she had spiraled into the abyss of grief and rage. She had been in therapy since and it was after meeting him that she could finally breathe again. He was like the fresh breeze after a scorching summer day, bringing relief and comfort.

Y/N had met him a couple of months after moving here. He was kind and considerate, charming and goofy. He had become a pillar of support to her. She remembers the day when she asked him out. It was a hot summer day in June and they were at the beach, getting snow cones when she blurted out the question. He seemed surprised, but happy and had kissed her then and there. Thinking back now, she is pretty sure that it is one of the best decisions she had taken in her life. Grabbing her purse, she puts in it the letter she wrote for him, confessing the amount of love she has for him. She hums in satisfaction, and looks at the clock which showed her that the time was 6.45. He had asked her to meet him at the park at 7. Looking over at the mirror once again and making sure she looked perfect for the occasion, she walks out, locking the door behind her.

Reaching the park, Y/N noticed that it was eerily quiet. Nobody was there to be seen, but there was a pathway decorated with lights. She walks down the pathway and after a meter or so, it comes to a stop in a garden filled with bushes. The dim light of the moon shone over her and her heart was leaping out of her chest, he was definitely going to propose to her!

“Harry?” She calls softly,

“Where are you?”

Someone moves into the light from behind a bush and she turns around, expecting to see her lover, but was met with a tall figure and cold grey eyes. He looks at her like a predator eyeing its prey. He walks towards her and she steps backward.

Did something happen to Harry? Was he alright?

“Who are you? Where is Harry?” she asks, voice trembling.

“Oh, so you’re here to see your little lover!”, the man mocks, his face twisting into a smirk.

“Where is he? Is he alright?”, she tries again with whatever courage she can muster up.

The man says nothing and walks towards her.

Maybe Harry was attacked by this man, she thinks and her first instinct is to knock him down. When he comes at her and tries to grab her by the hand she swings her purse at his face, making him flinch. But he keeps his hold on her. She tries to claw at his face and he tries to hold her down and then … a gunshot rings out, filling the silence with terror. She feels her shoulder burn from searing pain and realization hits her… she had been shot! Clutching her hand on her shoulder, she turns around, only to be met with the most unexpected sight. Standing behind her with a gun in his hand was… Harry!

Y/N was stunned to silence. She could not form coherent thoughts. What was going on?

He walks towards her and notices her widened eyes and pale face.

“Ha.. Harry…? What is going on?”, she feels herself getting dizzy from the amount of blood she was losing and leans onto the tall man behind her.

He takes out his phone from his pocket and shows her a picture. She has to blink a few times to see who that is and then it hits her, it is the guy from the bar all those years ago.

It was a rainy night and she was standing outside a nightclub, waiting for her sister to pick her up when a drunk guy approached her. She was not interested, she told him but he was persistent. He thought she was playing hard to get and groped her. Shocked, he pushed him down onto the pavement. He was trying to get his drunk self to stand up when her sister came. Not wasting another moment, she ran towards the car, opening the door and getting in. She told her sister to go as fast as she could since the guy was running after her. The car had moved a couple metres when she heard a scream. The guy had been trying to get to her and had stepped into the traffic when a car hit him. She was traumatized to see the events unfold before her. Even though it was not her fault, she could not help but be guilty for it all. It had taken years of therapy and counselling to get her back to her old self. She later came to know that the guy was the son of a rich merchant and that his family was heartbroken about the whole situation. She felt like she had to leave the place to leave behind the ghosts of her past and found a new life in the city she lives in now.

But…how was he related to harry? She could not wrap her head around the things that were happening around her, she blinks up at her lover, eyes full of tears, silently asking for an explanation.

“Remember John? Of course you do. After all, you were the one that killed him”, he spat, his voice poisonous.

“We were best friends since childhood. He was there for me for everything. He was like a brother to me; no, he was my brother. I had gotten into this university for my Master’s. I had to leave everything that mattered to me behind. And guess what I come home to after my graduation? My best friend’s death! His family was devastated. From them, I came to know that it was a woman who killed him, but nobody knew why or what had transpired that night. I had promised his mom that I would find the person responsible for his death and give her to them. And… yeah, here we are…” he says, his voice nonchalant.

Her face drains colour as she realizes what was going on. Betrayal. She could not focus on anything, all she could feel was the pain; physical and mental. She had given herself to him, just for him to betray her in the worst possible way. And to think that he considered her the murderer of his best friend hurt her even more, if that was even possible.

“What! No no no…Please listen to me, H”, she whimpers through her pain. She had to tell him the truth, he had the right to know what had happened.

“Thank you for your help, Harry, we’ll take this from here”, says the man, dragging her away.

“Noooo…You have to listen to me…Please”, she hiccups, “I did not kill him…please”

Harry looks at her one last time, his face devoid of any emotion, but his eyes gathering moisture.

“Please believe me… I love you so much, please… I did not kill him… it was an accident, i didn’t…” she pleads.

