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hannieehaee · 2 days

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Svt ot13 having to break up with their s/o for the sake of the group and their public image?

having to break up bc of their career (but not really)

content: established relationship, potential break up, public scrutiny, angst (no sad ending though ofc), etc.

wc: 804

a/n: i switched this up a bit to how they'd react to controversy about your relationship since i hate writing unresolved angst or angst with sad endings oops sorry </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

im sawrryyy his ass is far too stubborn to break up a relationship just bc his label wants him to. he also would not care what the tabloids are saying. he'd maybe consider it if it was affecting you, but ultimately he'd rather go on hiatus or just put up with the scrutiny rather than actually break up.

jeonghan -

he'd never admit to a relationship publicly no matter how damning the evidence was. would just completely ignore the subject and throw subtle lies about it. wouldnt even have to consider breaking up with you bc he wouldnt even acknowledge any backlash from your relationship at all lol.

joshua -

kinda odd to write about him considering ... anyways i think he would do the same as hannie and just not acknowledge the damage a relationship would do to his public image. i mean. if he finally found someone who he feels strongly enough about to let into his messy life why would he ever consider ending it? he'd feel affected by it, though, knowing the scrutiny would also fall on you.

jun -

he might bring up the controversy very subtly during a live or maybe one day straight up make a statement about it but never actually let it go further than that. he seems super private with his family, so if your relationship were to begin causing public uproar he'd just tighten the reigns on his privacy a bit more.

soonyoung -

just annoyed and frustrated about it. would try and subtly scold the media (and carats a little bit) about it on one of his private weverse lives. if the situation got too intense, though, he'd just opt for hybe putting out some type of statement denying the relationship in order to protect you from public opinion as much as be could.

wonwoo -

he's so nice and understanding and never blames fans for anything (even though sometimes he 100% should *cough* the mobbings *cough*) so he wouldnt blame anyone for their emotions towards his relationship. would consult with you and give you an out if you felt like you couldnt handle the situation (even though it absolutely broke his heart to even consider breaking up) but when you denied him he'd simply opt for putting up with the negative press and just continue to love you as privately as he could.

jihoon -

only one who gives me the vibes that he might actually try and break up with you just bc he loves you too much to put you through all this unwarranted hate all bc of his public image. butttt would not survive the heartbreak he felt at breaking up with someone he clearly still loved and would run back into your arms within the month.

seokmin -

just complete emotional turmoil. he wouldnt wanna break up, but if you did, he'd do it just for you. he also wouldnt wanna deny your relationship bc he'd feel like that'd be disrespectful to you. anddd he also would not wanna confirm your relationship since that'd just add extra hate to you. he'd opt to do anything you chose, making you his main priority.

mingyu -

his ass would NAWWWTTT care if people thought badly of him being in a relationship. he'd keep it as private as he could, but would never even entertain the thought of breaking up when dispatch suddenly got a hold of your relationship and the situation blew up. very nonchalant about it all, feeling too confident in your love to think anything could ever drive the two of you apart.

minghao -

gives me the vibes that he might just opt for making the usual statement idols always make of 'x idol is seeing x idol with warm feelings' or whatever the fuck they usually write. other than that he would still keep the relationship very on the down low and never allow public opinion to affect his emotions towards you.

seungkwan -

would take a very logical and professional approach to it by immediately denying any relationship and claiming the two of you are friends lol. he's so friendly with everyone it'd be very believable. wouldn't have it in him to break up a personal relationship over his career thoughhhh he's just too full of love to do that.

vernon -

yet another member to just absolutely ignore anything going on and straight up not care for any public reaction about it. wanna send trucks? wanna write articles about him? he's not even gonna see them.

chan -

would feel insanelyyyy bad that he ever put you in the limelight in such a negative light. would also feel embarrassed and annoyed at the fact that merely being with you would become such a scandal. in the end, he'd also just opt to ignoring the situation and denying the relationship in order to preserve your peace.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt reactions #seventeen reaction

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stuniolo-simp4life · 3 days

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I hope they look like you- Matt Sturniolo

Description- Matt and y/n find out something shocking about their future.

Warnings- Crying and comforting, a little suggestive during a flashback. Another short and sweet.

Y/n’s morning wasn’t exactly a great start. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous and sick. Matt was peacefully sleeping beside her.

Suddenly, she had the urge to puke. She got up and ran to the bathroom, letting out whatever was making her feel this way.

A few seconds later, matt walked in, holding her hair like a ponytail and rubbing her back softly. “It’s okay pretty girl. Let it out.”

When she was done, she lifted her head softly, tears threatening to fall.

“You’re alright,” matt whispered to you. You grabbed your toothbrush and started brushing your teeth.

Usually you didn’t mind the taste of mint, but today it made you sick.

“Do you need anything?” matt asked. “I’m fine,” you snapped.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your mood had been swinging like crazy today. You got mad because the TV wasn’t working, but then you started crying because you couldn’t reach a plate from a cabinet.

Matt had been worried about you, but you kept saying you were fine.

“I don’t know why but I've been craving pickles with chocolate frosting recently,” you announced to no one in particular.

Chris gave you a weird look and nick just looked confused. “Y/n you don’t even like pickles,” nick said.

“I know, but i just want to eat them for some reason,” you said with a shrug.

You got up and went to the kitchen, hoping to find pickles in the fridge. Matt was sitting on the island table.

Randomly you started crying. Matt looked up at you and got up, surprised. “Baby what wrong? Why are you crying?”

“There’s no more pickles,” you sobbed. Matt hugged you, clearly confused. You didn’t even like them, and now you were crying over them?

“Y/n are you on your period?” You sniffed and pulled out your phone, checking your cycle tracker.

Your eyes widened. You had missed your period by a whole week.

“I think it’s late by a little.” Matt didn’t think much of it. It was probably just before period symptoms.

You did not think that. Your eyes widened as it finally clicked. Where you pregnant?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Matt and his brothers had gone out to film a Wednesday video, leaving you at home.

You decided to walk to the pharmacy that was near your house, picking up 3 pregnancy tests.

When you got back you were pretty nervous about taking the test. What if you were pregnant? What would matt say? Would he be mad? How did this even happen-

Wait. Your eyes widen as you remembered.

You were at an influencer party and passed tipsy. You went up to matt, smashing your lips on his.

“Matty I need you,” you slurred. Matt just chuckled and looked at you. “Baby you’re wayyy too drunk. And this isn’t even our house.”

“Pleaseee,” you whined. “It won’t be long I promise,” you whispered seductively into his ear. You felt him stiffen as you started kissing and sucking his neck.

He grabbed your arm and dragged you towards nick and chris, who were currently talking to some people.

“Hey y/n isn’t feeling that good. We are just gonna wait in the car until you guys are done.” Nick nodded. “we should be out in about an hour.”

Matt walked you to the car, pushing both of you into the back seat. “You look so pretty in this dress, but i think you’d look even better without it.”

He kissed you roughly, biting at your bottom lip. “Wait baby i don’t have protection with me.”

“It fine just don’t cum inside me.”

Well it’s safe to say that he didn’t remember.

Your breathing quickened as you slowly realized- you might be pregnant. Your hands shook as you opened the pregnancy test.

You nervously waited for the results, biting your nails. After a few minutes, you checked it. Positive.

You let out a shaky breath as feelings overwhelmed you. 2 left to go.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Your eyes filled with tears as you read all 3 results. You were too young to be a mother. Hell- you were only 20!

You sank to the floor and started crying. No no no no no. This can’t be happening. The bathroom door opened and matt walked inside.

“Hey baby- y/n? What’s wrong?” he sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“I-Im sorry matt. I swear this was never meant to happen i-” “What are you talking about?” he cut you off.

You pointed to the counter where the pregnancy tests sat. His eyes widened as he looked at them. “Im so sorry this wasn’t meant to happen.” you sobbed

He looked at you with a big grin on his face. “Im gonna be a dad!” he picked you up and hugged you, shocking you.

“Your not mad?” you asked. He looked at you. “Of course im not mad. Im so excited. You're going to be such a good mom.”

“You really think so?” you asked. He smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “I know so.”

You giggled. “I hope the baby looks like you,” you said and kissed him.

tags- l34n theyluvme-2315 tillies33ssss maya555sblog alorsxsturn blahbel668 @nyktoxs-lover strnilolo hearteyesformatt

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zerokaram · 2 days

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college basketball!abby x reader (pt.2)

ways to help palestine🇵🇸

synopsis: abby, your best friend since your childhood, has been giving you too many mixed signs. she’s being a little too affectionate, and dare you think—possessive as shit?

a/n: i got a lot of comments on the first part to make some more, soo i’m giving the people what they want rn, (while also indulging in my own fantasies about abby) so let me know if you guys want more parts :))

you were at the afterparty for her game, since her team had won by a landslide; 82 to 138, abby scoring more than 75% of all the points. It was safe to say that wearing her jersey clearly worked, because she broke her record by so much since the last game. But points or wins wasn’t what was on her mind, it was you. but for gods sake, you’ve been talking to one of her teammates for at least half of the party now. she couldn’t take this bullshit anymore, she wanted you to spend the night with her.

she got up from her bar seat and walked over to you, the steps of her feet thundering through the ground—others making way for her since she was well known around the school. you had suddenly become aware of her presence—as you always were when she was around. You muttered a, ‘m’ sorry, excuse me,’ to the girl you were talking to, before standing up and giving abby a warm hug.

you smiled and held her hands, “abby ‘re you kidding me? you did amazing earlier!” you said, giving her another hug. “such a good game, abs. you have no clue.” you yelled loudly through the music blasting inside the drunkard filled bar.

her jealousness suddenly vanished at the sight of your smile.

god..who was she to stay mad at you?

she gave a small grin and picked you up effortlessly, big, toned arms wrapping around your body. she chuckled, “maybe i’ll break my record next season if you wear my jersey again,” she says, keeping her arms around you, stationed at both sides of your thighs.

you were painfully aware of each groove and vein of the muscles on her arms, her chest pushing up against yours and your legs wrapped around her waist, unable to get down unless she were to let you. the way she would for a little bit, flutter her eyes as they dart down to your lips, sometimes even to your tits for a split second, before going back up again. you felt the way her body heat lingered onto yours, and for a while, her scent of pine would fill your senses, keeping you hooked onto her no matter how hard you tried to snap yourself out of it time and time again.

you two stared at each other blankly as she still continued to carry you in her arms, not even struggling one bit—seemingly lost in your eyes, you doing the same.

she did that thing again. where she would look at your lips, your eyes, your lips, then back up again, trying to make up her mind on which beautiful feature of yours she should look at.

snapping out of the dangers of the fantasies that forced themselves into her mind as she continued to hold you, she makes haste to gently but quickly prop you back onto the ground, clearing her throat awkwardly as if she didn’t just fall in love with you all over again.

those 15 seconds felt like 15 hours, in fact—she could practically feel her heart about to beat out of her chest.

on the other hand, the place you two were in right now was no place for a conversation, you couldn’t barely hear each other from the music, for christ’s sake.

taking her chance, she sneaks a hand around your waist, making contact with you again, pulling you in close. she leans down because of the height difference, making sure you can hear her. “let’s go somewhere more quiet.” she says, she doesn’t ask.

you shiver at her touch. you’ve only now become aware of it.

was she always this affectionate..?

you would expect from abby, and i’m talking stereotypical jock, player, ms. steal your girl abby, that she wouldn’t be shying away from a party right? wrong. if anything, abby was secretly the type to enjoy deep, personal, vulnerable conversations instead of those stuff. but only you knew that. only you really knew her like that. only you could make her laugh, or cry, or be sappy the way you made her do.

she quickly took you by your wrist and pulled you around the bar, laughing with you as you two tried to figure a way out of the crowded heap, finally finding the door to the outside.

It was dark, and it was probably about 2 am in the morning, but she couldn’t care less right now.

you two made your way to her car, locking the doors and taking a few breaths from all the running.

“fuckin’ finally…get to spend some time with you.” she says, seeming a little too relieved. but it was true, the only reason she even went to the party was because you were gonna be there.

you roll your eyes and say, “do you miss me that much?” you ask.

“bet you’d be willing to spend your whole life with me if you could.” you say, recklessly, as it slips out of your mouth like water.

“yeah? what if i do?”

abby really was shit at hiding it since then. she was shit at hiding the way she would snicker, huff, or even roll her eyes when she saw a guy or a girl hitting on you. who the fuck were they to be trying you? didn’t they know about the rumors? obviously not if they still tried in the first place. but holy shit, did she wish they would back off. you were hers. you two have been best friends for years.

as she sees you picking up some books in the library—probably some volunteer work, she becomes aware of the slow rising anger fueling through her body as she watches this one girl you’ve been talking to for weeks touch and grope at your shoulder.

who the fuck was she to be touching you?

walking over to you angrily, she tries to genuinely compose herself and to not take that girl by her hair and push her the fuck away from you.