The dress she wore for him had turned a darker shade, drenched in her blood. Her purse lands onto the ground and the paper slips out from it, the blood running down her hand soaking it.

With a final glance at her, he turns around and walks into the darkness, a stray tear running down his face.

-----------------------------------

Jjdjdkdlsl what did y'all think? We wrote it in like 2 hours lol, so it might feel rushed. Feedback is appreciated 😊❤️

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[blackjackkent]

OK, I feel like we might as well bring Astarion to talk with Araj before we move on anywhere else in Moonrise Towers, so back to camp we go!

We don't actually have the option to tell him where we're bringing him and why before doing it, so we'll just dive right in.

Hey, Araj, I brought you Astarion like you wan--

"I never thought I'd see one in real life... I read about your kind for so many years, but you are a finer specimen than any bestiary could describe."

Hm.

So given how flustered she was before, I was like 95% certain that they already knew each other, but the 5% has it; she's looking at him like a piece of (scholarly) meat.

Astarion, to his credit, did not immediately punch her, but just cocked his head to one side and gave the most frankly bemused expression I've ever seen from him.

This was a truly glorious bit of expressive mocap; he looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh, be angry, or have her committed.

"You're really a vampire? At least one of their spawn..."

Astarion does a creditable impression of a carefree laugh, clearly wondering why the hell Hector brought him to this conversation. "Don't worry," he says brightly. "We're all friends under the Absolute."

His head drops and his eyes narrow slightly, his smile turning brittle. "I won't bite."

Araj smiles coolly. "Oh, I'd prefer if you did."

Her eyes flick to Hector. "And he's yours to command. My envy is palpable."

The image compression doesn't really help much here but both of them are making 100% apropos faces in response to this. Hector is baffled and Astarion thinks the idea of being Hector's to command is the funniest fucking thing in the universe.

"Excuse me?" Hector says firmly. "He's his own person." Whatever Araj might have in mind, he is not going to be party to anything that puts Astarion back under anyone's yoke.

Araj smiles disdainfully. "I'm sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable."

She turns back to Astarion briskly. "Do you have a name, spawn?"

He blinks at her. "Astarion. But hold on--"

"Good," she cuts him off. "Now, Astarion..." Her head tips back slightly and her lips part, and she looks him over with a gaze that can only be called lascivious. "I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire sinc eI was a very young girl."

Hector and Astarion both stare at her. "I'm sorry? You *want* to be bitten?" Astarion asks. Hector glances sideways, expecting to see him with that wide, cocky, hungry grin - but to his surprise, the elf looks thoroughly uncomfortable.

Araj's smile widens, a touch of madness, of obsession in it now. "To feel your life's blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death? Yes...I want it..."

Hector is struck by a sudden, visceral memory of that early night in camp, long before Karlach ever touched him - the heady weight of Astarion's body pressing into his and the sharp icepick incision of teeth into his neck. The descent into dizzy, drifty euphoria as the blood flowed out of him. A bewildering sensation - not one he would seek a second time, though...

Araj seems to recognize that she is not getting the snappy response that she wanted. "I'll even compensate you," she goes on hastily, looking towards Hector, not Astarion, as she says so. "A potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me."

Astarion lets out a nervous giggle. "I will have to decline," he says before Hector can say anything. He's still smiling brightly but the facade is cracking. There's fear under the denial.

Araj's eyes flash angrily. "Excuse me? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it."

"I GAVE you my answer!" Astarion snaps, taking a step back; the mask has cracked completely now and his expression has gone tight with fear and anger, a look Hector has never seen there before.

The strangeness of this moment, while not lost on the party, is very lost on Araj, who simply rolls her eyes and looks towards Hector with irritation. "Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?" she demands.

Hector hesitates. The potion sounds nice, of course, but it is a complete non-issue to him if Astarion doesn't want to bite this woman; he's certainly not going to force it. But he's confused. He's never seen Astarion in this state before. "I am surprised, Astarion," he says mildly. "I thought you'd jump at a chance like this."

His confusion is sincere - but Astarion clearly doesn't read it that way. His eyes narrow coldly and he looks from Hector to Araj and laughs humorlessly.

"I'm sorry, but -- would you excuse us for a moment?"

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Hector by the collar and drags him several feet away.

"Are you seriously asking me to do this?" he hisses furiously. "Trading me for some potion?"

Hector opens his mouth to say that no, of course he wasn't trying to trade Astarion for anything, that he was just surprised, but the elf is still talking.

"Because there's *something wrong with her blood.*" He draws back, wrinkles his nose. "I can smell it from here. It's *rank*."

Hector tilts his head quizzically. "What do you mean? What's wrong with her blood?"

"I can't say," Astarion snaps. "It just smells wrong. Unnatural. Drinking it wouldn't kill me, but it would *not* be pleasant."

His lips curl and his shoulders square, and Hector realizes very abruptly that he is fully ready to fight rather than be forced into this decision. And the reason for that is, when he thinks about it, obvious.

This isn't about food. This is about power. This woman doesn't want to feed him, or even trade with him - she wants to use him.

And Astarion has had 200 years of being used, and even now he is willing to believe that Hector wants to use him just the same.

A flash of grief and compasson goes through him that is almost painful in intensity. I thought I had earned more of your trust than that. But then again...I have centuries of your history to stand against.

"I don't have all day, True Soul," Araj puts in impatiently.

Astarion is looking at him like a frightened horse ready to bolt. Hector shakes his head once slightly. "Don't do anything you don't want to," he tells the other man gently, and then is silent.

Astarion stares at him for a long moment. "...All right," he says, and his tone is remarkably devoid of anything sarcastic or harsh. He sounds stunned. The tension goes out of his shoulders, and then he smiles. "Thank you."

He turns back to Araj, and his bearing has straightened a little, more confident and direct; without realizing it, he had slipped into a slump-shouldered posture as he expected Hector to deliver him over, but he has command of himself once again now.

"It's still a no, I'm afraid," he says firmly.

"How very disappointing," Araj sneers.

Astarion turns and walks away without a backward glance, and the rest of the group trails behind him down the corridor. It's only when they are out of earshot that he stops, and looks at Hector with wide eyes, and after a moment's hesitation puts a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Thank you," he says softly. "I appreciated that."

[werezmastarbucks]

7. Be nice to the timeline and see what happens

part 7 out of 8

warnings: multiple deaths

word count: 1353

You heard the door open and stood up lazily from your computer. Stretched your back, waited until the light came back to your eyes, and left the room to say hi.

Instead of one Barry Allen, there were two. A grand deal, no doubt, but it was highly unlikely to happen on a random Wednesday.

They were absolutely identical. As in, the same head movement when they saw you. They moved, synchronized, through the corridor, pushing each other, towards you, and you got a little scared. Two Flashes, one in his new, and one, in his old costume, running at you with a demonic sparkle or urgency in their eyes. You found yourself with your back against the wall, nowhere to run, and two Barrys charging at you, even at the normal human speed, very emposing.

"Wait, wait, what-"

They both almost fell on you, grabbing you with their four hands, choking in the hug.

"I don't get it! I don't! Why are there two of you?"

It was most curious, of course. They both took off their masks in the same nimble move, releasing their pitch black hair. For a second there they both gave you the look that made you think about both of them, simultaneously. It was bizarre.

_____________________________________________________

"Okay, okay, what do we do", yesterday Barry pressed his hand on the kitchen door. The tomorrow Barry was measuring kitchen with his steps.

"You stay with her- no, I stay with her", he shrugged, seeing the look the other Barry was giving him.

"You should go, because you know this Justice League, they're your team", he explained. The yesterday Barry took to his knees, thinking. He sat on the floor with his back to the door.

"I can't lose her, dude", he said, helpless.

"We're not letting her die. I'll stay with her and keep an eye on her. We can't lose Superman either".

He wondered, what the fuck he was doing, as if changing the fate of Superman in this universe would somehow affect his own. No, no, and what if he can't even come back home? The thought was so heavy on the head that he grabbed the kitchen table for support. What if, no matter how fast he runs, he can't come back home, to his own Y/N? And he fails to save Superman, too? And Batman, Diana and the others, they're just waiting for him there, on the dying planet, hoping for help?

"Hey", the other Barry snapped his fingers, "are you listening?"

"No", he said, honestly, "you go. Again, warn them. And do everything the same way, like we did yesterday. We know now that the armour is almost inpenetrable, but their necks are actually exposed. Tell them to go for the ship first, find the source of the fuel. And I'll be here. It was an accident, right".

The other Barry, his face pale like water, nodded nervously.

"Yeah. It's an accident".

He got himself up and offered him his hand.

"Keep her safe. We'll do it, and I promise, we'll find a way to get you back home".

_______________________________________________________

In the evening he took her out of the house, checking the apartment for the important stuff, like documents, her laptop, her favorite drinking bottle, credit cards.

He only spent about a day in this timeline, and it already felt like a mess in his head, with the additional time travel and all. He only explained what he could, leaving out the part where they both come home in the morning to the ruins of the house she was in. The horror, the cold chokehold he felt on his throat, was not a necessary addition to the story. He held her hand all through the walk as they moved in the other direction, strolling through the streets wherever she felt like going; as they got hungry, they got a pizza, and Barry could barely eat, constantly looking at the watch.

Nine PM, ten, eleven, two more hours, waiting for the yesterday Barry's text message, and they're in the clear. Even if they return to the collapsed building, the most precious will be safe. It struck him, as well, that he didn't think to evacuate other people, but the powerful gut feeling told him that if he had done it, the tragedy would follow.

Shortly after midnight, Y/N got tired, and gave him a sleepy smile, as they sat outside the coffeshop. The people had no idea an alien ship had already landed in Slovakia; that the invasion has begun, and would end very, very quickly, with literally one blow in a special hidden place in the body of their biggest ship.