It’s not like she was jealous or anything, but she just didn’t like the people that were interested in you. They all wanted the same thing. Just sex, sex, sex. she didn’t want that for you. she wanted the best for you. and clearly, the way that girl has been touching all over you, she was just like all the others.

coming behind you, she wraps her arms around your waist slowly, mumbling a gruffly said, arrogant, and quite literally—pissed sentiment. “hey babe, who’s…this..?“ she manages to slip in, without you noticing, but clearly the other girl in front of you notices. her face drops as she realizes that the abby anderson was your best friend. and..based on the rumors, probably your girlfriend.

the girl across from you takes a step back, clearing her throat. she mumbles under her breath, “you know…i—I actually have somewhere to be.” she smiles trying to hide her evident panic. “it was—uhm, good talking to you, y/n.”

you turn around to be towered over by abbys stature. you look up at her and sigh, “abs. there was no reason for that.” you say.

while most would argue of her behavior being completely normal, you knew her like the back of your hand. she was clearly bothered.

she snarks, “she was practically undressing you with her fuckin’ eyes baby,” she says. “you have be careful with people like that.”

as much as you hated to admit it, she knew best. she was usually always right about the people you’ve tried to get with.

“js’ stay away from her, okay?” she mumbles.

you sigh.

this is gonna be a looong year.

taglist: @sapphicsuperstar444 @sipskelpjoos @lanafreitas-blog-blog @valenbodoque @jaci-lynn-1 @spacewlf @thatonementallyillsimp @gothbitez @naomis-daydream @bambishaven

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theemporium · 2 days

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Yay congrats!

My order: a smut-berry daiquiri (21 - if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”)

Hot hot, can’t wait!

thank you for requesting! i partially blame @hischierhoney for my feral nico mood🤠anyways, enjoy!

21. "If you want to come, you'll have to beg."

It was a stupid fight.

An incredibly stupid, downright dumb fight that escalated far more than it should have. And to be honest, on any other day, it would have been a small fight that you both would have rolled your eyes and laughed at the very same day because it was stupid.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

It had been a cumulation of things that led to the tension in the fight: between Nico spending every free moment on the ice or at the rink and you being swamped with projects at work, the two of you hadn’t had time for each other. It was something you were both at fault for, and the work stress did not help the situation.

And maybe—just fucking maybe—you missed having each other’s attention. But somewhere in the stress and the tension and the pressure, you both seemed to snap over something as stupid as one of you forgetting to unload the dishwasher.

Which led to you giving Nico the silent treatment on the first day off that the two of you had lined up.

And you regretted it almost the second you started it because half an hour in, you missed him. You missed being able to curl up on his lap. You missed listening to him tell you stories about the boys that you had missed in the last few weeks. You missed standing in the kitchen, both of you moving seamlessly around each other whilst you cooked together. You missed him and his smile and his arms wrapped around you and—

You just really missed your boyfriend.

But you were stubborn. One of the most stubborn people he had ever met and, despite knowing how you felt considering the fact you were lingering in the living room with him instead of locking yourself away like you usually did when you were mad, you weren’t just going to give in and break the silent treatment.

Which meant Nico had to get creative with the ways he got you to finally break.

“I—” You cut yourself off, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you felt his soft kitten licks against your clit.

“C’mon, baby,” he mused, a hint of something teasing and smug in his voice as he squeezed the fat of your thighs. “Gonna keep hiding those pretty noises from me still?”

You pressed your lips together, determined to bite back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out as you pushed your face into the arm of the couch you were currently sprawled on.

“Hm, still being difficult?” He murmured, his warm breath fanning over your soaked cunt and you couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips a little. “Look at my girl, so fucking wet and ready for me. Bet I could just slide right in, you’d take my cock so well. Like you always do.”

And at that, you couldn’t help but let out a pathetic whine.

“There’s my girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh as his hands pressed your hips down into the couch.

“Nico,” you groaned, squirming under his hold with a small huff of annoyance when you felt him continue to give your thighs the attention your pussy wanted.

“You finally done with the silent treatment?” He asked, spoken so casually like he was talking about the weather. Like his face wasn’t buried between your legs moments ago.

“Please,” you grumbled, your pride long forgotten as you glanced down, the sight of him grinning up at you with a few strands of hair in his face making your stomach twist with desire.

“Nuh uh, honey,” he shook his head, keeping your legs spread just how he wanted you. “If you want to come, you’ll have to beg. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“Nico,” you whined but he lightly nipped your inner thigh in response.

“You sound pretty when you beg, baby, let me hear it,” he murmured before he leaned down, licking a slow, broad strip along your cunt. He delighted in the way your back arched off the couch in response. “I know my pretty girl can be good for me, yeah? Beg and make those pretty moans and I’ll make you come as many times as you want, schatz.”

And truthfully, you would have been a fool to turn an offer like that down.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl smut

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jaegeraether · 3 days

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 72)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (59) / Alexia Putellas x Character (29) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (14)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**3.1k**))

ALEXIA POV

“Fuck.” Lucy growled. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“It’s okay. It’s just Ona.”

Alexia watched her jaw twitch as she drove. “Did you ask her to come?” She repeated.

“No.”

She saw her hands on the steering wheel turn white with just how hard she was gripping. Alexia knew Lucy. She couldn’t console her. She needed to be there in the room with them. With Blau. She needed to physically be there to protect her. She was always that way.

Alexia looked down at the warm pile of grey fur cuddled in her lap and smiled. Chiquito was on his back in a position that should have been impossible for his spine, a single paw over his eyes and the other touching Alexia. Needing to know she was there.

“When did you talk to her?”

“This morning after I realise I… was alone.”

Lucy immediately sympathised. She didn’t have to look at her to know. She felt it.

“She call me about the national game this week to see if I go.”

She ran her fingers through the soft fur of his belly, watching him squirm as he enjoyed it, moving his paw from his eyes and slow blinking up at her.

“Will you?”

Alexia sighed. She’d been trying to avoid all of these thoughts. “I don’t know.” She replied in Spanish. Lucy knew enough for that.

She nodded. “If there’s anything we can do…” She cut herself off.

“I know. Thank you. Today will be fun.”

“And there’s YFN’s birthday this week…”

“Oh?”

“This is the whole reason this Lumos event is happening. I called a few girls to come and distract her but it got out of hand. All of the WSL games were played yesterday so everybody has a day off today and came down to mingle and get their content done. It’s a lot. But I really just wanted to organise her birthday with people while she was busy.”

Alexia gave a small smile at that as Chiquito began playing with her hand, pulling it close to lick and then cuddle to it. Lucy was smart by doing that. Blau would have picked up what she was doing otherwise.

“Why you leave so late?”

“The organising? Because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t know what was happening with her and work and Spain and the clubs. And then the accident happened…”

It wasn’t an accident, but she didn’t want to use the word ‘assault’, which was more than understandable.

Chiquito grew tired of being on his back and stood, stretching and then stood on his back legs to nuzzle up to her neck. He was a very loving cat, and she knew he must have missed… her.

Alexia loved Chiquito. She allowed herself to be herself with him. Giving him all of the love and kisses and attention. That was the real Alexia, deep down. Too deep to find. Or at least she thought it was.

She looked over and saw that worried, protective, jaw-twitching Lucy had returned.

“Ona won’t be a problem. She just want to check on me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I know her.” She replied in Spanish.

“Ona likes me.”

“I know.

“She really likes me.”

“I know.”

“I… I was lonely and let her get close. But we didn’t do anything…”

“I know,” Alexia said, softer.

“But you don’t know. My one job is to protect her. And only then make sure she’s happy and loved and has everything she wants. But I feel like I’ve just let her down every step of the way. The messages, the stalking, the brick… the fucking brick… Kristie. Mark. Her believing she was alone and we were broken up. The… accident…”

She almost whispered that. The assault. Alexia didn’t say it aloud but she understood now. Even if Ona wasn’t a threat, everything was a threat to Lucy now. She just needed to…

“I just need to protect her.”

Alexia nodded and she put her hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed. It felt good to be the comforter and not the comforted.

Chiquito settled back down into her lap, his back to her tummy, and his body curled around the entirety of Alexia’s free hand, claiming it as his own.

YFN POV

“Hey chicken,” Caitlin said as her arms came around her from behind and then she spotted Jordan and Leah. “Jordy! Leah!”

She ran around the table and shoved Katie aside to hug their best friends.

Jordan gave her a laugh and a hug back, and so did Leah. “Just did some interviews did you?”

“Yep, just need ta take some photos and we’ll have a break and get some a that lunch YFN was talkin’ about,” Katie said.

Jordan nodded silently and the couple immediately picked up on tension, their eyes wandering around the table.

“Wait, what’s happenin’?”

“What’s the issue? What did we miss?”

“Nothing. No issue..” YFN insisted.

Katie ignored her and started looking around the room until her eyes found Ona standing near the entrance, talking to several Man United players from her days there, though her eyes finding YFN ever so often.

Kyra crashed the party then with her cheeky attitude and said her hello’s. She took a bite of the closest item of food on YFN’s plate and her chewing slowed as her eyes found what the girls were looking at.

“What’s she doing here?” she asked.

Silence again. Shit. They didn’t know about Alexia and Ridley and there was no way to explain otherwise.

“She’s-” Leah started.

“-just here to see Alexia and do some press.” YFN cut off, appreciating that she was trying to help.

“Wasn’t she and Lucy a thing?” she asked.

“Not exactly..”

“Speakin’ of – where is she?” Katie interjected.

“Picking up Alexia.”

“Alexia’s coming? That’s great! Is Ridley coming?” Kyra blurted. She couldn’t be mad at her, it was Kyra after all and she was as innocent as they came.

More silence. Leah didn’t even attempt to speak this time. The silence lasted until Katie said, “Fuck. That bad?”

YFN cringed but it was all the response they needed. “That’s why she’s here?”

“I assume so… please don’t say anything.” She looked at Kyra and grabbed onto her cheeks with her good hand, her face puffed out with the food she had in there. She reminded her of a little Lucy sometimes. “Especially you. Don’t mention Ridley at all. Got in?”

She nodded until her face was released and she could swallow. “Yes, mum.”

“She looks a little out of place…” Alex said sympathetically, looking at Ona across the room.

It was true. Although she was surrounded by friends and former teammates, she still looked a little awkward and to be honest, she didn’t blame her. But in YFN’s head, everybody was making a big fuss over something so small. Lucy and Ona were never a thing. She liked Lucy, but so did the majority of the lesbian community. How could she ever be upset at someone for liking the person she adored with every fibre of her being?

“How far away is Lucy?” Kyra asked as a joke-not-joke.

Katie slapped her arm.

“We need to get going over to do our photos..” Caitlin said, tugging at Katie.

“On your way… can you two invite Ona over here, please?” YFN asked.

ONA POV

Ona had never before heard Alexia in such a state as that morning. She was crying, her voice shaking, half-asleep, and yet, somehow, Ona knew she was still holding back. She was destroyed. And Ona knew exactly what that felt like. She was always head over heels for Lucy and truly believed they were on their way to becoming something more when she’d met YFN. She didn’t hate either of them, she didn’t hate anyone. She simply grieved something she’d lost, and what’s worse, the potential of that something. And so when she heard Alexia so heartbroken over Ridley, she did the one thing she’d want someone to do for her. Be there.

Ona booked a flight as soon as Alexia had hung up. She’d messaged her but assumed she’d fallen asleep, and some part of her said maybe catching a flight was too dramatic, but she’d heard that pain in her voice, and Alexia was never, ever like that. Ever. She was going to be there for her friend because that’s who Ona was.

She was aware from a young age that she felt differently… more deeply… more passionately than other people. She was touchy and almost shy, and had her feelings affected by anything quite easily. She loved hugs and kisses, anything physical, from any of the people she was comfortable with, and although she knew it could be a bit much for some people, she didn’t care. It’s just the way she showed her emotions and to be quite frank, it helped take the edge off of the enormity of the things she felt. Alexia acted tough, but Ona had known her for a while. From Barca, the Spanish National team and prior to that, when they were young. And so she knew she was really a softy. She liked hugs. She liked being cared for. She just didn’t want anyone thinking that.

Ona messaged as she landed, and still nothing. She could have been asleep or more likely, she was ignoring her. She wasn’t surprised. Instead – she saw all of the messages from the girls about the Lumos event and jumped on board. Even if Alexia wasn’t there, perhaps players there would know where she was, or… maybe even YFN.