The night drew over the city, and there were no stars. Barry thought, why was he being so paranoid? There is no such thing as fate. He had created fate a day ago, in fact. He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the head, which felt like the first time. He wondered how this Barry managed to make her fall in love with him. Must have had something he didn't have. Then his mind wandered back home, where he was supposed to be now. His knee started jumping.

"I need more coffee", he said.

"Why? At night? You need less coffee. Let's go home already, Barry, I'm dozing off".

He looked at the watch.

"Yeah, we could grab a coffee now and move on, I think".

Thirty minutes left.

"Do you want some?"

"Pfft, no", she looked at him strictly, "you shouldn't drink it either. You won't sleep".

Barry dismissed her with a nod of a head and left her on the bench. Just for a minute, or even less. It's been just moment, and it was so treacherously quiet. As he entered again the well-smelling space of the coffeeshop, and stood in line, he dropped a look at you, sitting outside. Then he looked at the menu, and the next second, out of nowhere, there was a loud crush. The glass exploded, sending thousands of small shreds into the coffeeshop. He moved with speed, but it was useless. The piece of edging had already started flying as he was entering the shop. It was just so quiet. He slowed down, drifting on the asphalt, a silent scream never leaving his mouth. He saw her feet, sitting in place, and the crimson splash on the ground that almost made him vomit. Several minutes later he got the text message from Barry,

"Yeha, we're done. Superman is alive. Is she okay?"

_________________________________________________________

"I'll stay". "No, I'll stay", he snarled, "You'd already stayed with her, and what happened?"

"What if we take her with us?"

"You crazy? To the mission? There one hundred more chances to get killed".

They tried to send Cyborg to guard her, and he fucked up, too. Without the speed of the Flash, he couldn't be on time when the drunk driver crashed through the bus stop, taking everybody, including her, with him.

They tried taking her with them and, unsurprisingly, the very first rogue piece of metal sliced her throat,

They tried to give the instructions to the League and both stay with her, and she managed to have a heart attack: a healthy, young girl, died on the spot upon seeing two Barry Allens instead of two.

They tried to lock her up in the Batcave, in the room where there was nothing but clean smooth walls, just for twenty minutes, and the fire broke out on the first floor, producing poisonous smoke that choked her.

No matter what they did, as the Comers were being defeated, Y/N died in some horrible way. If every time Barrys went back in time they duplicated like he did before, there would be now at least forty Barrys.

He was getting desperate. They were getting crazy with frustration, moving like two screws in the burning ball of molecule horizon.

Nothing worked. Until Barry, our Barry, the Barry who travelled from tomorrow, realized, that it's not the end of the world that kills her. It's the Superman salvation.

[practically-an-x-man]

I'm here to send writing help. You didn't list any specific prompts so I'm going to wing it. Robin and her having a beach day? Idk I hate the cold and I want the opposite of that.

This... ended up being a little more than a snippet, but I like how it came out! Thanks for the prompt, this was fun!

____

"You know the water's only supposed to be like 60 degrees today, right?" Robin asked, glancing at the speedster in the passenger seat. He was practically vibrating with excitement, to the point that she could feel him bouncing in the seat. "I told you we should have waited until the afternoon. The sun's barely up - it's gonna be freezing out there."

"Nah, it won't," Peter replied, "It'll be fine."

Ask anyone else at the mansion - anyone else on Earth, really - and they'd tell you that going swimming at 9AM in the middle of early May was a recipe for disaster. But Peter was... how did she put this nicely... well, he went to the beat of his own drum. And besides, she was almost looking forward to the inevitable Fuck-It's-Cold dance the moment he stepped foot in the water. It would bring a little entertainment to her morning.

"If you say so." she said with a shrug, tilting her head as she glanced back at the road. Truth be told, this part of the day was pretty nice: it was warm enough but pleasantly breezy, enough to have the windows rolled down as she drove down the highway. And warm enough to build a few sand castles and play a round or two of beach volleyball, once Peter finally decided the water was, in fact, too cold to be swimming in. Truthfully, it was a day more suited to a walk around the park or a wander through the city, but she could make this work just as well.

There were more people at the beach than she expected, truthfully (though she still had absolutely no trouble finding a parking spot). Robin figured that this was the sort of weather that definitely wasn't yet summer, but just warm enough that people were willing to pretend it was anyway. Still, the fact that there was nobody else in the water should've been a warning sign.

Well, a warning sign to everyone but Peter. To give him a bit of credit, he did help her pitch a little campsite there on the sand, but he still wasted no time before he was running down to the shoreline. Well, she couldn't say she didn't warn him.

It only took a moment. Perks of the superspeed, she figured. One instant he was jogging down to shore, the next he was standing right beside her, teeth chattering.

"Okay, yeah, it's pretty cold."

"I told you." Robin replied, trying and failing to bite down her laughter. But to her surprise, Peter was grinning. He tilted his head towards the water, his damp silver hair flicking chilly droplets against her face.

"C'mon, you should try it."

"You're kidding me." Robin deadpanned, eyeing the water with a note of distaste. She hated the cold. It wasn't so bad for a guy like Peter, whose mutation kept him warm most of the time anyway, but she did not in fact have that perk. The only time people sang to warm themselves up was when they were trapped under an avalanche and slowly freezing to death. Or so she heard.

"No, c'mon, it's fun," Peter insisted, already taking a few more steps down the slope of the beach, "It's like the Polar Plunge."

"I don't know where you're getting 'fun' from 'polar' and 'plunge', babe. That sounds like some kind of Scandinavian torture method."

"Well, if we even get kidnapped by a couple of Norwegian mutants, we can say we're prepared," he fired back, holding out a hand to her, "C'mon, seriously, it's just for a second. I promise it's fun."

Those puppy-dog eyes were going to be the death of her.

"Alright..." Robin agreed, taking his hand and letting him pull her down to the edge of the water.

"On three." Peter decided, bouncing on his toes, "Three, two... one!"

Before she could protest, he dragged the both of them into the water. Robin yelped at the shock of cold-

And a moment later, she was back up to the shore, and Peter pulled his hand back from her waist.

"See, that wasn't so bad! It is kinda fun, right?" he asked, a fresh grin on his face. Robin tilted her head at him. She had to admit, there was a bit of thrill to it... but next time, she'd stick to a beach trip in June.

[awkwarddesertfox]

I had already been considering retirement before I met Sam. My work as a villain had become boring and trite - commit crime, be "surprised" by a hero, monologue, be interrupted, fight, destroy some public property, be "caught", break out, rinse and repeat. But meeting Sam, getting to know them? That just cemented my decision.

The world thinks that Wraith was destroyed in her last battle with Tempest. To be fair, I probably would have been if it weren't for the crack in that manhole cover. I hid just in time, and now I get to enjoy my retirement from villainy. And I'm married to the love of my life, pretending I don't know they're a hero. Granted. They're not the strongest, or most powerful. But Sam - Nightingale - is one of the best support heroes the world has ever seen, but can still hold their own when needed.

I live a peaceful-ish life now, my old uniform hidden in the shadows, my shadows, in the attic. Sam keeps one of theirs under our bed, one with our spare tire, and I assume one at the Hero HQ. But even before I found their uniforms, I had figured out who they were. I saw the way they had placed their hand on our waitress' arm on our first date and how her limp was gone when she left our table. I saw the way they brushed their fingers against the cop who gave us a hard time when we reported our neighbour for beating his girlfriend and how he sagged almost immediately after.

It's hard not to recognize Nightingale's powers. Especially when you've been on the receiving end of them more than once.

I let them believe they're being sneaky when they switch out their uniforms, or press a healing hand I to the crook of my elbow when we're watching our shows, or pull a fair amount of strength out of Dave whenever they bump into him in the street.

Sam is good, and kind, and a shining beacon of everything that is right in this world. So when I turned on the news when I got home from work on our anniversary, only to see that Bloodsport had attacked downtown, and had Nightingale - Sam - bleeding out, with ropes of their own blood wrapping around them? Well, it's safe to say that I saw red. Well, black.

I called my shadows to me, felt them dragging my old uniform onto me as they wrapped around me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and cursed the lack of time to fetch my mask from where is was likely kept now in the Hero HQ trophy room. I chose to pull my hood further down, and used my shadows to obscure the top part of my face, before picking a nice, shadowy alley close to the fight and stepping through my shadows to get there.

Sam was the first to notice me as I arrived. It hurt a little to see their eyes widen in panic at the sight of me, but I could understand. Wraith, one of the most powerful villains this world had ever known, had apparently returned from the dead and shown up in the middle of a fight when the Hero was already outmatched. It doesn't take an evil genius to figure out what they thought was going to happen.

I stepped out of the alley, and heard everything around me go quiet. I could feel the tension in the air as I raised my head to look directly at Bloodsport. I watched as her face contorted from cockiness, to confusion, to horror, to rage.

"You shadowy bitch! You think you can disappear for a year, then show up to take credit for my work?! You really-"

"Year and a half." I interrupted her calmly, watching her falter when I don't match her anger immediately. I let her stammer for a beat before continuing, "I've been enjoying my retirement for the past year and a half. And here you are, messing that up for me."

I watched her for her reaction, waiting to see her silver threads start moving towards me to envelop myself in shadows again, smirking behind my lower mask when I heard the threads whistle through the air as they only sliced through shadows. I stepped further onto the battle field, curling my shadows around me so her hits can't land as I made my way over to where Nightingale was squirming their way out of their bloody bonds. As I got closer, I extended my shadows so they started to wrap around Nightingale without touching them to try to keep them calm.

I heard Bloodsport let out an infuriated shriek, so forced my shadows up as I grabbed Nightingale. I felt them tense under my grip. "Darling," I kept my voice low enough for them to hear me so we wouldn't be overheard, "this is why we shouldn't work on our anniversary. I'm taking you home, then I'm coming back to finish this. Take what you need to get back on you feet and we'll talk about all of this when I'm back, okay?"