Although they’d had very little interaction, she knew it was because of their awkwardness towards the situation rather than any animosity. Whenever Ona had caught her eye at the pub, she’d never shied away from it. She’d always given her a smile, and not an empathetic one either, a polite one. That told her everything she needed to know about the woman. Yet, regardless of how nice she seemed, Ona did also hold a little hope that she would see Lucy at some point and be able to talk to her because fuck, did she miss her.

When Alexia didn’t respond, Ona took a taxi from the airport to Lumos and was greeted by chaos. She followed the directions of the staff as best as she could with their quick English and found herself being led into a room reverberating with a loud mass of voices, music, pets and other sounds. She didn’t have to wonder where to go first. Just as soon as she stepped into the room, her eyes found YFN. She was holding a phone up to her ear and paused before giving a smile and collecting herself.

She wondered if she should go over, or if she even liked her, but before she could argue both sides further in her head, her old Man United friends were there and surrounding her with excitement at her sudden arrival. She greeted them all and had a little catch up, letting them tell her about the different things she could do content-wise today. They encouraged it and honestly, it sounded like a great idea to fulfil her content needs in her own time and space, rather than being forced by her manager to find some for her to stay relevant and find sponsors. She just wished she’d brought Coco. Regardless of the girls all chatting around her, and Ona trying her best to distinguish the English from each other, her eyes kept finding YFN as she was talking in her group.

Just when Ona thought she’d be stuck there forever, two Arsenal players she’d briefly met before, Katie and Caitlin came over from YFN’s table and extended an invite to join her.

“Go, go!” Lucía García encouraged in Spanish. “She’s organising it all for us so she’s the person to talk to!”

Lucia wasn’t aware at that stage of Ona’s crush on Lucy otherwise she would have offered to keep her in the wheelchair. An over-exaggeration as she usually did.

She politely withdrew herself with the promise to see them all later, and headed over to YFN’s table where she now sat alone. She looked around and saw Leah Williamson, Jordan Nobbs and Alex Scott all sitting in an area with couches, headsets and microphones, talking and pointing around the area which was set up for podcasting.

“Hi,” she greeted, politely using English.

“Hola, Ona,” she smiled in return, though wincing slightly and dropped the smile a little. Ona’s eyes found her bruised jaw and she felt sick in her stomach. As she came around the table to kiss her on either cheek, she saw the wheelchair she was sitting in, her knee in a brace, her arm in a sling and couldn’t help the pure empathy that seeped from her. How was it possible to do that to another human being? And if Ona had ended up with Lucy, would they have done the same to her?

She sat down adjacent to her, YFN automatically moving her laptop and paperwork out of the way.

“How are you?” she asked, genuinely curious.

YFN chuckled and it was a cute, humble thing. “I’ve been better.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it.” Another smile. She was also great with eye contact and her eyes held… intelligence and awareness. She could see why Lucy liked her so much. “You’ve come for Alexia?”

“Sí. I could not see her here..”

“She’s not yet. I think she’s slept most of this morning or just been ignoring her phone. Luce is on her way here now with her.”

“Ah.” She felt good, knowing that Alexia was coming, and that she’d seen her messages. “Do you know much?”

“I was going to ask you the same..”

“She call me this morning very upset. She kept saying ‘she left’ and that she didn’t deserve to be loved.”

“That Ridley didn’t deserve to be loved?”

“No.. no… Alexia. She wouldn’t let me say anything bad about her to make her feel better.” Ona knew her accent was strong as she struggled for words in English, but YFN was patient with her, following every word.

She nodded.

“Is it… true? She is gone?”

Another nod. She looked as if she knew more, but didn’t say, and Ona didn’t ask as she knew the relationship between the two and that it was private.

“Never coming back?”

She sighed. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. I just… I’ve never seen Ridley so in love before. And the one thing I know about her is just how unpredictable she can be sometimes.”

“Did they…” Ona didn’t finish the sentence, fearing the question was too inappropriate but she knew just how much of a difference that would have made to the situation. Sex always complicates things.

“I believe so.”

Ona swore in Spanish.

“Didn’t you have a game last night? You must be tired..”

“I am used to it I think,” she admitted. The two shared a smile.

“For what it’s worth, I think you coming here to be there for Alexia is beautiful. You’re a really good friend.”

Ona hadn’t expected the rawness of what she’d just said. She held her eye contact and could feel the blush on her face a little. “Thank you. She would do the same for me. Alexia… does not have… do emotions well… if that makes sense. She hides and be’s strong so when I heard her I knew I must come.”

YFN nodded knowingly. “Will you stay here or take her home?”

“Whatever she wants. I need to be with the national team by Wednesday.”

It was Monday now and their new coach was not lenient in the slightest, though still somehow a slight improvement on the last. Alexia was still injured and not playing, though she tended to go and be supportive when she could. Right now Ona wondered if that was what she needed most.

“I wonder what will be better for her,” YFN pondered aloud, mirroring Ona’s thoughts. Her heart jumped a little. Maybe they were a lot alike in the way they thought and empathised and acted. Maybe that’s why Lucy liked her so much. And maybe, just maybe, Ona was also Lucy’s type.

She shook the thoughts from her head and watched as YFN wriggled a little uncomfortably in her chair. It must be horrible to be stuck in one place for fear of pain and an inability to move far.

“I am really sorry for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.” She meant it, every word. And she wanted to say more but knew she didn’t have to. YFN understood the ‘more’ without her having to say it. She’d noticed that about her.

“Thanks Ona. I really appreciate that. It means a lot.” She reached across the corner of the table with her good arm extended, and Ona took her hand and squeezed. They held each other’s hands and eyes and it felt cathartic, almost. And she knew it was more than just a thank you. It was a sign that things were okay between them, and that they both understood and appreciated each other, regardless of the Lucy complication.

As if she knew she was there, YFN’s eyes snapped straight towards the entrance Ona had walked in to see Lucy standing there, almost dishevelled, her eyes flicking between the two and to their joined hands and back. God, she looked good. Ona saw her throat bobble as she swallowed her emotions.

With her eyes falling on YFN and only her, she made her way across the room with purpose, and Ona couldn’t help but want her eyes back on her. She was distracted from her wanting, though, as she spotted Alexia entering the room with her famous frown and sunglasses. She was dressed well, as was typical of la Reina and her facial expression held no happiness there. She moved her glasses to the top of her head and her eyes also found the pair, examining the situation and then Lucy stalking for them. She was always in Captain mode.

She looked quite normal besides the slightly red, puffy eyes, which could be explained away easily with a lack of sleep, and Ona was unsurprised and indifferent by the attention she caught just by being there.

In fact, the only thing different about her was that she had a little grey cat perched over her shoulder, his head scanning the room before nuzzling back into her neck.

The little grey cat who Ona immediately recognised as Chiquito.

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bothoutsiders · 1 day

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Bruce: Jason should be the bigger person.

Tim: The person that was harmed shouldn't have to be the bigger person when they were the one mistreated and neglected.

It made his blood boil. His heart felt like it wanted to get out of his chest and fight the man in front of him with its own fists.

“It has been years, Timothy. He shouldn’t be holding grudges for that long.”

A small sound escaped Tim’s lips. The frustration bubbled from his chest and his limbs felt as heavy as lead.

How dare Bruce speak that way? How could he be so selfish and blind to see that he was in a way worse situation?

“Bruce…” Tim spoke after a big pause, only because he didn’t know how to put everything into words. How to throw it at his face and make him see. How to force him to open his eyes and comprehend what he has done, what he is saying, and what he was expecting from others.

The man across from him kept staring in silence, waiting.

“You can’t expect Jason to not resent you after everything that has happened. He was a kid when he was murdered. How would you have felt if you came back from the death and saw that the only adult who was nice to you and would act like a real parent, didn’t do anything to the murderer? He let him continue planning more crimes, hurting more innocent people. You never stopped him, Bruce.” He frowned, feeling his body stiff from the pent-up anger. “You let Jason rot in that box while the Joker ran free, breathing your same air.”

“Tim, that’s not how–”

“Shut up. Shut up and listen for once.” He pressed his thin index finger against the man’s chest. “Jason came back, and he wasn’t avenged. He saw someone else was replacing him. He believed he had been forgotten and everyone was better without him. Nobody spoke to him, nobody explained anything to him. Nobody has done that yet! And how many years has it been? Seven? And you expect him to just realize by himself and forgive you? Forgive you even when you went to him and didn’t care to expose him to his trauma again only so that he could tell you how he came back from the death? Because you were using him to get Damian back. That doesn’t excuse you. Let’s not forget about the many, many times you have beat him up, but you never do that to criminals…”

“He’s not a child anymore. Once you grow up, you have to heal your own wounds, make yourself responsible for how you feel now. How you react to the past.”

Tim snorted and took a step back. He stared at Bruce but he was serious, there was no hint of him joking, and Tim couldn’t help but start laughing.

“You’re such a hypocrite. Aren't you Bruce Thomas Wayne, the one who still has nightmares about what happened that night with your parents? The one who still holds a grudge since you were eight years old?” Tim got ready to leave. “Grow up, child.”

#JayTim #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #not bruce friendly #never b friendly #request #w: story

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it-happened-one-fic · 2 days

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Stuff of Fairytales - Floyd

Author Notes: Happy MerMay Twisted Wonderland! I won't lie, this fic kind of flew together while I was just sitting and chatting with my mom and sister. It doesn't have any specific music that it was written to or anything like that and my only real idea that went into this was MerMay. Nonetheless, I had fun writing this fic. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ MerMay/ fluff/ romance implied/ sfw

Word Count: 1264

Ignoring Floyd was always something that one did at one’s own risk. Especially when he was staring quite as pointedly as he was staring at me right now. And even more especially so considering that I was sitting on the edge of the pool while Floyd was in his merform.

He drifted over, and I cautiously met his stare, not entirely sure as to what I should expect from him.

For one thing, he’d been oddly peaceful this entire time. And while that didn’t necessarily mean anything, it still felt suspiciously like the calm before a storm.

He tilted his head, slowly coming to a steady stop right in front of me before crossing his arms and resting them on my knees, where I had my legs hanging over the edge of the pool and in the cool water, “Hey Shrimpy, did your world have any merpeople?”

His tone was relatively innocent, but I still felt my eyebrows lift warily before I shook my head. Half-surprised by his question even as I answered him, “No… They’re the stuff of fairytales in my world…. Kind of like magic is.”

He hummed, rolling his mismatched eyes up to meet mine as he rested his chin on his arms. Almost as if he were, suspiciously enough, trying to look innocent.

I watched him silently for a moment before finally biting the bullet and questioning him as he continued to stare up at me, “Why?”

That singular word had a grin splitting its way across his face, perfectly displaying his too-sharp teeth that made so many others uncomfortable.

But just like how I’d somehow gotten used to his merform’s slimy texture, I was perfectly used to his sharp-toothed grins by now.

“Nothing~ It just explains why you had such a cute, surprised reaction when you first saw mine and Jade’s merforms.”

I rolled my eyes slightly at his teasing tone, even as I smiled despite myself at his words, “You say that like I was the only one who was surprised. I seem to recall Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Grim all being pretty shocked too.”

Despite my words, I couldn’t deny that I had been genuinely startled. Floyd and Jade were nothing like the fluttery, magical creatures I’d imagined as a child. Instead, they were far more dangerous-looking. Something that was fitting, considering their personalities.

But even then, there had still been something enchanting about seeing a merperson for the first time. Much less two of them.

Not that I was ever going to tell Floyd that. He was already amused enough as it was.

Floyd faux-pouted up at me in an almost playful manner, “But none of them were cute. They just looked like a bunch of guppies silently opening and closing their mouths.”

He paused as I fought the urge to snort at his analogy, and, as if somehow he could sense my amusement, he grinned again. His tail slashing through the water as his eyes all but sparkled at me, “You weren’t like that though, Shrimpy. Your eyes were all bright. Like you were excited.”

I almost sighed at his pointed, pleased-sounding words. Because while I couldn’t say that they were wholly accurate, they were a little too perceptive in a way that I could only describe as very Octavinelle.

Floyd, Jade, and Azul were all practically uncanny when it came to their ability to hit upon something people didn’t want them to know.

“I wasn’t excited….” I trailed off unconvincingly, not entirely sure how to defend myself in this situation since he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Lying would be useless. Floyd was so used to his brother’s slippery nature that he would be able to see through any fib I came up with in a nanosecond.

I didn’t have to rush, though. Floyd was waiting. An amused smile on his face as he waited for me to give up in a rare display of patience from the usually restless young man.

But then, I supposed being patient might be easier when victory was assured. His grin wasn’t making it any easier for me to come up with an excuse, though.

“Well, how would you react if you suddenly saw something out of a fairytale?!” I gave up in an exasperated half-surrender.

I refused to tell Floyd that a slight bit of childish enchantment and awe had shot through me when I’d first seen him and his brother’s merforms.

Doing that would just result in him telling his brother, and then there really would be no escaping the teasing and harassment.

As it was, I would just have to put up with Floyd’s teasing and amusement until he drifted onto another topic. He might bring back up my initial reaction to his merform every so often, but I could deal with that.

After all, it was only fair with how often I got to pick him on numerous things as well.

At odds with my expectations of his laughter, Floyd straightened from where he’d been resting his chin on his arms this entire time and tilted his head in a thoughtful fashion.

After a brief moment, he grinned, and something ever-so-slightly worrying flickered through his mismatched eyes as he met my gaze once more, “I guess I’d squeeze ‘em.”

Before I could even think about reacting, his arms were wrapping themselves around my waist. Pulling me closer and squeezing me with a surprising degree of care considering who it was that I was dealing with.

I gasped slightly in surprise at both his actions and the cold from his wet arms, my hands flying up and grabbing hold of his shoulders in a slight panic. Not entirely trusting him to not pull me into the pool with him.

I didn’t go splashing down into the water though, and my reaction only caused Floyd to grin even more at me, “Your reactions are too much fun, Shrimpy~”

His words were all but cooed, and I frowned slightly, “Floyd, you know your slime is hard to get out of clothes.”

I scolded him in retaliation, continuing to frown down at him, but my words were met with little more than a nonchalant shrug from the merman, who certainly didn't seem like he was going to be letting go of me anytime soon.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content, smiling up at me from the pool that I was now perched precariously on the edge of. Fully relying on Floyd to keep me balanced as he held onto me.

He smiled, tilting his head slightly, perfectly unbothered as he grinned up at me, “Just use the washer at Octavinelle and tell Azul it’s my fault.”

I sighed at his words, feeling myself surrender ever-so-slightly as I let a smile slip onto my face. Sometimes it really did feel like there was no winning against Floyd, and, to be fair, his plan probably would work.

Azul was nothing if not used to Floyd’s mercurial ways that often caused him troubles.

I relaxed, letting my hands continue to rest easily on Floyd’s shoulders as I smiled down at him, “Just don’t come whining to me later.”

He outright grinned at my words, his eyes sparkling in an almost challenging way, “No promises~”

I shook my head fondly at both him and his words as I continued to smile down at the man who hugged me close to him.

Floyd himself might not exactly be the stuff of fairytales, but he was definitely unforgettable, and there wasn’t a thing I would change about him.

Even if he could be a pest sometimes.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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AITA for ignoring my ex's threats of suicide?

this is a very old story, but it keeps eating at the back of my brain because i feel like the asshole in the situation, even though people close to me say im not.

i (19nb) broke up with my girlfriend (16f) and told her that we may get back together in the future. we broke up because she was incredibly emotionally draining, it was a long distance relationship, and also, i felt uncomfortable being nearly 20 dating someone in high school (i was also uncomfortable with our age difference for the year prior, but thats a whole other can of worms).

after breaking up, i stayed in contact, because she was my friend and i still liked her as a friend, just not a partner. she had some pretty severe home life issues, and had made extreme comments before ("nobody loves me, everyone hates me, no one would care if i disappeared" those sorts of things). now, i personally chalked it up to be a mix of teenage angst and homelife issues, but she had never made outright threats on her life before. it was always vague, or just an outright meltdown that i would care for her during.

i told her i was taking time for myself, and would probably not date anyone. a few months pass and i meet my then partner (now spouse). i know i fucked up in not telling her that i was seeing someone new, but i didnt really want the backlash of her screaming and yelling and crying over this, so i didnt tell her we were dating, just that i was spending a few months in his country (he had a place of his own, was older and more financially stable, it made sense at the time) and we had grown close.

it came out during a call, about 2 months into me dating and living with my partner, and probably about 5/6 months after i had broken up with them. she had asked if/when i was moving back home, and i told them i didnt know, because i was planning on living in his country. she asked if i was dating him, and i didnt want to lie, so i said we were. she got incredibly hostile, telling me that i shouldnt have lied to her and that i had said i wasnt going to date anyone. she completely melted down, getting incredibly angry to the point of tears, before telling me she was going to end it.

i panicked at that point and started trying to help her through tears, telling her i would do anything, before my partner took my phone from me and blocked her on that social media, calmly telling me to message her friends the situation, and that it wasnt my issue to deal with. i finished blocking her on our other socials (with her messaging me that she was so sorry), did what he said, and waited.

her friends confirmed she was okay later, but they were upset with me for not sticking around and helping her through her suicide attempt.

i still feel like an asshole, even though its been nearly 4 years since its happened. i feel like i should have done literally anything except what i did. ik my partner did the right thing, but also. i dunno. i feel bad i guess.

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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dudeitiskarev · 1 day

Text

Maybe Someday | Ch. 8

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: feelings come to light and neither knows how to handle it.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags/warnings: mention of reader’s abortion, regrets, love confession *gasps*

Author’s note: this part was so a bit tedious to finish because they just didn’t want to talk about their almost kiss and nothing felt right. I had to grab them each by their ear and sit them in a room and force them to talk 🤭

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SPENCER MASTERLIST

You’d come to his place to address the big elephant in the room. Instead, you got slapped in the face with memories.

Henry was the kid that was born the day you had an abortion. He was a beautiful and kind little human who managed to turn your very exhausting day into a lightweight.

When you held him, he’d caressed your cheeks and nose with his tiny fingers. It helped him fall asleep and you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would be like right now if you hadn’t gone through with the procedure (what would make your baby fall asleep so soundly).

You wouldn’t have Spencer, that’s for sure. Which was enough reason to know it was the right choice. But you wondered, how much you wondered...

The front door opened and you jumped, trying your best to gather yourself before Spencer made it next to you.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down. “You okay?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I miss Henry already,” You said through a small laugh.

You missed your baby. What could’ve been. What could still be.

“Yeah, he has that effect on people as soon as he leaves,” Spencer gave you a lopsided smile.

You’d healed since then but that didn’t mean you’d ever forget and you had too many emotions playing with your body right now. Your throat was too tight to even swallow properly.

You cleared your throat. “I think I’m gonna go now.” You stood up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants and reaching for your purse.

Spencer mirrored you and stood in your way. “Sorry, I didn’t think of it when you said you wanted to go.” He gulped with guilt. “Henry triggered memories, didn’t he?”

You smiled. Of course, he’d noticed.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” He raised his brows. “I insisted you’d come in.”

“No, I should’ve called before showing up. I just wanted to ta—“You bit your tongue right away and looked away “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Talk about what?” He searched for your eyes.

You took a deep breath, raising your brows. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“You can talk to me, you know?”

No man has ever been so soft-spoken to you about everything, always, all the time. You wished he had the power to make himself tiny so you could put him inside your pocket and carry him with you forever.

“I know, but… you haven’t mentioned it so I don’t think I should either.”

Spencer stared and his chest rose as he took a deep breath. “Is it about how we almost kissed?”

He’d probably been thinking about it more than you.

You huff a small embarrassed laugh, raising your brows. “About that day, yes.” Spencer didn’t respond, giving you the window to talk about what’s been keeping you up at night these past two weeks. “I… I got very emotional,” you began, moving your hands and using them as a second language in case words turned blurry. “You made me very emotional by showing up out of nowhere with perfect gifts and perfect things to say and I guess I got carried away with my feelings.” You brought one palm to your chest. “Not that I didn’t mean what I said but after, what happened after is what”—you chuckled at the memories that were still so damn vivid—“I cried and we hugged very closely and—“ you clasped them together. This was going terribly already. “I think it made things awkward between us. I mean, we barely talked for like two weeks and now I’m making it more awkward but… I needed to address it.”

You ended up so out of breath you were lightheaded. But you didn’t sit down. You wanted to run. Disappear. Become dust. But he was still in your way.

“Yeah.” Spencer raised his brows, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I got carried away too?” He gulped and his voice slowly faded as he added, “Not that I didn’t mean any of it either.”

You took a step closer and placed your palm over his upper arm. “You’re my best friend, Spencer.”

His arm twitched at your touch and his gaze softened, his brows pinched together ever so slightly and his honey-sweet voice came out so pained it began to shatter the ice surrounding—protecting—your heart as he said, “I don’t want you like a best friend.”

Oh, this was not how it was supposed to go.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, taking a step back and saying the first thing that came to your mind. “You’re… you’re getting the wrong message.”

“Am I?” He took half a step closer.

He was making it so hard. To stay put. Stay away. And right now, more than ever, a strong warmth welled in your chest.

“I would’ve kissed you if Noah hadn’t shown up,” he said. “And I know you would’ve kissed me, too.”

Something inside you cracked. It was the ice around your heart melting.

“We would’ve kissed.” He lifted his hand and caressed your cheek with the back of his curled fingers.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean… anything.” You shut your eyes in an attempt to dodge his touch.

It was getting so, so warm inside you.

“It does to me,” he replied.

So warm.

“I’m in love with you,” he bluntly confessed, raw and straightforward.

Your breath hitched and the air in your lungs was gone. The man you loved, loved you back.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

So, so, so incredibly warm.

“I love you,” Spencer said. “I know you. I know who you are, and I love you. Just like that. I love you.”

You opened your eyes and caught the plea in his eyes.

“Say you don’t love me and I promise you”—he begged, cradling your face with both hands—“I’ll try my hardest to make it go away if that’s what you want. Just say you don’t love me back and I’ll… make it stop.” You couldn’t move or breathe or talk or do anything at all. It sounded like a prayer. Like he was talking to an all-powerful being, begging for an answer. “I know you have feelings for me too. I know you do, you wouldn’t have said all those beautiful things if you didn’t.”

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrists to tear yourself off his touch. But you stayed there, hands clutching. “I’m not good for you.” Your voice barely came out.

“Don’t… say that.”

“I have nothing to offer, Spencer I… you deserve someone that—”

His eyes darkened and his tone changed as he said, “Why won’t you let me in?”

Because the last time you did—letting in a man by saying ‘I love you’—he got you pregnant then left you. You’d realized soon after that it was attachment disguised as love. And deep down you feared this might be it, again.

“I need… a moment.” You let go of his touch and walked past him on your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” He walked behind you.

“Home.” You turned the knob and opened it. “I… I need to think, Spencer.”

“No!” He slammed the door shut with his whole palm. “Just talk to me, damn it!”

You flinched by instinct, but even his loud voice was filled with care.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he brought one hand to his mouth. “I don’t know what—“

“What do you want me to say?!” You matched his tone. It was all about to come out now. It was brewing within you. The love. “That I love you too?! That it terrifies me to love you this much.” You closed the gap between you two and pointed a finger at yourself. “Good things don’t happen to me. And you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to do anything different because I want to keep you in my life. Like this. This far away. Forever.”

Spencer held your face tenderly and scanned your probably wrecked features. “You don’t have to do anything.” He begged. “You don’t have to do anything differently at all. Please.”

The hurt in his tone was like a ton of needles wanting to get through you.

“I’m scared,” You murmured. “What if—

His forehead was glued to yours now. “I won’t go anywhere. And I won’t let you go away ever again. Just… let me in and we’ll figure it all out together. Just don’t walk away. Don’t leave me. Please,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

He sounded so scared. All you could do was nod with guilt, licking your lips. “I won’t. I promise.”

He then fell silent. Only your shaky breaths separated you. Your foreheads glued together, his hands cradling your entire head, almost, and your hands clutching his waist. Hearts beating for each other.

He’d said he loved you and you admitted loving him back, and neither was doing anything about it.

“I… I still have to go home,” you broke the silence.

“I know.” His lips were hovering over yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he added, “Just let me… have you this close a little longer. Let me—“

He cut himself off by leaning. His lips grazed yours ever so slightly yet he didn’t kiss you, as if there was a magnetic force keeping your lips from touching properly.

“Spencer,” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Just kiss me already.”

“I’m trying I—“

You yanked him by the nape of his neck and pressed your lips together. It was harsh, but he was taking too long. His hands traveled down your sides to your waist and pulled you closer into a tight hug as the kiss slowly became a real one.

He let out a dark sound as he parted his lips, changing the pace. Took charge and the earth stopped spinning. This was your only world right now, in his arms and his lips and his hands burying into your body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes as if you couldn’t be any closer. You wanted him closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin. Be a part of him and let him have you whole.

He abruptly pulled away to catch some air, panting against your lips.