I watched the realization wash over their face as they froze, before they hissed "Marie? You're the Wraith?! I'm married to the Wraith?"

"We'll talk later, Sam. Right now I need to get you out of here and away from Bloodsport."

"Right, yeah, okay." They said as they twisted their fingers between mine. I shuddered as I felt some of my strength drain as Sam's injuries started to knit back together. I pulled them to their feet, and pulled to step back with me through the shadows into our living room. I watched them blink as their eyes took in the sudden change in our surroundings.

I pressed my forehead to theirs before stepping back through the shadows. I looked up at Bloodsport and grinned behind my mask. I watched her flinch when she felt shadowy tendrils starts to brush and prod against her before her arms snapped out to the sides and her head snapped back. She stumbled back to try to keep upright, her left foot stepping into a shadow. I flicked a hand and she screamed as her leg was shattered.

"I may be retired, Bloodsport, but I'm still far out of your league. The choice is yours: stand down, or pray to whatever god you believe in that I don't kill you today."

"Fuck. You." She choked out what would probably be her last words.

I shrugged. "That's your choice," I said as I raised the walls of shadows around us, "Time to learn why most humans are afraid of the dark."

***

I got home shortly after finishing up with Bloodsport to find Tempest, Starlight and Mimic waiting at our table while Sam puttered around the kitchen humming under their breath. I pulled my hood down and my mask off and watched my in-laws flinch as I walked past them in my uniform to hug my spouse and bury my face in their neck.

Sam patted my cheek and I felt my body relax as the strained muscles exhaustion just wash away. I pressed a kiss to their cheek and turned to start making tea for the five of us so I had something to do while my father-in-law questioned me about why I never went back to the industry after our last fight.

Somehow, this was almost worse than when I was cross-questioned when Sam and I started dating.

You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse.

[gaily-daily-musings]

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss ask part 2

(link to fluffy version)

-

He knows it was stupid. He already knows. He doesn't need anyone else to tell him that. He knew it was stupid before he went to the Opress brothers and asked for a job. He knew it was stupid when he agreed to rob a bank. He knew it was stupid as he pulled on the black ski mask. He knew, but that didn't change anything.

You can do this, Anakin thinks. For her. Get the money. Get out. Pay for the cancer treatment. And then this nightmare can be over.

Maul and Savage are just as vicious as their reputation says they are. They run in guns blazing screaming at everyone to get down. Anakin stamps down any emotions threatening to break and grabs the bag. He aims his gun at the nearest teller. She's crying, mascara running down her face as she tries to shove money into the bag as fast as she can.

Anakin doesn’t pay attention to what Maul and Savage are doing across the room. He just focuses on what's in front of him. Get in. Get out. Save her.

Sirens blare on the horizon. Anakin stops. Oh shit. He turns to look at Maul. The man is raging, hissing angrily. Maul whips his gun on the bank manager.

“Looks like someone called the cops,” he growls.

The manager blubbers, pleading for his life. Anakin runs, stepping in between Maul and the thin man.

“No! This isn't part of the plan!”

Maul snarls. “The plan was to be in and out before the cops were even alerted! We're already fucked!”

His hateful eyes turn and scan the cowering crowd of people. One of them is sitting up straight staring back. His gaze is hard and unafraid. Maul smiles.

“You'll do.” He grabs the man and hauls him up to his feet. “Brother!”

Savage hurries over to subdue him. The man struggles but Savage is bigger and easily hauls him back.

“What are you doing?!”

“Taking a hostage, what does it look like we're doing?” Maul snaps. “The cops are less likely to shoot and kill all of us with a hostage in the car!”

Anakin grits his teeth. Fuck! Fuck this was a shitshow!

To his credit, the man puts up a good fight. But Savage and Maul get him under control and tie his hands behind his back with some zip ties. Just as they're throwing the money bags into the van, the first police car rounds the corner.

“Drive!” Maul yells.

Anakin doesn't have to be told twice. He climbs into the driver's seat and slams down the gas pedal. He barrels down the street weaving in and out of traffic. From the back he hears the cries of the poor man.

“Give that back!” A British accent snaps authoritatively. It is the voice of a man who is used to being listened to.

Anakin’s eyes flicker up to the rearview mirror. Maul is sliding a ring off the man's finger and holding it up.

“Finders keepers,” he sneers.

The man tries to headbutt him. Savage growls and shoves him back. He then raises a threatening fist meaning to punch him.

Anakin yanks the wheel. They all go flying.

“Watch where you're fucking going!”

“I didn't sign up to hurt anyone!” Anakin yells back. “He's already tied up, you don't need to beat him too!”

In the next second a gun presses against the back of his head. Anakin stills.

“You get me and my brother to safely or I'll kill you and your fucking mother.”

Anakin steps on it. He doesn't try anything again.

-

They make it. Somehow they make it. It was close for a minute there, but Anakin

found a way through.