“I need— I’m getting too eager, hold on.” He pressed his forehead with yours again.

You swallowed, trying to regulate your breathing but your thoughts came out loud. “God, Spencer. I didn’t think you’d be such a good kisser.”

You were still levitating.

“Uh, thank you?” He sort of laughed.

“Would you kiss me again?” You asked, searching for his eyes but he had them shut tight. You missed his lips already. You needed to keep kissing him until it all became real.

“Right now?” His voice came out slightly high-pitched.

“Or in a billion years. I can wait.”

You’ll wait for him forever and would relive your life a thousand times if it meant you’ll have this again.

He laughed a little. “You don’t have to wait that long.”

YAYYYYYYYY they finally stopped being so stupid 🤭

From now on everything is even more fast paced. There’s only 2 chapters left 💖

Thank you to everyone who’s been following this little story so far. I see you and I appreciate you all so very much 🥹🫶💖

#spencer reid self insert #Spencer Reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

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redeliminator · 1 day

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Well, they did NOT survive their teenage codependent homoerotic friendship

I have the priviledge of being an adult and being able to look back on my teenage years happy that I made it out. It wasn't easy and I had my fair share of pretty dark experiences, so I've been thinking A LOT what would have happened to me if I had found myself in a position like Andre when I was 17. So I wrote it down - the story of Andre and Cal's relationship from (mostly) Andre's POV and the whole emotional turmoil of ending your life alongside your best friend. All with a couple of not-so-subtle personal throw-ins. It's a mess and a long one on top of that, I'm sorry ;__;

—

After years of living with all these thoughts you’re too scared to open up about, suddenly it turns out that your (only) lifelong friend is actually not that different. Not only doesn’t he flinch at your uncanny remarks; he actually thinks they’re spot-on and laughs at your jokes that would probably send you straight into detention.

So far, the more people learnt about you, the more they drifted away. Suddenly, it doesn’t happen. Quite the contrary, the messed up things seem to strengthen the bond instead. For the first time, someone welcomes you into their inner life just the way you are and doesn’t expect you to “mend your ways” before they let you in. You gradually uncover the parts of yourself you have never shown to anyone before. It feels like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders. Like it was destined to happen. It feels real.

It is not at all surprising that in the end, you brought out the worst in each other. After all, your final bond was built on the acceptance of the darkest parts of your personalities. You fed off each other to the point of lethal codependency. You were nothing without him and he was nothing without you.

It was insane. But you felt validated. Starving for someone who understands, you clung to each other and never let go.

So, when you’re standing in that library, guns slung over your shoulders and blood spilling beneath your feet, and that guy, who led you out of that lonely misery and gave your life a spark, tells you that you’re done - well, you’re done. You’d follow him anywhere because what other choice do you have? You killed people. You’re not getting away on your own. You’re not doing it without him. It’s either both of you or none of you. So you agree.

But deep inside, you know there’s so much left to say. The world is wide enough for the two of you, why wouldn’t you want to explore it? We had a plan, we were supposed to last. All of that is suddenly cut short. Just like the lives you’ve just taken. What an irony.

And suddenly you wish you had never left that car. Or that you had swerved it just before pulling into the parking lot. What the fuck are you doing?! That’s when it should have been said: I’m done. You’re done. We’re done.

You never figured out if it was platonic or romantic. You probably didn’t even know what platonic meant. But there was one thing you had no doubt about: that loving him was the easiest thing in the world.

… until it wasn’t.

That love tripped you up just when everything you thought you wanted was only a few inches away. Suddenly, it felt like jumping into a lake only to realize that concrete bricks have been tied to your feet.

You might have been done with the revenge, but you weren’t done loving him. In fact, you barely even started. You never even fully acknowledged it. You repressed it, scared of and confused about the intricacies of your own identity and feelings.

But what are you supposed to do about it now? Where will all that love go, if you refuse to go down together? Do you even have a choice at all? You won’t make it on your own. The only choice you have is whose hand will fire the shot that will end it all. There is no “if”.

It’s pretty safe to say that you agreeing to a double suicide is a spur-of-the-moment decision. No one would think clearly when faced with this kind of choice under such circumstances. You have just taken more than a dozen innocent lives. If they catch you, it’s game over. It’s a pathetic failure.

You were supposed to escape in a blaze of glory: a getaway car, a police chase, a rain of bullets fired towards you as you take one last look in the rearview mirror knowing you’re never gonna see this town again. You’ve turned the place that destroyed you into smoldering ruins and now you kiss it goodbye. It doesn’t get better than this.

But it’s not what happens. Suddenly, as you look around the room and glance over the dead bodies, you realize the thrill is gone. The excitement has vanished into thin air. The only thing you’re hearing are police sirens and people whimpering in pain. The reality of what you’ve done and what awaits you comes crashing down on you. It’s not glorious. It’s not rewarding. It’s bleak and hopeless. It’s a dead end.

—

Andre had to tone down Cal's carelessness during the preparations. No, we’re not gonna break into Brad’s garage and risk being spotted. No, your open mic poetry evening was not a fun idea; it was inconsiderate and dangerous. No, even if we had an M-80, we wouldn’t use it for a ceremonial explosion at my family’s vacation home where everyone could see it.

And suddenly, as they’re wandering through the school looking at the carnage they caused, the roles get reversed. It’s Cal who has to lead Andre into the grim reality.

We’re not making it out. We can still leave on our terms though. It’s your call.

The question is, did Cal really believe they didn’t stand a chance or did he use the circumstances to get what he wanted: for both of them to die?

If Andre didn’t agree, would Cal have the guts to shoot him himself? I don’t think he would. There was only one way Cal wanted it to end. I think Cal may have had some sort of feelings for Andre, but, in a fashion similar to Andre, he didn’t know exactly what these feelings were as he never got around to disentangling them. Cal was mentally ill, heavily unstable and out of touch with reality, but I think deep inside he still had the ability to feel. He could barely connect with that part of him, but it was still there. And Andre kept it alive because he did something no one else would ever do for Cal. He provided Cal with the means to die the way he wanted. A spectacular way out.

And Cal would be forever grateful for that, even if that “forever” would come to an end in just a matter of seconds. How do you even thank someone for a favor like this? Thanks for letting me die, even though you didn’t know I planned it? How do you find someone who you don’t even have to ask for it? Hey, what would you say if we killed a bunch of people to send some twisted message that only we understand and then we blew our brains out?

The thing is, none of them had to ask. The idea was already there. Maybe except for the “blowing our brains out” part. In any case, this is a one in a million chance that you find someone like this.

#this was for my own peace of mind #I really needed to organize my thoughts on this and I literally feel relieved that I've finally done this #zero day #zero day 2003 #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #calvin gabriel #zero day movie

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dixons-sunshine · 2 days

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we BEG for some vamp!daryl x reader headcanons😩

Vampire!Daryl Dixon x Reader Headcannons

Word count: 881.

A/n: Ask and you shall receive! I'm so happy that y'all like my version of vamp!Daryl. It really means the world to me. Also, I'm working on a Michonne fic that I wanted to have up tonight but it's taking me a little longer than I had anticipated, so it should be up tomorrow instead. Anyway, I hope you like this!

★ Daryl kept his vampire side a secret from everyone at the quarry camp.

★ He fed on his hunts and never around people.

★ He'd eat the beans that were offered to him by you, but realistically he knew that, even though he could consume human food, they held absolutely no nutrition for him and he'd starve if he didn't feed. So he'd eat the food offered to him and just get the blood he needed when he went on hunts.

★ You were the first person to find out that he was a vampire, and it was completely on accident.

★ You had stumbled across him feeding on a rabbit when you went looking for mushrooms, and had freaked out at the sight.

★ However, you didn't freak out because he was feeding on a rabbit. You freaked out because, from your perspective, he looked like a walker, hunched over the rabbit.

★ It took a lot of convincing and reassurance for you to calm down and not tell the others what you had seen.

★ You kept his secret pretty well, considering the fact that you seemed to be afraid of him.

★ However, you started getting more comfortable around him when you sustained an injury while looking for Sophia that was extremely bloody and he didn't even flinch. He simply picked you up and took you to Hershel to get you fixed up.

★ When you later asked him about it, he told you that he had years of practice behind him. That's how he was able to resist the smell of your blood.

★ The two of you formed an unlikely friendship after that. It shocked everyone, including Daryl himself, but for some unknown reason, he wasn't complaining.

★ You were the one who hunted and brought back some animal blood for him when he was injured while looking for Sophia.

★ You were also the one who convinced Hershel to let Daryl back to his tent earlier. You knew with Daryl's advanced healing, and with the blood you got for him, he'd be healed in no time. That would be extremely hard to explain.

★ Daryl's identity got revealed when the farm fell and he used some of his inhuman speed to save a couple of people.

★ It took a while to get used to him after that, but when people saw he didn't pose any immediate threats, people weren't too worried about him anymore.

★ Yours and Daryl's relationship only grew as the days progressed.

★ You went hunting with Daryl and asked him questions about his species, and without him really knowing, you made a mental list as to how to care for him.

★ One thing you were surprised to note was his complete self-control when it came to human blood. You knew he had told you that he had years of practice, but it was still impressive to see his self-restraint.

★ Daryl once had to kill a person with his fangs to save you. That's the only time you saw him lose control and feed on a human.

★ He thought that you'd be terrified of him after that, but you weren't. Quite the contrary, you found what he did to keep you safe kind of hot, but you would never outrightly admit that to him.

★ As the days went on, Daryl's feelings for you only grew stronger.

★ Unbeknownst to him, your feelings for him grew stronger as well.

★ When the prison fell, Daryl felt as if he just wanted to die completely.

★ And when he found you again after Terminus with Carol and Tyreese, he felt like he was alive again—truly alive for the first time in decades.

★ The weeks before you found Alexandria was a whirlwind of emotions.

★ But when you got to Alexandria, things started to look up. So much so that you felt courageous enough to just act on an impulse and grab him by his jacket and pull him into a kiss.

★ That first night in Alexandria, the two of you spent a passionate night together.

★ The two of you kept your relationship a secret from everyone. Daryl's identity wasn't a secret from the people in Alexandria because he couldn't be bothered to hide that part of him, so the two of you didn't need any judgement from them because a human and a vampire were in a relationship.

★ The first time Daryl ever agreed to drink from you was after your first encounter with Dwight and Sherry.

★ He was weak and needed the strength to keep the two of you safe since the two people took your weapons, so he needed blood—your blood.

★ He wouldn't admit it, too ashamed to do so, but your blood was like a tasteful, addictive drug to him.

★ One taste was enough to make him want more, but he would never do so without your consent.

★ Whether he ever drinks more of your blood, I'll let you all decide.1

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dollypopup · 8 hours

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People don't give Penelope enough props for the absolute BRAVERY it took in asking Colin for a kiss!!! I am tired of the rancid takes of 'oh, it makes her look pathetic-' no. Penelope asking for that kiss is VITAL in her growth, and pivotal to Polin's love story. Some flowers for Colin, first, for having put in years of work into their relationship so that Penelope trusts Colin to the point where she would even dare to ask it of him, but flowers to Penelope for asking. She trusts him and she's familiar with him and she KNOWS she's safe with him, and she took a leap of faith. So much of Penelope's arc is hiding what she wants and who she is, melding into the shadows, putting on a front. She doesn't confide in much of ANYONE. Not even Eloise knew about her love for Colin, or her existence as Lady Whistledown. Penelope keeps so much close to the chest.

Which makes it such an amazing moment when she opens up with Colin. When she reveals what she desires, and when he responds with 'If you want this, I'll give it to you'. So in that scene, when she's heartbroken and sad, after she has written of her own humiliation in Lady Whistledown to circulate amongst the ton, adding her own name to her list of bullies, when she thinks she is well and firmly on the shelf, and Colin comes to check on her, and he won't allow her to think badly of herself, and he even goes so far as to bribe her maid to have a moment with her, she opens her heart up enough to ask him for what she wants.

And that is beautiful. It deserves props and recognition. To ask for what we want as women is radical, and I'm frankly sick and tired of people thinking she's 'pathetic' for it. Penelope is brave in this scene. She is brave and vulnerable and Colin is there to tell her that is okay. That it should be rewarded. That he will catch her and he is there and she is right to trust him. He is the safety net as she tumbles and steps into the unknown.

Penelope Featherington looked the man that she loves in the eye, and she asked him to kiss her. How many of us would have the iron spine necessary for that? Sure, maybe she thinks she's hit rock bottom, but she could have swallowed her truth as she so often did. She chose not to. Penelope Featherington, who only ever voiced her opinions on a page, anonymously, stood before him with nothing to protect her heart, bare-faced, and told Colin Bridgerton she wanted him to kiss her. That she wanted to be loved.

And he did. He did and it was lovely. It was a fantastic kiss, and in that moment, you can tell that she *was* loved. Is loved. He held her like she was starlight, precious, delicately grasping her chin, brushing her cheek; he pecked her once and then went in for more. That kiss had desire and longing and tenderness in it. It was gentle and wholehearted. It was them learning each other, the both of them flaying away another layer for the other to keep. Penelope asked him for what she wanted and she got it. And it was ultimately the catalyst for all her desires to come to fruition.

I feel like we as women are told we must be passive so often: don't be too loud, don't ask them out, don't look 'desperate'. But fuck that: Penelope is an active participant in her love story. She asks Colin for what she wants and he provides it for her eagerly. That kiss made him realize that what he felt for her was far more than just friendship, and it started with 'Would you kiss me, Colin?' and ended with him outrunning HORSES to catch up with Penelope so he could, on his knees, profess how much he wants her and how he can't stop dreaming of their kiss. She toppled that first domino. May we all be so courageous. May we all be so bold. May we all be so loved.

Penelope put her own love story into motion with that kiss. We should fucking applaud her.

#polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #i will hear NO first kiss slander not a fucking iota of it

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obae-me · 3 days

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A Taste of His Own Medicine- Simeon

Guess who's back, back again, back with sick-fic posts again! Sorry that it's taken me a god-awful amount of time to post an update after my little teaser. Life often has a way of trying to ruin things, but I'll be damned if I don't manage to claw my way out of the depths to finish my works one inching crawl at a time! Anyways, I pray that this was worth the wait! Please, enjoy!

Peace. These last few days, the whole of the Devildom seemed to be experiencing a lull of sorts. Curses, vengeful items, creatures from another world, monsters, mania, and overall magical mayhem felt as if they were in hibernation. Or at least giving you a wide berth. Or perhaps the brothers were repaying your sympathies, beating back problems with several well-intentioned sticks. A much needed break in your opinion. The stars shone brighter, and you had never slept deeper. It was quite like being on vacation despite you still spending most of your time holed up in the House of Lamentation. Even the brothers appeared to be quarreling less than usual. You’d even be tempted to say they were getting along. Yes…there was nothing exactly like this feeling of peace. You continued to rub the towel against the back of your head and neck as you moved down the hall, feeling nice and refreshed after a calming shower. It was rather late into the evening. Dinner was over with and everyone in the House had mostly moved into their respective rooms to get ready for the night. The last week or so had been so normal and blissful, you had completely forgotten about the several ‘events that shall-not-be-named’; a cheap title coined by the brothers to stave off embarrassment. One which you gladly accepted to avoid the risk of superstitiously summoning more incidents. There was something about fine health that you had forgotten to feel grateful for. In fact, you were quite excited to have another moment where you could just jump straight into bed, kick back, and enjoy the silence of the night.

So, with a gentle push of your door, you waltzed happily inside your room.

“Ah, there you are.”

The random sound of another voice had your muscles all jolt. You clutched at non-existent pearls (the towel would have to serve as ample replacement) as you caught your breath. A white head of hair and a small blond one. Two members of a home different than yours. Not exactly undesirable faces, but definitely unexpected ones. They both were sitting on your bed, feeling right at home as they set up a movie on your television, already in pajamas. As you raised an eyebrow, your eyes wandered down to two packed day-bags.

“I… Welcome?” There was clear confusion in your voice as you addressed them. Not to be rude or anything, but this was…your room as so many people seemed to forget. Maybe you should look into getting a plaque for your door… Plus, it wasn’t quite like these two to just show up unannounced. Solomon maybe, but Luke? Did they forget to invite you to a sleepover? A late-night tea party perhaps? The other human was hard at work getting himself settled and relaxed. On the other hand, the angel was avoiding your gaze a little, acting more fidgety than normal. “You both are here…why exactly?” you couldn’t help but ask.

At your question, the two guests looked at each other for a moment, like they were trying to determine who would answer. Both of them were stubbornly staring into each other’s souls. With a little bit of irritation, you cleared your throat, glaring at the more grown of the bunch. The sorcerer glanced back up at you and conceded. A little shrug was followed by a more slumped position as he leaned back against your pillows and started the show. To others, he would’ve come off as unbothered, but luckily you had come to know him better than that. There was a subtle frustrated tone to his voice, his limbs a bit stiff like he didn’t want to be resting, and his eyes seemed to be unfocused. There was something on his mind that was upsetting him, so his actions were attempting to overcompensate for his worries. “Let’s just say that the Hall is a little bit…overtaken at the moment.”

With a shake of your head, you sighed. One side shuffle brought you to stand in front of the screen in an attempt to get him to look at you. “That doesn’t tell me much of anything.” Begrudgingly, the movie was paused.

Then the angel spoke up. Luke stuttered at first, but then managed to find his words. A pillow was held tightly in his lap as he clutched it for comfort. “It’s Simeon! He- He’s been cursed!”

Panic seemed to flood your body. Your eyes went wide and your jaw opened just enough to prepare yourself for demanding more information. Cursed? Was it dangerous? Was he in trouble? Why were they both just sitting around when you all could be helping?! Or was it so bad that they had to escape to safety? However, before you lost yourself to stress, Solomon raised a hand. “Not a curse.” He rubbed away an itch at the end of his nose with one finger. “At least, I’m fairly positive it’s not.”

Luke didn’t appear entirely convinced. “But he’s…” Before finishing his thought, he just went silent. It was clear he was very concerned for his guardian, but didn’t know how to go about fixing it.

“In my expert opinion,” the human continued, “I believe he’s simply not feeling well.” A bitter sensation crossed over your tongue. “I noticed he was acting strangely a few days ago, but any time I tried to pry information out of him, he turned me down. And quite cleverly turned my attention elsewhere, might I add.” Familiar actions started to leave an itch in your brain. A creeping sort of dread covered your skin. But, as soon as you started to notice these details, you shook your head, flinging them off of you. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling that way. Solomon continued to explain the situation. “And then he began to…how do I put this? Become rather obsessive.” He narrowed his eyes a little and glanced downwards, looking at nothing in particular. “I didn’t think anything of it at first…” All the sudden, he sighed, his playful mask falling and turning quite somber and serious. “Simeon’s always been caring, clean, and precise, but its been as if those traits have been kicked up to exuberant levels. It started with just some extra angelic doting- you know how he is-, and then just a few hours ago, Simeon took it upon himself to start tearing the entirety of Purgatory Hall apart to deep clean it.”

Luke made a sad sort of sound, one that broke your heart. “We tried to help so it would go faster and be easier, but he wouldn’t let us.”

“Stubbornness isn’t inherently a demonic or mortal trait, it would seem,” Solomon quipped. “I tried talking him into getting some rest, but he didn’t appear to hear me. And I was…dissuaded from casting any spells.”

Two little eyebrows scrunched up in irritation. “No using magic on Simeon! He always tells us that we shouldn’t force someone into doing what they don’t want to do!” But, even as Luke exclaimed it, he couldn’t help but let a bit of shuddering doubt slip into his voice.

“Well…” The immortal man appeared a bit guilty. “I just hope he doesn’t get himself into trouble trying to potentially clean my room…”

That dug in a different sort of fear… You glanced at the both of them and sighed, glancing out the window. Simeon… If he wasn’t feeling well, why was he trying to convince everyone otherwise? Well, the reason why didn’t particularly matter. If this was…him being sick, he needed rest. The angel probably knew that deep down, but maybe it had been too long since he put his needs above anyone else’s. You’d just have to remind him that self-care wasn’t inherently selfishness. Enough of your own self-pity! You had been given enough of a break. Besides, since when did you get the chance to take care of an angel, especially one so kind and lovely at that? Yes! You were back in business! “Alright!” you exclaimed a little too loudly, almost making your guests jump. “Leave him to me!”

Solomon processed your words before he smiled. “I knew we could count on you.” Cheeky little… So that was why they were here in your room and not over at the castle which had enough rooms to house a gala. Ah well, he could be lectured later.

“Try not to destroy my own room while I’m gone…”

“No promises!"

After a short jog- more like a speed walk- you were in front of Purgatory Hall. For some reason, you expected some sort of… cursed aura to spring from the place, but it stood as it normally did. Fingers crossed that the lack of one meant that Simeon had yet to get his hand on any of the myriad of dangerous items Solomon possessed. Hands tucked inside the pockets of your jacket, you approached the front door. Part of you wanted to immediately let yourself in, but you kept yourself restrained. Not only was knocking first good manners, but you also weren’t quite sure of the state Simeon was in. Hopefully an easier one than the brothers had been. Your knuckles drummed the door a few times. There was no answer. You attempted the doorbell next. Aside from the haunting ringing echoing inside, there was nothing… Normally, that would’ve been concerning, but if you tilted your ear near the door, you could clearly hear some ruckus inside. Sounded like the tooth-achingly familiar squeak of furniture being moved across the hardwood floors. Once more you knocked. “Hello? Simeon? Can you hear me?” The following silence spoke volumes. “I’m coming in then,” you warned, giving the angel a few more moments before opening the front door.

Stepping inside the entrance hall, you could feel floods of angelic magic filling the halls, along with the smell of several cleaning products and also…cookies? The sugary scent mingling with the chemically one made your stomach churn a bit. The sight was also rather overwhelming. When Solomon mentioned the Hall being torn apart, you thought perhaps he was being melodramatic. However, one glance from by the door suggested otherwise. Furniture was pushed from their spots and tipped over, paintings were pulled off of walls and laid out on the floor, blankets and towels and sheets and cloths and clothes were hanging to dry on wires that were strung back and forth in zig-zag patterns across the walls. No wonder Solomon and Luke absconded away.

“Simeon?” You called out again, ducking under some of the clothes as you pushed through the rest of the dorm. The sound of rather aggressive cleaning seemed to get louder as you approached the kitchen, the obnoxious noise of clanging silverware making you cringe.

The kitchen was in a rather right state. Cupboard doors thrown open, every single item pulled off the shelves, a worrisome teetering stack of dishes- that already looked clean, mind- piled in the sink. The room was much too bright, your eyes rapidly blinking as your brain mistakenly thought of sunlight. It took you longer than you’d like to admit to remember you were in the Devildom. The more you adjusted your focus, the more it became apparent that Simeon was the source of the radiance. It was hard to see him clearly, worried about the effects staring right at him would have on your vision. You walked further into the kitchen, stepping over several glistening feathers and loose parchment with scribbled works from his next project. Heat radiated out in all directions, feeling as if you were wading through a sauna.

Several times you called out to him, trying to announce your presence but not even getting a huff of acknowledgment from him. In fact, it seemed that he was completely oblivious to anything in general. The only thing he could do was flit about the room in a panicked state, his fingers raw from all the scrubbing and work he was doing. Some kind of stress response? “Simeon!” The voice that trembled its way from your throat was more frightened than you meant it to sound. But it couldn’t be helped. You had never seen Simeon quite like this before. Was it simply angelic duty intensified by a thousand? A cleanliness is next to godliness sort of deal? Or maybe he was too similar to Lucifer in the sense that he needed to fulfill some sense of obligation to feel ‘normal’. Who knew? It certainly didn’t matter in this moment. Your feet closed the distance between you two in seconds, leaping against him, arms tightening around the angel’s waist. Simeon’s body jolted as your forehead pressed against the skin of his exposed back. Much like the brothers when they had gotten sick, Simeon was much hotter than he should be. It nearly hurt you just to embrace him like this, quite like having your face much too close to an open flame. But you’d deal with it for just a little longer. “Please… Just stop for a moment.”

The hug seemed to put a screeching halt to his momentum. He’d probably been running on fumes for hours now, knowing that the moment he stopped was the moment he would collapse. Even now, his legs were shaking, his body working into overdrive just to keep himself steady. He wobbled and clutched onto one of the kitchen counters. The Celestial light in the room started to dim a little. “MC?…” Finally, he seemed to notice you. “I’m sorry…I didn’t hear you come in. S-Sit down…I’ll get you something to drink.” He attempted to shift in your grasp.

Your hold on him tightened, your fingers curling into the fabric of his warm clothes. You cleared your throat, trying to eliminate the earlier squeak in your voice. “You won’t be doing anything.” Even if you had felt like playing along, you had to wonder how he would do anything with the state the kitchen was in. It was all you could do to keep from imagining that giant pile of plates toppling down on top of him.

“I… Well, at least let me finish up in here. I don’t want to leave it like this for Solomon and Luke.”

Your eyes softened even though he wasn’t facing you. He really was out of it, wasn’t he? “They’re not here, Simeon.”