He parks under a bridge where they can switch cars. Maul and Savage have taken their half of the money and loaded it up into the other car. They talk in hushed voices off to the side. Anakin already knows they're thinking about killing the hostage.

“You got what you wanted. Just go.” Anakin gestures behind him. “I'll take care of him, don't worry about it.”

Maul sneers. “Can you? Have you ever even taken a life before?”

“I told you at the start of this I would do what it takes. You know what's at stake for me. I'll do it.”

Maul looks him up and down. Anakin stands his ground staring right back. Finally, Maul snorts and turns away.

“Have it your way.”

Anakin doesn't breathe a sigh of relief until their car has disappeared around a corner. He turns back to the man sitting on the ground. The side of his head was bleeding and the zip ties were no doubt cutting into his wrists. At some point Savage had gagged him. It couldn't be very easy to breathe with that thing.

Anakin crouches down in front of him. The man glares back furiously. Anakin winces under his gaze. “I know I have no right to say this but I really am sorry.”

He reaches up to take the gag off. Without knowing why, without understanding what possesses him to do so, Anakin's hand veers at the last second. Of its own accord he gently wipes away some of the blood on the side of the man's head. The man blinks back at him, a single brow lifted in blank confusion.

Anakin flinches. What the fuck was his problem? He quickly moves to take the gag off, sliding it down the man's mouth. Before the man can yell at him or curse him or demand to be set free, Anakin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny, golden ring. The man's eyes widen.

“Mau–uh, the guy I was with is pretty easy to pickpocket,” Anakin says awkwardly.

The man looks back up at him. Really, honestly looks. Like he's seeing into the depth of his soul and judging what he finds there. Anakin shivers. His eyes are so, so blue. Anakin thinks he will remember them forever.

[its-vannah]

Illicit Affairs | Part Two | Bill Weasley x Reader

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, I was on vacation for most of July and didn't have the chance to post. A lot of you have requested that I write a second part to Illicit Affairs, and I want to make y'all happy—so here it is! ❤️❤️❤️

Song: Illicit Affairs

Part One

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, break up, verbal fighting, kissing

Taglist: @pandoraneverland @inpraizeof

Bill lay in bed at the Burrow, staring at the ceiling above him, tossing and catching an old, beat up Quaffle. The only sound that could be heard was the leather making contact with the palms of his hands.

All he could thing about was you. And Fleur. He thought about the way he longed to run his fingers through your h/c hair. He thought about pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently whenever and wherever he liked. He longed to tell you how much he loved you—and he longed to hear you say them back. And then he thought about Fleur. He thought about all the "I love you's" they had shared, all the times his fingers got caught in her bright blonde hair, all the times he kissed her. But she still wasn't you.

And that's why he had to tell her.

Tossing up the Quaffle one last time, he caught it gently in his hands, giving it a small squeeze before setting it on his nightstand. Heaving himself out of bed, he ran a hand through his tangled hair and headed towards his door, opening and closing it gently so he didn't disturb anyone.

Then he did the unexpected: he made his way to the twins room. Slowly, one foot at a time, he walked up the crooked, cracked stairs to their room, knocking three times before pushing the door open.

The light in a wand went out, and violent "Shushes" echoed the room, two figures scrambling into opposite beds.

Bill raised a brow, flipping on a light switch with an amused look on his face as he looked at his brothers.

"Care to explain why you're in our room, Billy?" George asked.

He rolled his eyes, one arm on the doorframe, "Care to explain why you're hiding?"

"Touche, Billy, touche." Fred sighed, pulling his quilt away from his face and turning to face his older brother, "Shut the door."

Entering the room, Bill was careful of where he stepped. He didn't know if or when he'd set something off, so he opted to lean against the door, "I had something to ask the two of you—but it seems like I'm interrupting something."

"No, no, just the usual 3:00 witching hour, innit, George?" Fred chuckled, his hands slapping his thighs, "So what'll it be, old Billy boy?"

"An electric shock shake? George asked.

"Or how about a sticky trainers?"

"A strapping young man like you may need a peace disturber, right? Or perhaps a—"

"Oh shut it, I'm not here for one of your inventions," Bill snapped, "I made a decision."

George tilt his head, "About what?"

"About—"About what?" You two have been nagging me for days to decide!" Bill hissed, "And now you don't even remember?"

But he merely waved him off, "Learn to take a joke, Billy boy. Y/N and Fleur. So, what'll it be, a nice tall cup of blonde and Veela or the one you're in love with?"

Bill chose to ignore his comment, and instead answered his question, "I'm ending things with Fleur tomorrow night. I'm telling her everything."

Fred's eyes widened, "Everything? Even that you two... rode the old broom?"

"Rode the old—Fred! We didn't—we haven't—we've only kissed twice in the whole time we've known each other. And only one of those was when Fleur and I were together. I know I'm a horrible boyfriend, but give me some credit."

George's hands went up, "Alright, alright. Our apologies. So, tell us, how are you going to break the news."