His back stiffened against you. “W-What?”

“They’re not here,” you reiterated, releasing your arms from around his sides and coming around to face him. Taking in his countenance sunk your heart. His well-kept hair was frazzled and flat, his skin dry, hands calloused. Ink and grime coated the inside of his fingernails. Typically, his eyes held a particular light in them, a small halo around his irises, but now that light was gone, dulled. “They came over to the House of Lamentation to tell me what was going on. They’re still there, worried for you…”

With that revealed to him, his face twisted into remorse. “They left? Because of me?… I didn’t mean…” A sigh left his chest as he stepped behind you, stuffing his hands into two oven mitts as he pulled a sheet of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind you. “I’ll at least go take these to them…” Even now he was still thinking about caring for others…

“Simeon.” With his name being called, he looked over his shoulder at you. You reached out and took both his wrists in your grasp, taking the mitts off his hands. After you put them on the counter- which was positively gleaming, by the by - you found yourself acting impulsively bold. Without thinking, your touch went to his cheeks, feeling the flush beneath his skin. You gently guided his head down to lean on your shoulder. You tilted your cheek to press against his temple, your palm tenderly resting on the back of his neck. For a moment, there was silence. A comfortable, knowing silence. “I know it might be rather shocking to discover, but those two can handle themselves. At least for a little while.” You managed to chuckle, but he didn’t seem to find it amusing. Or maybe he was simply feeling too miserable to muster any mirth. “Listen…don’t you start feeling guilty over stepping back from those responsibilities for a little while. Your worth isn’t measured by your output…if that makes sense…I’m not the best at impactful speeches. You understand where I’m getting at, don’t you? And you understand that I’m dragging you to bed regardless, right?”

Two arms wrapped around you and ran up your back. “You’re right…”

Despite the situation, you managed a big grin. “Yes, I am,” you chimed. “Let’s go now.” You took one of his hands firmly in yours, leading him through the labyrinth of his own making and towards his room. Unfortunately, his domain didn’t seem to escape the chaos. So, you sat him in a chair and worked to try to get things mostly in order. You pushed the bed-frame back up against the wall, plugged the side lamp back into the socket behind the nightstand, found the bedding hung up in the hallway, and even went so far as to fluff the pillows. When you proudly turned back towards the angel with your hands on your hips, you saw that while you were busy, he had discarded his shoes, cloak, and gloves.

Simeon pushed himself out of the chair and up on his feet, his hand curling around his forehead as he staggered towards the bed. You held out your arms precautiously. He practically flopped onto the mattress, his face temporarily buried into the comfort of a crisp cold pillow. It pained you to see him like this, and you had the sinking feeling that he was expending most of his efforts to hide as much of the sickness from you as he could. A few of your fingers worked on pushing some of the hair from his face. Even his locks were rather toasty. At the very least, he took in a nice deep breath. “Is it wrong…” he started, his voice drifting into a whisper, “…that I’m happy you’re here?”

Those words left you frozen for a while. You just stared down at him, resisting the urge to just hop into bed next to him and hold him next to you. “Why would it be wrong?”

“I…remember how tired you looked.” Your eyes went a little wide at his answer. “I remember thinking at the time how unfair it must’ve been for you. But then…when I first started feeling…under the weather…” His eyes glanced up at you, his arm twitching against his sheets like he had half a mind to reach out for you. “All I could think of was how nice it would be to have you here with me…”

Your lips parted as you went to speak, but no words came out. Guilt swirled in your soul a little. Had he really kept this all hush just for your sake? If that were the case though, he would’ve told the other members of Purgatory Hall, surely. He was partially right though, with the fact that it would do no one good if you wrung yourself dry trying to help someone else. Finally, you sat by his side in bed, pulling a cooled sheet over his body and rubbing his taut shoulders. “I did seem to go a little overboard in the care-taking aspect when the brothers all turned ill, you’re right… But, you can rest assured that I won’t push myself too hard by taking care of you… After all, you wouldn’t let me do such a thing, would you?” His expression seemed to brighten, taking hold of your hand and pressing it against his own face as he shook his head. “And don’t you worry. Tomorrow I’ll be summoning Solomon and Luke back home to help put the Hall back in one piece. So for now,” you leaned forward and embraced him, nearly cradling his head against your body, “rest, and prepare to be fully cared for just as you deserve.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc

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hansolen · 5 hours

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sunlight blooms within the crevices of my soul. (it burns a little, but i still love you.)

꩜ pairing ⇾ aventurine x gn reader

꩜ word count ⇾ 2k

꩜ author’s note ⇾ i don’t know what happened here lol this guy has been rotting my brain for the past 4 months and suddenly i combusted and decided to write something for him <3

when you first met aventurine it felt like you were gazing at the sun itself. he was flamboyant, bright and unafraid to be the centre of a show. or at least that’s how he tried to present himself as.

his presence was magnetic, it drew you in relentlessly. you wondered if this was how pirates felt — when sirens lured them into the depths of the ocean with their melodious voices. aventurine was akin to a siren. he was alluring, unreal and dubious. almost otherworldly in the sense that there was always a distance between the two of you. one you couldn’t exactly point out, but the feeling always lingered. even with his arm around your waist, pulling you in — it felt like he was worlds away. despite how you both were just centimetres apart.

to you, aventurine is the sun. and if there is one thing you know about the sun, it’s that you should never stare at its light for too long. else it starts to blind you. however when it comes to aventurine, you can’t help but look. you gravitate towards him like a moth does to a flame.

afterall, you were someone who was locked into the shadows for too long. someone who had gazed at the sun for the first time in ages, admiring his light from a distance. what you hadn’t expected was for the sun to gaze right back at you. with those mesmerising eyes of his, aventurine looked through your soul with the same intensity as you looked through his.

that’s where it felt scary, you think. the realisation that his gaze alone brought out certain parts of you to light. parts you didn’t even remember existed — the kinder, sweeter bits of you. yet, just how there’s a duality between light and dark, and how one cannot exist without the other, the darker parts of you also emerged. the more murky and broken pieces of you — wherein you desired him carnally. yearning for his touch, his warmth.

that’s the thing about aventurine, his presence is warm — in an addictive way. the kind where once you’ve had a sip, you just can’t seem to get enough. nothing quenches your thirst quite like his affection. this ache for him, you kept it all in the dark for a reason, for self preservation. yet when it comes to him, you can’t help but succumb to these desires. you can’t help but lean onto him.

another fact about the sun is that it is all encompassing. get too near and you will burn. it is inevitable. you wonder if that too is a form of self preservation. his form of sustenance. rays of light that pierce so harshly, people can’t help but look away. perhaps there is a reason why he tries to shine so brightly, so that no one stares too long, lest they see what he actually is. what he is hiding. the ugly parts of the sun, his blemishes, his lack. him.

aventurine was resting with his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. a small moment of intimacy shared between the two of you. unspoken words laced within the strings of silence that hung over the two of you.

he often left you confused with his conflicting actions. when it came to all matters related to you — he was greedy, yet distant. whenever you both got too close and you brought him to put down a mask of his (among his many), he always ended up leaving you for days at a time. it hurts, it always does.

to him it’s scary. scary how you make him crumble with such ease. he can’t let you. so he won’t meet you for days, weeks even. you are left on your own and it feels as though your light has been snatched. that’s what truly terrifies you. the possibility that one day he might truly leave, and you won’t be able to stop him. (little do you know he feels the same. he isn’t the idealised version you think of him. he is no Sun. he is just a dying star.)

aventurine is used to hurting himself, used to putting his life on the line, on bets and games of chance. but that never meant that he wanted to hurt you in the process. in all honesty, he is afraid. just as you think of him as the sun, he thinks of himself as a shell. he has many facets in this mask of his, filled with what others wish to see him as, want him to be. he often thinks of them as characters to play in a script. he is so used to living in this facade he has created that he no longer feels in touch with the ’self’ under his myriad of masks.

he doesn’t like how he hurts you. yet he can’t help but be thankful that you still take him in despite it all. in some dreadful way he is glad. glad that you always forgive him. that you want him just as much. it is both scary yet comforting that someone craves him, too.

what he doesn’t know is that you want to be led to him. not just in the light touches or small moments of intimacy. no. you want him. you want him to eat you whole and form you anew. it doesn’t matter if you get burnt in the process, doesn’t matter if at the end of the day he is but a dying star.

you wish for him to know that it is alright for you to come too close and end up seeing him for what he actually is. that you know he really isn’t all that shiny, and he isn’t all that warm either. he is cold and he is dying. he is a dying star.

you too, are afraid. afraid of being left alone in pitch black darkness once more. afraid of the sun no longer letting you bask in the essence of his warm rays. the ones that you had made yourself all too familiar with — to a fault.

you know all stars die one day. and the sun too, is but a star. you wish for him to know that you wouldn’t blame him if he cracks. you wouldn’t leave him. you love him and you will stay. even if he consumes you in the process.

he doesn’t know that you are but a defenceless sailor. giving yourself — whole, to the siren. doesn’t matter if you are being hypnotised by him. by his voracious light. by his enigmatic eyes. by him.

he’s like a ray of sunlight. with the way how you feel his warmth reach the most intimate parts of your soul, but as soon as you reach out to touch him – he disappears. as if he was never there to begin with. yet his warmth lingers.

so you do what you can. you numb yourself. you try not to lean into his comforting touch. try to to revel in his presence. you try, you really do. to put up the curtains so that the sunlight can no longer enter. but one thing about the sun is, it is insatiable, and so is aventurine.

he finds a way. mere curtains are never enough to push the light aside. if he wishes to, he will have you whole. he will engulf you into his light. and you — you let him. you allow him make you one with the sun. let him swallow you whole. maybe it's true — if he was the sun, then you were Icarus.

the sun is calling you in and you can’t help but reach for it. you fly towards him despite how it sets your skin ablaze. even with your wings melting, the feeling of hot wax burning you as it dribbles down your skin. as the heat rips your insides out. you can’t help but let it. because you know that no one has flown higher. no one else has reached this close to the sun him.

you close your eyes as you fall. you let him in. and in return he lets you stay. as you fall, you brace yourself for the impact of the cold harsh earth. it never comes. you end up being pulled into the depths of the ocean instead.

#𓇚 kalopsia #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine imagines #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #🏹 acara writes

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thesunloveschips · 3 days

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 11: Through the Mating Bond

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

Chapter Summary: While Morrigan manages to distract Nyra from her distress, Azriel's desires and insecurities clash. And dinner has yet to be served.

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual activity and Azriel's traumatic past.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

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Azriel's POV

Azriel sighed in relief when the Archeron twins walked in for dinner. Both of them were wearing dark blue gowns. The gold in her hair gleamed under the warm light. And with all the strength of the warrior he had honed himself to become, he restrained his gaze from moving all over her body no matter how exquisite she was. He decided her eyes were a good place to settle his gaze but he took in all of her face.

The faelights draped over her like a transparent curtain. Her eyes—those lovely blues had been draped by a golden hue. The edges of her irises darkened and like the quiet sea at sunset, they waited for the moon to eventually rise and command the tides. The mole on the right side of her face right where her cheekbone was. Lips glossed lightly and he looked again into those eyes, wishing they would look at him.

Azriel felt her confusion through the bond. He tightened the grip on his glass, knowing how much he wanted to go over there and embrace her. To see the seas in her eyes and tell her that it was going to be fine. But the shadows were already reprimanding him. She is confused. Pained.

This was wrong. He’d only wanted to meet his mate because Maia had died too young. Azriel remembered the girl who’d been born as Rhysand’s sister. After the Lady of the Night Court had given birth to her daughter, it was Azriel who had first held her. The High Lord of Night had been disappointed at the birth of a female–a feeling that evolved to awkwardness and indifference as the girl grew up.

With Morrigan to groom her into a lady befitting of her lineage, Cassian to become more of an older brother than Rhys since the latter had unknowingly become a father to his sister in the absence of the High Lord, and Azriel as her guardian from the shadows, Maia grew. And yet, her life had ended brutally, just two months shy of seventeen.

Nyra was that girl. But she was not. Maia was a child. Nyra was an adult. And he knew that despite sharing the same soul, Maia and Nyra were completely different people. One was a girl he’d watched over as a good friend. The other was a… Cauldron fuck him, how should he even think about this female? She was glowing and healthy and beautiful and so fucking endearing as she looked at him when he’d mentioned chocolate cake.

Wasn’t it wrong to be attracted to her?

He’d waited for her only to give her the life she deserved to live as Maia. There were no romantic intentions even though he’d been thoroughly uninterested in pursuing females for the past five hundred years for love. For so long, he’d thought about Maia and how he’d take her reincarnated person to see the world and eat different cuisines, and meet different people and learn so many new things.

He had accepted that Maia would be reborn with a different face, would belong to a different race, could even be a male and whatever affections he’d had for her as a good friend would continue. He imagined a faceless figure whenever he thought about Maia’s new form and now that there was a face to fill that blank space, his thoughts had begun spiralling.

Azriel wanted to give her freedom and resources to utilise that freedom and he’d collected so much. So much money and books. He’d made a list of all the places to visit and planned out so much so that Maia wouldn’t miss anything. And he’d imagined that her happiness would make him content and he’d watch from the sidelines. But now, he wanted to be a participant. He wanted to make her happy and provide for her. And this female, so lost and confused—he wanted to be reliable for her.

And none of his shadows were in favour of his original plan to simply be friends with whoever Maia would reincarnate as and watch them be happy. They wanted him to be involved, wanted him to court Nyra, tell her how indescribably beautiful she was and to tell her about the mating bond. They wanted him to be hers. And gods help him because his thoughts and desires were starting to take that route.

Azriel knew that despite his hesitations, he would succumb. He would want to be hers truly because this was Nyra. And from all that he knew about Nyra Archeron, there would never be anyone who wouldn’t want to be hers unless they were fools. To be her sister, her friend, her brother, her daughter, her son, her mother, her father—to have any sort of connection to her was a blessing. And he knew that it was only a matter of days before he would, without hesitation, want to be her mate in the truest sense of the word. To be her partner, her husband, her companion, her lover. To be able to touch her and kiss her and hold her. To make love to her.

And fuck him but she looked so extraordinarily adorable despite her distress. Through the bond, he felt her annoyance at the doubts that seemed to pop up constantly but were never clarified. Her eyes scanned everything and everyone. And the shadows swarmed over to her, stopping a few feet away, waiting for her permission. She watched them and Azriel felt her as she recognised them. The storm within her calmed a little as the shadows wrapped themselves around her extended hand and the rest of them settled down on her skirts.

Azriel heard her breathing and her heart rate return to normal. She continued to look at the shadows as they snaked around her fingers and palm and wrist. Her features softened and then she looked up and found him. His breath hitched as she tilted her head to the side and Azriel felt a small smile make its way on his face. Through the string, he felt her surprise and watched her nod to him. He raised his glass to take a sip.

It surprised him, how much he could feel through the bond. Nyra felt so much with such depth to the point where he'd suspected that she would dissect her feelings into parts and peer into them just to ensure that there was no confusion. However that clarity seemed to be absent as she looked at Feyre with a lack of recognition and consequently, a growing sense of guilt. It was a seed and it was starting to germinate.

The shadowsinger stood straight as he watched the Morrigan waltz over to the twins, knowing how meddlesome the female could be. "Where did those come from?" Mor's voice brought out her surprise and awe as she began closely inspecting the gowns and their fabric. "I want one too."

The shadowsinger felt his mate’s confusion and guilt be destroyed before it could sprout. Nyra's examining eyes were now trained on Mor as the blonde female took the fabric of her skirt and examined it. Mor thoroughly inspected the dress and the design and was even more impressed. Midnight blue silk with gently flowing skirts and a bodice that subtly brought their figures to notice. While Nesta opted for one with a collar neckline, Nyra's gown had a square neckline which revealed all the skin he suddenly wanted to claim with his mouth.

The mere idea of touching her brought with it the onslaught of memories. And all of a sudden, Azriel was a boy, weeping as his hands were burned, howling for his mother. It had rained that day in response. He remembered the voice he had heard from that day onwards. What it said. How he felt after hearing it. The voice had disappeared after he'd been thrown into Windhaven and the only proof of it was etched on his back, cleverly concealed by his shadows. But the way his hands hurt for weeks came back to him. The memory of pain began to take over and Azriel immediately set his glass aside and moved his hands behind him. He clenched it again and again.

Those days are gone. And now, she's here. Mate. Mistress. Ours. The shadows whispered more and more about how the bad days were gone and how Nyra was the beginning of something good. But now, he was transported back to when he had killed someone for the first time. Some irrelevant person who'd called his mother a whore for birthing a bastard like him. He'd travelled through the shadows for the first time and killed the foulmouthed asshole within the next five seconds. Azriel was twelve. The faces of all other people and many faceless people from the distant past he'd killed and tortured and killed flashed by. And the blood in his hands was a constant.

Scarred hands, bloodied and wielding the Truth Teller and other weapons. This was who he was. And Azriel dared to glance at Nyra's hands. Slender and so much smaller than his own.

Untainted.

Unlike his own.

He had no right to be her mate. Azriel did not know the exact moment he had placed her on a pedestal. She sat above everything and he was beneath it all, not even worthy to be a stone that would lie in her path. To think of touching her was blasphemous, the act itself a sacrilege. It should never happen. It could never happen, no matter how violently he’d started to desire it.

But even when he’d begun to label the act of touching Nyra as something forbidden, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

"It's a good thing we're not the same size or else I might be tempted to steal your dresses." Mor smiled coyly. Pretending had to take a pause. He looked in their direction to see Mor's smirk aimed at him. And Azriel looked away as all the decency of thoughts that he had somehow managed to bring about evaporated without a second's notice. Feyre. Looking here. No. He had to stop thinking about touching her. Someone as undeserving as him could never have any right to even request such a thing.

"Likely right off them." Cassian's remark was an unhelpful one. Mor's smirk widened, bordering on mischief and desire. And no matter how much Azriel tried to distract himself from looking at Nyra, even thinking of her, the bond did not let him. And neither did the shadows. He felt her confusion take a back seat as Mor's contagious smile began affecting her. She was remembering the time when she had teased Azriel and Cassian about fucking in the forests outside the Archeron estate. An adventurous tumble, she called it. And then there was Cassian, going along with it and extending an invitation to join them.

Azriel felt like his salivary glands were working too well at that moment. The thought of Nyra between him and Cassian, all of them nude, brought about another moment of desire before he felt someone pinch his neck.

"Control yourself. You're not an adolescent." Cassian whispered to him. "You can get through dinner, right?"

Azriel had to truly contemplate that. The female had been here for not more than twenty minutes and he had already felt so much. Admiration for her beauty, concern for her distress, amusement at how endearing she was, a trip down the lane of traumatic memories, arousal. And all of it was his own feelings. He could also feel her through the bond and that was an entirely different category.

"I hope so." Azriel stole another glance at the sisters. Nesta looked rather unimpressed by what Mor said and Nyra was looking at Feyre who was smiling at her older sister. And he felt her helplessness at not being able to smile back.

Nyra's confusion was a wound that seemed to be getting infected. Azriel realised that she seemed to no longer recognise the person Feyre had turned into and that was hurting her. The guilt of not being able to identify this woman as the girl she raised in the neglect of their mother.

The way Nyra seemed to feel like Feyre was no longer her sister or even an Archeron was all too palpable for him. Did she feel like the Inner Circle had stolen Feyre from the Archeron family? Azriel did not know and Nyra looked at Mor again, trying to forget what she had just felt. All while the youngest Archeron smiled oblivious to her sister's inner turmoil. What was that bit about her mother? Azriel was curious and he stored that information away for future references.

"Fortunately for you, I don't return the sentiment." Nesta did not bother looking at Morrigan for the fear of her power and claimed a seat. Azriel coughed. His own surprise slammed into him as Mor took Nyra's hands in her own, the shadows on his mate's hand retreating just enough to avoid any contact with Mor's skin.

Azriel focused on their mating bond, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Once he had decreed himself to have calmed down significantly, he tried to remember what it was when he met Nyra for the first time. The state of his mind when he met the woman who had rushed to greet her youngest sister after so long. The conversations. A female like no other. Truly incomparable. And the peace he felt, he pushed towards the bond. He saw her shoulders relax and how she had begun calming down.

Nyra looked at Mor who smiled brightly at her. "Do you? Return the sentiment, I mean."

"May I take off your dress?" Nyra looked at her, eyebrows raised. Azriel stopped himself from taking a sip of his whiskey lest he spit it out or choke on it.

To take off that dress. Removing the straps resting on her shoulder. Unzipping it from the back to reveal more skin. Warm and golden under the faelights. To move behind her. Kiss her ear, her neck. Removing those silver combs that let her curls remain in a bun and to watch them drop down. Gather her hair in his hand to push them to her front. To let his mouth descend and taste her back. Pulling that dress down as he got on his knees behind her.

Talons knocked at the doors of Azriel's mental fortress, pulling him out of his fantasy. Control your scent, brother. Rhysand's voice came as a warning. He had to control his scent, desires and his aroused state. This was not the time or place for his mind to go wild and start fantasising about... Moving on.

"Why would you want to do that?" Nyra asked, genuinely brightening up due to the mischief Mor had started cooking. Azriel felt like he had sinned with his filthy fantasies about this adorable darling of a female who was his mate. Why was she so... everything? He picked up his glass of whiskey and drank a good amount of it.

"Your dress is beautiful." Mor trailed a finger from Nyra's temple and pushed a strand behind her ear. Nyra controlled her shivers but the shadows told him how sensitive she felt her ears were. He really wanted to test that. With a lick to her earlobe before he took it between his teeth for a soft nibble. No, he could never touch her. "And so are you."

At this point, Azriel remembered how the conversation between the brothers and the Bone Carver was supposed to be a secret. The three Illyrians had bargained over that and three stars were subsequently tattooed on their bodies as evidence. No one would know until the three of them decided unanimously to tell them. And that was how Feyre came to know. Amren suspected something but did not pry.

Mor did not know anything at all. Nothing about the possibility that the female standing in front of her was once her cousin. Very distant cousin but that was beside the point. And Azriel, who knew it, felt the bile rise at the back of his throat at the potentially incestuous interaction taking place... No. It was important to remember that this female was Nyra and not Maia. Even though they shared the same soul, the person was different.

"I will ask you if I require assistance in removing this. Will that be fine?" Nyra did not really consider what reaction her reply would evoke but the surprise in Morrigan's face was rather amusing. Mor's brown eyes widened and she swallowed. It was fun, Nyra decided. Azriel could not help his smile but he did hide it behind his glass of whiskey. And just when he thought he could finally have a moment of peace, Nyra spoke. "Your reaction is rather interesting. What is going on inside that pretty head of yours?"

Mor blinked, not expecting such a response. In fact, none of them had. It was the sort of thing they'd either heard or spoken while flirting with females and males. Oh fuck, she was starting to get into this. Azriel watched them, wondering whether he should be jealous of Mor. The red of the Truth Speaker's dress and wine seemed to seep into her cheeks. "What?" That was the only intelligent reply the blonde female managed.

"What?" Nyra repeated and looked at the blonde female with raised eyebrows and a mischievous look. She then released her hands from hers, took a step back, turned towards the seat with a gentle twirl of her skirts, pulled the chair next to her twin's back. She moved to sit down and adjust the chair according to her. Azriel felt the delight coursing through Nyra. Thank gods, all her distress seemed to vanish for the night.

Azriel did not understand how this female who had panicked like she had witnessed the end of the world was now standing and making such light hearted conversation. It was a strength, he recognised. Something he'd seen in every member of his unconventional family from time to time. To be confronted with the worst and then having to pretend as though nothing had happened. And Nyra was having fun teasing Mor.

A faint blush covered the blonde female's cheeks at the implication of Nyra's words. And for the first time, she saw Nyra for the striking beauty she was. Mor's gaze travelled from Nyra's face to her neck and so did Azriel's. Under the golden lights that brought out the colour of the Archeron sisters' hair, Nyra's hair glowed faintly on one side of her neck while the other side remained exposed. Cassian pinched Azriel's ear and that brought him out of his trance. The shadowsinger glared at his brother only for them to look towards the dining table when Nesta cleared her throat rather loudly.

"Well... I..." Mor fumbled, clearly not used to being the one to blush during flirtations.

"That's what I thought." Nyra raised an eyebrow. The teasing look was a new one for all of them. The shadows twirling around her fingers and palms cried out in joy, dancing at Nyra's good mood. Mor grinned broadly and shot him a cheeky wink before claiming her seat opposite Nyra. Cassian let out a snort and Azriel jabbed him with his elbow at the ribs before moving to claim his seat at the dining table.

The shadowsinger sat next to Mor, not opposite to Nyra but not too far away that he couldn't see her properly. From this angle, he could see if she was eating properly and if she got a chance to taste every dish. And if she liked any, he could keep a note and ensure she got more servings. Cassian had left momentarily to raid the wine collection and returned with a few bottles cuddled to his chest. Wine, Azriel would consume as easily as breathing. At this point, he'd need something stronger than whiskey even.

****

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