"We're having dinner in at her place. Just ordering some muggle food to share. It'll be a private dinner, so I'm going to break the news to her then. She's going on holiday with her family for a few weeks after that, so we wouldn't have seen each other anyway. I'm hoping it'll distract her."

"Well, she's a very beautiful witch, so she'll have plenty to distract her," Fred sighed, "So, what are you going to tell Y/N?"

Bill nodded, "I'm going to tell her that I ended things with Fleur. And I'm also going to tell her that I'm going to take some time to myself for a bit. I don't want to go from one relationship to another too fast. Out of respect for Fleur, Y/N, and myself."

George put a hand on his heart, "What a gentleman."

"And then I'll ask her to go on a date with me. And we'll see how it goes."

"We'll see," Fred nodded.

"Or hear," George smirked.

______________________________________________________________

Bill knocked on Fleur's door at half past seven, forcing a smile onto his face as she pulled him in for a quick kiss, ushering him into her kitchen where boxes of take out food were sitting on the counter.

After sitting down across from Fleur at her little breakfast nook, he cleared his throat as they began eating.

"Fleur, there's something I've been meaning to tell you." Bill said, a look of pain on his face.

She placed a hand over his, an uneasy smile on her face, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right, Bill?"

He nods, "This isn't going to be easy to hear, but it's something you need to know."

Fleur inhales, preparing herself, "Okay."

"I'm breaking up with you."

A look of surprise sets into her face and she removes her hand, "Oh."

"But that's not all."

"Oh?"

"A few months ago, I kissed another woman. And I'm sorry. I thought that if I just pretended like it didn't happen, then we wouldn't have a problem. But it only made things worse because it means I wasn't honest with you. I regret it."

She began to put the pieces together, "You regret kissing her while you were with me, but you don't regret kissing her."

He looks down at his paper plate, ashamed of himself, "Yes."

"I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not mad or upset, because I am. But I'm glad that you told me and didn't lead me on. That would've been worse. Thank you for having enough respect for me to say it to my face."

Bill nods, "You deserve better."

She nods, "I do."

______________________________________________________________

Bill arrived home that night completely exhausted. As he opened the door to his room, he wasn't surprised to find the twins already sitting on his bed, ready to talk.

"How'd it go?" Fred asked, tapping his foot excitedly.

But Bill merely slumped on his bed between them, "She took it well. Better than I would have taken it if the roles were reversed. Doesn't make me feel any less like a piece of shit."

George nodded, "Then that means you did the right thing."

Fred rubbed his brother's back, "So it's over?"

"It's over." Bill sighed.

"Well, you know what they say..."

"What?"

"Every ending has a new beginning."

And that new beginning was you.

______________________________________________________________

It had been three weeks and three days since Bill Weasley had come knocking on your door, letting you know that he broke things off with Fleur and that he was in love with you. He told you that he needed time to process things, but that when he was ready, and you were ready, he'd like to take you on a date.

So when you got the owl all those days later asking if you were free the next night, you had to sit down and remind yourself to breathe. Finally, after ten years of being madly in love with Bill, the two of you were getting your chance.

The night of your date, you had done everything to near perfection. You had showered, fixed your hair, done your makeup, gotten dressed, doused yourself with perfume, and put on your shoes.

Before Bill could even knock on the door, it swung open. A smile was plastered on the both of your faces. You hardly processed that he was putting a dozen peach roses into your hands, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You could only think about how long you had waited for this moment. And how good things were worth waiting for.

______________________________________________________________

Epilogue

It had been five years since your first official date with Bill, and since then, your relationship had remained steady. Yes, you had your ups and downs with one another, but your love never wavered.

The two of you were married in August of 1997 in a small ceremony at the Burrow. And even though though the night didn't end as expected, you wouldn't have traded it for the world. Because it meant the two of you would always be together, no matter what.

From that night on, the world around the two of you began to crumble.

Fred died, and the two of you were heartbroken. But you picked the other back up and relied on one another for support.

Even though you both lost people you loved during the war, things seemed to turn a new page after that.

You found out you were pregnant about a year after the war ended, and you had a little girl with hair like her father's, eyes like yours, and a mind of her own. You named her Hope, because like those around you, the two of you had hope for the future. For each other and everything life had to offer.

And then, the night after you and Bill renewed your wedding vows, you found out that you were pregnant again. Your second child, a girl, was born nearly two years after her sister. And you named her after a witch who had a lasting impact over you: Tonks. Well, Nymphadora, because you and Bill couldn't stop laughing about how much she hated her name and how much she would have loved it for your child.

And now, sitting on a rocking chair outside of Shell Cottage, you rested your hand on your bump while Bill read a book to your daughters. The two of you were expecting a boy in another six months and you already knew that he would complete your little family.

Bill looked up from the book, his eyes meeting yours. A large grin spread over his face, and you returned the smile as his focus returned to the book. But his smile never wavered, and neither did your love.

Because that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance.