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readsaboutreid · 5 days

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Everything To Me

summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.

this is 100% season 1 spencer

warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort

“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.

“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"

"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.

"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.

“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."

(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.

"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.

"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.

Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.

Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.

With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.

"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"

Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.

As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.

Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest

as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.

"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."

Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?

Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.

As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”

As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.

"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."

Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.

As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."

(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.

They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.

As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”

(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.

Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.

As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.

Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.

After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"

(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."

Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.

As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."

(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.

The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.

Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"

"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.

Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.

Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.

After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.

With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.

As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.

The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.

Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.

The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.

She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.

(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.

Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.

"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.

As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.

"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.

As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.

(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.

As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.

"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."

As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.

Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.

As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.

Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."

(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.

Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.

As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.

After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.

The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.

Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.

With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.

As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.

"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"

Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.

As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.

Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.

As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.

"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.

Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."

They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.

The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.

As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.

As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.

But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.

As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.

"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."

Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.

After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.

The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.

Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.

"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.

As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.

As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.

They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”

“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.

“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.

Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?

But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.

Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.

"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.

(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #light angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic

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leqonsluv3r · 20 days

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valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

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venuzasmuse · 1 month

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I WISH YOU WERE A BOY [bestfriend!ellie]

(id love to credit whoever made this divider but irdk who did i’m sorry 😭😭)

warnings: (not proofread i wrote this in like 15 mins lol) ANGST ANGST ANGST, hints at religious trauma, religious parents, internalized homophobia if you squint

author’s note: i wrote this based off of a situationship i had 😭 def not projecting…… also y’all should totally listen to keep on loving you by cigarettes after sex (i listened to it while writing this so hopefully it’ll set the tone)

best friend!ellie who you met for the first time in your sophmore year of highschool. you had just transferred to a small all girls catholic high school in the outskirts of austin, texas having had just moved states. you were quiet and completely out of ellie’s extroverted vicinity of a personality. yet, they say opposites attract and you two were pulled together like magnets.

best friend!ellie who taught you the ropes of everything you knew. from your music taste down to the smallest complimentary accessories you infiltrated into your style. you were completely immersed with love for her that it nearly swallowed you whole. anyone you ever met would have to know her to truly understand you. y’all were just that close.

best friend!ellie who comforted you the first time you got your heart broken by some stupid boy you met at a football game. he began to pursue you and practically begged to take you out. “be ready at 7” he proposed with boyish charm and you couldn’t help but to be swooned, as any naïve teenage girl would. yet 8 rolled around the corner, and the only thing sweeping you off your feet was the feeling of rain droplets beating down on your hair and a pit of embarrassment that coiled in your stomach as you stood in a pretty white dress on the corner of a cafe. the only person to show up for you was ellie who was at your beck and call whenever you needed her.

best friend!ellie who sat with you in her car for nearly 30 minutes as the rain beat down on her windowsills. she wiped away at the mascara mixed tears on your cheek and an unfamiliar feeling began to unravel in your gut as she went on a rant about how perfect you were and how you didn’t need the guy whose name you couldn’t even seem to recall anymore.

best friend!ellie who was the only girl you realized made you feel this way and it scared you. you always knew you weren’t completely straight but this set everything in stone for you. yet, admitting it out loud was the last thing you wanted to do. it would only make the situation all the more real to you and you didn’t know how much of that you could handle.

best friend!ellie who made your stomach churn every single time she’d bring up another girl romantically in front of you. she’d ramble about some girl she was talking to and you couldn’t do anything but suck it up and pretend like you were happy for her but deep down you hated it. all of it. all you wanted to do was bury yourself in the grave you dug because you didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. ellie williams was the only person who had enough of you to completely tear you apart.

best friend!ellie who read your body language better than anyone else. your parents were spewing unsolicited comments about some taboo magazine about a same-sex couple one day while she was at your house. her head was rested atop your leg as you tried to drown out your parent’s conversation. your gaze fell on her and you smiled apologetically wanting to block out the rest of the world in that moment.

best friend!ellie who you smoked your first joint with as y’all snuck out of your parent’s house and to a nearby park across town. giggling and low eyed, y’all talked about the stupidest things as y’all shared a pair of cheap earbuds. the moon gleamed brighter than it usually did that night and cigarettes after sex blared through the earbuds lodged in your ears as you realize then you were in love with ellie williams.

best friend!ellie who laughed and asked why you were staring at her that way. “i wish you were a boy.” you said without thinking. maybe it was the way the light reflected off her freckled face or the way the drug coursed through your system, but the words slipped faster out your mouth before your brain could process them. her brows furrow and green eyes dance over you features searching for any type of emotion that emitted from your expression. “what?”

best friend!ellie who kept trying to get in touch with you ever since that night. you were relentlessly drowning yourself in shame and embarrassment. the remembrance of what you said made you feel foolish. but no amount shame can mask the guilt you felt every time you remembered the way ellie’s face fell as soon as you said what you did. you couldn’t say anything else after. all you did was brush it off and insist y’all go back home. the walk back was silent and tension brewed between the proximity of the two of you.

best friend!ellie who called you again at 11 pm in attempt to talk about that night. you were about to decline it but your guilt ate away at you. you agreed to meet her on your porch to talk. you planned on apologizing for both saying what you did and avoiding it. “i didn’t mean it. i was just high.” the excuse played on a loop inside your head. you were set on just leaving the situation and your feelings for her in a puddle of voided nothingness but closure didn’t come easy for you when she was actually in front of you now.

best friend!ellie who sat patiently outside your house. she was clad in a black sweatshirt, washed out blue jeans, and the same dirty converses she wore daily. she spared you a familiar smile as you sat down next to her trading her one as well.

best friend!ellie who watched as you began to fumble over your explanation in a panic. “i don’t know why i said that. god, i’m so stupid i’m so sorry.” you sniffled and gentle hands pulled you into a soft hug. for the first time in a week, you let yourself fall apart in her embrace and somehow, everything you thought you felt began to disperse. it was in that moment, that you accepted you would’ve loved her either way. whether she was a boy or a girl. it didn’t matter to you as long as you got the same soul in whatever body she was in. pulling away from her arms, your hand snakes over the nape of her neck as you press a kiss on her lips and she returns the energy reverently.

#don’t fall for straight girls like me guys 😞🤞#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #the last of us #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #kinda sad #SoundCloud

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 1 month

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AND THE OSCAR GOES TO …

Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Warnings - No warning, the disgust!!! Fluff with a side of angst, I’m shocked… cheesy as

Word count - 2.4+

The day had been exhausting. Cillian, who expresses the importance of sleep, was unable to keep his eyes shut last night in the luxurious king size bed. Usually the award shows were just a part of the job, never taken as seriously as working on the project. But this was different, he had never experienced the honor of such recognition by the industry he adored. Everyone was hyping him up and secretly it terrified him even though he acted unphased.

Humble, was the word you’d use to describe Cillian. The most modest man in Hollywood, never believing that his work is exemplary. Always reflecting on what else he could have done to be better. It was a guilty desire, to want to win it. He had already won all of the other major awards, but what if he managed to fall short to this?

Likewise to him, you remained awake. Merely embracing him as you two laid in silence. You kept him at bay, he wondered what he did to deserve you. Feared the embarrassment of what you’d think of him if he didn’t win this last one.

He threw up in the morning. It was all getting to his head. These were the parts he hated most about this job. The expectation on his back now. All eyes were going to be on him tonight. Not to mention the reporters. At all of the award shows they tended to ask insensitive questions about your relationship.

Your relationship with Cillian was certainly controversial. Age gaps always were. Neither of you ever intended to fall in love, but denying that spark of attraction felt like a major crime.

At first, you both tried to make yourselves believe it to just be casual. To merely get those urges out of your system. Neither one of you intended on making the encounter romantic or innermost with each other. However, by the third date, it came to light in your senses that this was real.

The dating stage was a rollercoaster of emotions. Filled to the rim with doubts of if you both would be able to make it work. Yeah, you’ve dated some real questionable guys. But a 20 year age difference was never a bridge you expected to cross. Despite the hesitance of this intangible factor, you two just couldn’t view a future without one another anymore.

Slowly, you both tackled your insecurities of becoming public to your loved ones. The hardest were your parents, even though there was still a bit of an age gap, Cillian was closer to their age than yours and it was a judgment they couldn’t avoid. It took some time, but as they watched your eyes blossom at the sight of him they knew it was real.

The public would never know how you brought Cillian out of his despair. A man of privacy he was, hardly anyone knew how toxic his first marriage was. How bad his mind had become after years of trying over something that was long dead cold. With how he had given up hope on ever feeling loved by another again. Most days he felt like a man trying to find a pin in a haystack.

Dating Cillian taught you the value of privacy and wellbeing. Behind the closed doors, your relationship was paradise. You had never experienced a relationship that wasn’t followed by the media. It was all that you had ever known. But this, being able to focus on him and not on how the world perceived your relationship had changed your whole perspective.

When the news broke that not only were you dating Cillian Murphy, but pregnant, the backlash was astounding. However, you both had the approval and support from your inner circles and that was all that mattered. You had a shotgun wedding in Ireland with a small number of attendees. It was the greatest day of your life until you gave birth to your daughter, Aisling.

He looked so charming as you watched him dress in the hotel room. He was laughing nervously a lot, trying to talk about things other than the ceremony.

You didn’t blame his distress. Years ago you were in the same affair. It was your hardest role and greatest accomplishment. Portraying a woman at her lowest point in a society that she felt she didn’t belong. By the end of production, a part of you felt like you were her. When you were nominated for Best Actress, you were filled with gratitude and honor. But also couldn’t help but to think at the back of your head if you really deserved this. A part of you didn’t feel worthy to be running with your fellow nominees. The anxiety rose inside of you everytime someone asked what would you do if you won?

But, when the presenter announced your name, the wave of acceptance consumed you deep into the ocean. Everything you had ever done had led to that moment. There was no need for you to secretly bring yourself down. You have pushed your mind, body and soul for this project. The gratitude had overwhelmed you as you accepted this recognition.

Watching him on the red carpet, you could see right through him. The illusion of confidence mixed with the gratitude of accolades. He wanted the night to be done with, there was nothing more that he wanted to do besides be at home with you and Aisling. It was the first time Cillian had attended the grand event and you observed him look around in awe in the ceremony room. The whole time you had held onto his hand tightly as the big four without hurry finally rolled over.

“And the Oscar goes to…” Brendan Fraser paused as he opened the envelope.

Time froze over, your iron grip on Cillian’s hand as you stared immensely. There was this clock ticking in your head. Your emotions were masked as Cillian had a stern expression. You could sense how anxious he was with being in the running for the greatest honor.

Despite the distance, you ever so clearly saw the look that lit in Brendan’s eyes and knew immediately. His gaze looked up to Cillian as he announced his name to the world. A radiant smile grew on Cillian’s lips as the audience started cheering for him.

He acknowledged you promptly, his blue eyes soft as he leant in to kiss you. After a small exhale of relief, you wrapped your arms around his body and kissed him passionately. His forehead pressed against yours for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. The noise drained out and you both forgot where you were. It was just the two of you. When Cillian opened his eyes again, his gaze was met with your undying smile of bliss.

The track for Oppenheimer was playing as Cillian slowly let you go and embraced his fellow cast members You were clapping your hands together uncontrollably, your eyes welled with tears of joy as you watched Cillian make the short journey to the stage.

Emily embraced you, you exhaled heavily against her as you were still feeling the overwhelming sensation against your skin. It was all too much to take in, you could see his photo up on all of the screens, the cheers were running down to your ear drums. It felt like deja vu from years ago when you were in the exact same spot.

He shook all of the presenters' hands. Sharing a few words with each of them individually. The audience were still on their feet as Cillian looked down to the golden prize in his hold, his mouth dry as he struggled to think of what to say.

The crowd was standing in awe for him. Cillian laughed nervously, his expression overwhelmed and shocked at what was occurring. He has never even dreamt of this moment, never believing he’d be able to make it. His hand trailed over jaw as his eyes took in everything. He waited for the audience to silence themselves but realized that they wouldn’t be doing it on their own any time soon.

“Um, I’m a little overwhelmed. Thank you to the Academy” Cillian started, his eyes roaming over the room. The crowd came to silence. “Um, Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas, it's been the wildest, most exhilarating, most creatively satisfying journey you’ve taken me on over the last 20 years. I owe you more than I can say. Thank you so much” Cillian expressed his gratitude to them. His mentors, the people that trusted him dearly with many of their successes.

There was such little time. Shockingly, Cillian hadn’t prepared himself for this moment, despite everyone telling him that even though the competition was scintillating, the Oscar already had his name written on it. Of course he had summed up a few words to say, people to recognise. But the shock had drowned his thoughts.

“Every single crew member, every single cast member on Oppenheimer. You guys carried me through. All of my fellow nominees, I remain in awe of you guys, truly” Cillian acknowledged, his eyes darting around the room to look for his fellow nominees.

He truly was in admiration of them. The pair of you had watched all of the nominated films and Cillian couldn’t help to be even in applause of them, but also intimidated by them as award season had rolled over.

“I wanna thank my incredible team. Ah, big shout out to Craig Bankie!” Cillian grinned. “Brendan Murphy- Brendan Murphy, Mary Murphy. Who are currently taking care of my baby girl back in Ireland. Aisling, my darling, daddy loves you so much” He smiled purely into the camera.

There was a pause as he blinked heavily. His gaze found its way back to you so lovingly. CIllian stared at you in awe. Even though you were at a distance from each other, he could see you so perfectly. His perfect woman, wife, lover.

“Oh” he breathed out, tilting his head up the slightest bit. “And there’s a woman” he professed as he closed his eyes dramatically, taking in all of the emotions he was feeling.

Some of the crowd couldn’t resist screaming out in excitement. Your hand pressed against your mouth as you slowly shook your head in disbelief.

“Yeah” he said to himself as he nodded his head, eyes still shut. “A woman. Who I love” Cillian vowed, his eyes finding you once more. Cillian breathed out your name as he watched you enchantedly. “You’re the love of my life, and I owe everything to you. You’ve kept me sane throughout this whole process. I wouldn’t be up here without you. This award, it’s for us. I love you” Cillian commended, giving you an angelic smile.

The crowd roared in exhilaration. The camera focused on you and your teary eyes as you were shaking your head in disbelief and happy embarrassment.

“I’m a very proud Irish man standing here tonight. So…” Cillian smiled as he raised his award into the air. The crowd cheered as he could feel the privilege of honoring his nationality. “You know, we made a film. We made a film about the man who created the atomic bomb. And for better or for worse, we’re all living in Oppenheimer’s world. So I would really like to dedicate this to the peacemakers everywhere” Cillian finished with a satisfied nod. “Go raibh mile maith agaibh!” He raised the award one final time as he spoke his native language and took a step back from the microphone.

The music began as Cillian winked to you. Everyone stood up again as they all applauded him, many eyes were on you as well. He engaged with the past winners as they all walked off stage. People congratulated you for landing such a romantic man and you couldn’t argue with them if you wanted you.

You kissed him passionately in the elevator, the buzz of the champagne you shared in the ride over giving the pair of you slightly too much confidence. Cillian was chuckling slowly as you both looked at the award in his hand. The doors dung open and you were cheered by the guests in the venue of the afterparty.

A snort left Cillian as he noticed a tap of Guinness at the bar. Neither of you could refuse a pint of it. The night rolled on with many congratulations, drinks, photographs, hand shakes, embraces and conversations on what an achievement this had been. No one would be able to guess how exhausted Cillian truly was. But the adrenaline was still pumping through his blood stream and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

As the music blasted and the dance floor filled with highly tipsy people, Cillian confidently pulled you onto it. His arms wrapped around your body as he swayed you to the music. The two of you smiled gleefully, intoxicated with the moment and built up emotion over these past few months. Even though the lighting was dark, you could see the crooked smile on his lips.

“Let’s have another” he proposed into your ear. You hummed and looked up to him. A heavy laugh left your mouth as you turned your foot to the bar but he stopped you. “No, no” he laughed. “Another baby” he clarified.

“You only ever wanted one” you brought up. It was unsure if he was being serious, or merely caught up in the moment.

“I’ve been wrong” he admitted, swaying you perfectly to the beat of the music. You hummed confidently, a sparkle in your eyes, the thought of a baby boy with his eyes coming to mind. “You’ve brought me out of my hardest moments. I know I tell you this all the time but woman, you mean everything to me. Your support, advice, guidance and love is all I’ll ever need to live a fulfilled life. You’ve taught me so much which has benefitted not only my career but happiness and spirit in life. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say or show you” Cillian confessed.

Innocent embarrassment made you shake your head towards him. He just had a way with words that made your heart swoon over him, even when he was drunk. A long, gentle kiss connected you together once more. This was life, the happiness you both could share together. Not the expensive outfits, fancy cars or grand events. It was the emotions and feelings intertwined as one between two bodies.

Cillian had made history tonight, but you were forever to be his grand prize in life.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fluff #oscar winner #light angst

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jaysgirlx · 3 months

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jason todd keeps you at arm's length and he does it on purpose. you're not sure if he does it because he is scared or maybe because he enjoys it. maybe he enjoys you blindly getting attached to his love and affection only for him to crush your heart.

from the way he treated you, you knew this relationship would be different. you'd felt more loved and cared for with him than you had in any of your previous relationships. you knew your old wounds would affect your trust in him but you still did and you could only hope he trusted you.

"i swear my intention wasn't to make you feel bad baby"

"it's okay jay, it's my fault"

but he didn't and you knew it. it was the small things that gave it away. certain topics he'd quickly steer away from, disappearing for long periods of time and the lack of real affection. the two of you lacked that close connection that you'd always desired but who were you to complain? jason didn't owe you a thing, he was supposed to be good for you even if it hurt.

"i promise it's not you, i just don't like-"

"i know, i'm sorry for asking"

some days you were so happy to even get a message from him, the others you felt a bit empty like he took a part of you when he disappeared. you always satrted your conversations and we're worried if you didn't that you might not even hear from him. you knew jason was busy just way more than just his "work" and he felt the need to take care of his family. you loved him for it, of course, you did.

"i'm sorry for being so busy, i'll make it up to you later"

"don't worry about it, it was stupid"

you loved everything about him, you loved how you could talk for hours and he'd listen, like really listen. he showed genuine interest you hadn't seen in a long time and he made you feel cared for. you couldn't remember the last time you had someone take care of you like that and that just made things a whole lot harder. because you didn't know how to act or what to do with this sort of treatment.

the idea of jason not actually loving you scared you. the entire relationship constantly felt like a trap and you didn't know if there would ever be a time where you were simply just happy with him. he tried to reassure you but with the way he kept you so far from his private life, you didn't trust him. even though he tried his best to fix himself and be better for you, you couldn't trust him. if he didn't trust you then it was only fair you'd do the same.

"do you want to go out tonight for dinner?"

"its really late jay, i think i'll just order in"

jason todd would watch as you would begin to stay at your own distance and protect your poor heart. the one he thought he'd finally get to love.

"why are you making it so difficult for me to just love you?"

"you made it difficult jason"

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askuemki · 2 months

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I don't know what the art demons cursed me with, but thanks

If you wish she had muscles here, here's something REALLY old lol

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writersblockiskillingme · 3 months

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Jabberjays | Johanna Mason

Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District4!Finnick's sister!reader)

Summary: During the attack of the Jabberjays Katniss is introduced to a whole different Johanna.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, the quarter quell, jabberjays, panic, screaming, weapons, you know typical hunger games stuff, also this is more like a short blurb but yeah, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I always wanted to write something about the Jabberjay attack so I absolutely loved the request! Also I made the reader Finnick's sister, I hope that's okay. Hope you enjoy!!

Request -> hi! i have a request for johanna!! could u do one where fem!reader and her are in a relationship that’s not secret just private (like only finnick knows) but something happens in the arena where johanna gets worried about r & finnick and katniss have a talk like johanna and katniss did in the movie abt annie? sry if that was too long or didn’t make sense! ty <33

Johanna just went into the thick forest to get some water with the spile that Haymitch send them so that they don't die of dehydration. She was regretting it now.

Katniss, Peeta, Beetee, your brother Finnick and you were on the beach. You were sitting with Katniss on the dry sand as you anxiously waited for Johanna to return from the forest as you stated at the hole in the sand that Johanna's ax made.

Thankfully, you thought to yourself, she took it with her.

Everything was relatively peaceful, too peaceful even. You didn't like it one bit. Something was coming. The game makers wouldn't allow the things to be so peaceful for so long. You were soon proven right as you heard the ear piercing scream that only seemed to shake through you.

"Johanna!" Your voice screamed back, every bit of common sense leaving you as you bolted towards the sound of Johanna's bloody-like screams.

You left your knives on the beach, along with the rest of your team that were screaming your name, confused from your actions as they tried to keep up with you. You were in a vulnerable place as you waved your hands around, trying to keep the thick leaves, that were swang down blocking your vision, away from your face as you ran still screaming Johanna's name as much as she screamed yours.

"Johanna!" You shouted as you reached the center of the forest where Johanna's screams were.

You were moving around in the circle, trying to determine where exactly her voice was coming from. After a while it hit you as you realized that her screams were coming from above. High in the trees. Then you saw the jabberjays flopping their little wings in the air, swaying the leaves of the trees and you knew that you fell right in the Capitol's trap.

"Y/N!" Finnick's muffled voice came towards you and you quickly turned towards him. Katniss, Beetee and Peeta were there with him, looking extremely concerned.

But why were they not coming closer?

The painful sounds of Johanna's screaming was messing with your head, panick gripping onto each and every fragment of your mind and body.

Why were they not coming over? Why aren't they helping? Why are they just standing there?!

Your felt your arms moving up, your hands gripping your head to try and kill the ever racing thoughts and the continuous mocking of the jabberjays. Then, as your eyes frantically searched the area, you spotted Johanna. Her eyes full of concern only reserved for her close friends and her love.

Then, the next thing that happened just confused you even more. Finnick grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her as she moved forward towards you, ax in her hand. She twisted her arm, releasing her arm from Finnick's grip as she yelled at him while he talked to her about something that you didn't hear. Her expression changed from concerned to utterly horrified.

"Y/N!" You heard Johanna's muffled, concerned voice mixing with the imitation of the screaming that the jabberjays provided.

You didn't think, the constant screaming was too much. You ran towards her, but came to a stop when your body hit something invisible. The force field. You started banging your hands against the force field trying to ignore the looks of pity and concern from your lover, brother and allies. You didn't want to except this.

The screaming intensified as the birds got closer to you, and you found yourself sliding onto the ground, screaming bloody murder just so you could tone down the sound of Johanna's and Finnick's torturous screams. Johanna was taping on the force field shouting at you something that you didn't understand.

That's how Johanna found herself banging her ax forcefully against the force field, trying to break it. Finnick next to her, hitting the force field with his trident, his eyes full of concern as he watched his baby sister's torture.

The new hour began and Katniss watched the scene in front of her not believing the state that Johanna was in. The hurried movements with her ax, the horrified expression on her face, her eyes full of concern. She cared about someone here. She actually, genuinely, cared about someone here.

"Y/N!" Johanna's voice reached your ears, tearing through the ringing in them as you swayed back and forth on the ground. "The hour is up! You okay! It's over! I'm here!"

After you finally came to your senses enough to look at her, you immediately wrapped your arms around her as tightly as you possibly could, not letting go.

"Johanna," You gasped through neverending sobs as your body shook against hers. "You're all right."

"We're both alright." She answered you with the softest voice Katniss ever heard.

Later on you all gathered at the beach once again. Peeta and Beetee went of a bit further away on the beach, looking for some food. Johanna and you settled down on the edge of the beach away from the rest of the team, but still in their eyesight, and finally Katniss and Finnick sat down, learning against the trees.

"Are they together?" Katniss asked Finnick, breaking the silence. "Johanna and Y/N?"

"Yes." Finnick answered immediately, his sea-green eyes snapped to look at her gray ones. "They didn't really keep it a secret, it was private. Only Mags, Annie, Haymitch and I knew really. They wanted to keep it in the close circle of friends."

"I've never seen Johanna act like that before," Katniss quietly murmured as she processed this new information that Finnick told her. "It was quite terrifying."

"Yeah, well," Finnick couldn't help himself as he chuckled playfully at her confession. "Johanna loves her so much. It is terrifying, honestly." He, however, continued on a more serious note. "Y/N won her games a year before Johanna. She helped her when she was going through tough times after she went out of the arena. Johanna lost her family. Y/N is the only thing that she lives for, now. She said it herself when I gave her, correction," Finnick held his finger up in the air, noting that he expressed himself wrongly. "Tried, key word tried, to give her I'm-her-older-protective-brother-so-you-better-not-hurt-her speach."

"And how did that turn out?" Katniss couldn't help but to ask, given how Johanna was she knew that his answer was going to be good.

"Oh, she smacked me across the head." Finnick smiled and Katniss found herself laughing at his answer just like she expected to.

Finnick and Katniss gazed to the couple that was still knee deep in the water, arms wrapped around each other as you sat in between Johanna's legs, your back leaning against her front.

"I'm glad that they have each other," Katniss spoke her thoughts out loud. "Even though they are so different they just seem to fit so well with one another."

"Definitely."

"What the hell are you two gossiping about?" Johanna called out causing you to giggle softly as you spoke.

"Yeah! And why the hell didn't you invite us?!"

TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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talesofely · 4 months

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The (Wo)Man Who Can't Be Moved

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x GN/Fem!Reader

Summary : Natasha's your ex-girlfriend, she broke up with you without giving you a solid reason as to why. Obviously, you want her back. One problem, she's unofficially dating Bucky Barnes. So you decided to solve it with a little performance.

Warnings : Angst, Fluff, Hopeful Ending (?), Swearing I think, reader is mostly gender neutral but i envisioned it as a fem!reader soooo, pls tell me if u see anything else

Note : I rlly wanna make a part 2 of this, lmk what u guys think thooo

Word Count : almost 2k

Save My Tears - Part 2

Tony decided to host another one of his famous Stark parties. This time, his excuse was that you are single again, and that Natasha and Bucky had something going on. What he didn't know was you and Natasha didn't quite end in good terms, cause she broke up with you. And of course... that you still miss her so god damn much.

So there you were, in your room, mentally preparing yourself to see the love of your life with her soon to be boyfriend. You didn't want to go, you absolutely wanted to just run away. But you couldn't. You had to show that the break up didn't affect you as much as they thought it did, even if it really did.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." The door opened and revealed a redhead. You smiled sadly at the woman, it wasn't your redhead. It was Vision's.

"I told you I'm fine, Wands." You tried your best to give her a genuine chuckle. Wanda didn't seem to be convinced though.

"You look good, L/N. Trying to impress somebody?" Wanda said as she leaned against the closed door of your room.

"You already know the answer to that." You said as you shook your head, standing up to apply perfume.

"Just tell her, Y/N/N. I mean, you should shoot your shot before it's too late. I heard Buck's gonna ask her to be his girlfriend officially tonight." Wanda announced, watching you intently as you try desperately to calm your nerves.

"What am I supposed to say, Wands? Please take me back, I miss you so much, I know you broke up with me but I want you back?" You sarcastically said as you scoffed. "Plus, I don't wanna ruin what she has with Bucky. She must like him so much if she made their relationship public within three days of seeing each other."

"She isn't happy with him, and we both know that. I care about Natasha too, Y/N, I want her to be atleast happy with who she's with. Plus, how can you know she doesn't want you back if you haven't even asked?" Wanda asked with a raised brow. You didn't dare to make eye contact, just staring at the perfume bottle on your hand. "Think about it, alright?"

Wanda left your room, leaving you alone with more thoughts than you had 30 minutes ago.

Stark decided to go to the next level for this party. He had a stage in the middle of the living room, a bunch of speakers, and a mic stand.

The party was more lively than normal. Everyone was teasing the future couple, much to your annoyance. Natasha and Bucky were the center of attention.

Apparently, Bucky loves getting all that recognition and attention, but deep down you know Natasha doesn't. Your ex-girlfriend loves parties, but she doesn't like it when she's the center of attention. Bucky doesn't seem to know it considering he's showing her off like she's just a trophy.

You sat at the bar, alone, drinking your Aunt Roberta cocktail. Clint approached you, Tony right behind him. You didn't acknowledge them, just continuing to watch the 'It Couple' as Tony calls them.

"You okay, Y/n?" Clint asked with a small smile. You're guessing he didn't know what happened, you didn't know if Natasha told him how she broke your heart. You just nodded in response, drinking down the last of your cocktail.

"They're such a nice couple, right? Natasha and Bucky? I'm not glad you and Nat broke up but I'm glad they found each other." Tony said with a grin, oblivious to the fact that you want to punch him in the face.

"Mhm." You responded with another nod. You couldn't do this sober, but the alcohol wasn't doing anything.

"Hey, Y/N, you should sing! You have a great voice, right!? You used to sing for Natasha when you were still together!" Tony slurred out, obviously intoxicated now. Clint nodded in agreement, both trying to convince you to sing.

You didn't want to, you weren't in the right mood to put on a show.

However, when your eyes drift to Natasha and Bucky slow dancing to your song, 'Wonderful Tonight' by Eric Clapton, the same song you two always danced to, you snapped.

You cleared your throat to steal Tony and Clint's attention. You stood up and fixed your suit's jacket. The polo you were wearing underneath had three buttons unbuttoned, showing just enough for men and women to go wild.

"I'll go sing, Anthony. The tablet beside the mic is connected to the speakers, right?" You asked as Tony nodded eagerly. He always liked it when you sang, saying you had a specific vibe he couldn't get from other singers.

Before you could fully walk away, Clint shouted at you, making you turn around and raise a brow at him.

"Go get your girl back." He mouthed then winked. You rolled your eyes at him before flipping him off.

When you reached the stage, Steve got off and handed you the mic with a smile. You sat down on the chair, everyone was surprisingly cheering for you. Mostly everyone's eyes were on you, excited for the song you were about to play.

You didn't dare to look into the audience, in fear of meeting those green eyes you used to call home. The fondness in them wasn't for you anymore, anyways.

"Hey, everyone. I hope y'all are having an amazing night. I do hope you enjoy these songs I'm about to play." You said as you clicked the instrumental version of the song you chose, on the tablet.

Going back to the corner where I first saw you

Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move

Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand

Saying, "If you see this girl can you tell her where I am?"

(Italics are flashbacks)

Three days after Natasha broke up with you, you decided to drive to a park where you two always went on. You sat on the exact bench where you asked her to be your girlfriend. Not a lot of people walked by, it was a slightly secluded area.

You stared at the lake in front of you, watching as the ducks you always used to feed with Natasha swim towards you. One duck in particular, the one you named Nibbles, the one you considered your child, approached you and stood on your foot.

You smiled sadly at him, caressing his fluffy head.

"Hi, Nibbles. Your mama isn't here, I'm sorry. We won't show up together anymore, buddy. I still promise to visit, okay?"

People were giving you weird looks but you didn't care. You just gave the duck a piece of bread that he dipped in the lake before waddling back to you so he could eat it beside you.

And how can I move on when I'm still in love with you?

You met those green eyes while singing the particular line. You couldn't read it, it had too many emotions for you to decipher. You saw her smile faltered though. You gave her a small bittersweet smile as everyone around you was singing along to the song and nodding their heads to the beat.

'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me

And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be

"Where the fuck is Y/N, Wanda?" Natasha asked, barging in the younger redhead's room.

Wanda's head snapped to her door. She saw Natasha was holding the letter you left in her room over and over again, memorizing every sentence. A few tears escaped, but she immediately wiped them away. She saw how the 'Love Always, Y/N.' was smudged, like it got wet from a teardrop.

"What do you mean, Natasha? I thought you knew she left. She's gone, Nat. She left for a no-contact mission, even Fury doesn't know when she'll be back." Wanda said flatly, standing up to kick Natasha out of her room.

"Why'd you care anyways? Miss her?" Wanda said sarcastically with an eye roll.

"She didn't tell me." Natasha murmured, stepping out of the room.

"Why would she? You broke up with her, remember?" With that, Wanda closed the door to her room, making sure to lock it.

Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet

And you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street

You walked around the park, even walking the streets where you two would 'window shop' but you end up buying her everything she looks at. Your feet stopped when you saw the familiar ice cream parlor on the corner of the street.

You remember taking her there on your first half-anniversary, right after you two finished a mission. The mission was rough, it didn't physically hurt any of you but it did take a toll on your mental states. You wanted to cheer her up and distract her so you made up an occasion to convince her to go eat ice cream.

Policeman says, "Son, you can't stay here"

I said, "There's someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year.

Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows

If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go"

Your eyes met Steve's and he gave you a small smile. He remembers it too.

It was your first winter without Natasha. You were sitting on a swing in the park right in front of the compound. No one else was there except you cause it was cold and snowing really hard.

You felt someone sit on the swing beside you. It was Steve. He gave you a small comforting smile, nodding his head to greet you.

"You can't stay here all night, Y/N. It's cold, you should come in." He said in a low voice, trying to stay as casual as possible.

"I'm fine." You said, giving him an unconvincing smile.

"You're still waiting for her?" He asked. You looked at him but he was staring ahead.

You nodded timidly. "Always."

There are no holes in his shoes but a big hole in his world

"You're my world, Natasha." You murmured into her hair. You were cuddling in bed, her head on your chest.

She looked up at you, her ethereal green eyes staring up at you, filled with adoration. She smiled, that same smile that never fails to make your heart flutter no matter how many times you've seen it.

"I love you, детка." She whispered as you leaned down to press a soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you more, my Natalia."

Going back to the corner where I first saw you

Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move

When the last note ended, some were clapping, some were silent and looking at you in worry. You furrowed your brows, realizing a tear was currently rolling down your cheek.

You saw Clint giving you two thumbs up while Wanda was smiling sadly at you. You tried looking for your redhead, but you couldn't see her anywhere. Even Bucky wasn't there.

You bit your lower lip, trying to control your emotions. Did they leave together? Were they currently having the time of their life in Natasha's bedroom? Did Natasha bring Bucky to the rooftop like you two used to? Why did she leave?

You sighed and decided that you're going to take her absence as an answer to all your questions.

She moved on.

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #light angst #fluff #avengers x reader #gay gay gay #by ely !! ★#ely !! ★#Spotify

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the-record · 4 months

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☀️ i see the light ☀️

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

ellie is just trying to stay out of prison when she happens upon a tower, in it, a girl with magical hair and a frying pan

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

flynn rider!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader

pt 1 | a girl with golden hair

#☀️ i see the light ☀️#ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #ellie willams the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams angst #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou

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the-oblivious-writer · 26 days

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Let The Light |7|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season

Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard

Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety

Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.

Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her.

That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.

You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears.

“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch.

“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.

“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue.

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?”

“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.

“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone.

A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.

“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch.

“Of course. Call me?”

“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.

“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone.

You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars.

Nice going.

You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.

Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name.

You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?

“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?”

Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.

“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”

“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.

“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now. You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.

When were you going to stop jinxing things?

—

It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.

There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.

You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn.

If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon?

That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.

As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues.

The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.

—

You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.

“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”

You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”

You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”

“What the fuck—?!”

“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.

“But what’s the top??”

“That’s table seven.”

There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.

“What?” Her voice indifferent.

“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”

She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.

“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.

“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.

“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you.

“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.

Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.

You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”

“Can we just start on the math now?”

“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.

“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”

“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.”

Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.

“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you.

“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.

After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters.

All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.

She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.

“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her.

“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look.

“Lay it on me,” you said.

“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”

“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”

“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”

Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”

You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.

—

“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake.

You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”

“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.

“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.

“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.

Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.

“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth.

“Hm? Great!”

“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”

Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.

You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time.

You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.

You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce.

“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.

“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever.”

You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.

“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.

“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.

“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought.

“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself.

“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth.

“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”

“I guess.”

Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.

“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”

“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.

“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied.

“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”

“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”

“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”

“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second.

—

“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.

“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.

“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”

“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”

“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.

“Did you just say ‘darn’?”

“Yeah, what?”

Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”

“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking.

“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.

“Y/N?” The stranger asked.

“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.

What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?

“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.

“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.

The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her.

“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.

“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still doing those,” you told her with a genuine tone.

She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”

“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.

“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.

“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.

“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness.

“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”

“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.

“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.

“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again.

“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.

“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.

“Not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”

“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.

—

You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie.

“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”

“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.

“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”

Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud.

“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.

You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.

She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.

“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.

“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.

“You want something, Tar?”

“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.

You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”

“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming.

“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl.

She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.”

A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon.

You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.

“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this.

“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter.

The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone.

“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.

“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.

“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm.

“You finally surrender?”

“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”

“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.

“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”

“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.

“We need to get inside.”

“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.

“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso.

“Okay, come on.”

Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down.

She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”

“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.

She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning.

As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”

“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.

“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.

“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”

“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.

—

It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.

Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.

Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”

“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.”

“I know that, but miss—”

“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.

You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.

You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.

“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”

She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.

You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped.

It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—

—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.

“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?”

You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two.

“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you.

“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

—

When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.

“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!” Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.

She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”

You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table.

“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.

“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said.

“Wow.”

“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.

“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”

“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?”

“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—

“—Did your family move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.

“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.”

“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her.

You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.

“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say.

“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.

“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.”

“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky.

“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself.

“Something up?”

You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”

Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.

“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”

“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?”

You confirmed with a hum.

“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”

“Yes.”

She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”

“You really think so?”

“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.

“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.

“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”

“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.

“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.

Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.

—

Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Next was when she actually responded.

Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it

(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to

You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone.

You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet.

Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.

Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.

What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something!

Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face.

When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.

“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.

“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.

You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.

She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.

“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”

“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words. It suddenly became awkwardly quiet.

You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening.

Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.

“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested.

“I don’t have to look to know. We dated for three years, Y/N,” she said.

“Oh.”

“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”

You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.”

“What?”

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.

“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.

“Okay, they’re not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.

She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Which means you’re not fine.”

“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.

“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.

“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.

“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.

“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.

“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”

“What?”

“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”

“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”

“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”

“Time to what? Move one?”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”

“Y/N, nobody is—”

“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”

You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out.

“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”

You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion.

The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal.

You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.

As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.

“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.

“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”

“I thought you canceled,” you said.

“Uncanceled.”

“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.

“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?”

“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.

“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”

“Uh, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.

“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”

—

“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.

“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.

“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”

Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect.

“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.

Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.

You made a decision.

“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.

“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.”

“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.

After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.

“You know you’re going down, right?”

Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”

Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now.

Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.

She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.

You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”

You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.

“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”

“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her

“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions.

“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her.

“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.

“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.

“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.

“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.

“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”

“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”

“Exactly.”

“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.

It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”

“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out.

“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.

Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin.

The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.

“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.

“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.

“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.

“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun.

Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!”

“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.

“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice.

“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.

“Next time?”

“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change.

“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.

“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.

“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.

“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.

“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.

“I’m holding you to that!”

-----------

A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga

#let the light in au #tara carpenter #tara x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x fem!reader #scream x you #scream x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #scream fanfic

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angeliclovely69 · 2 months

Text

Soul Ties - 1

Pairing: Lute x Fem!Reader

AU: Soulmate(You are born with matching tattoos)

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Spoilers?, Adam being Adam, Gay, kinda similar to ACOSF, implied drinking problem

Summary: A relatively young Seraphim is forced to train with the Exorcists after breaking the rules. However, when she realises just who will be training her, she doesn’t mind. She enjoys the view.

Note: I have never read A Court of Silver Flames, but my friend said this is pretty similar. In what ways, I’m not sure, but I can assure you it is not intentional. Also, it wasn’t supposed to end in smut, but I couldn’t deny myself.

—

Stars. You fucking hate them. Pretty as they are, you have never seen anybody else with them marked into their skin. The black signature ran down your back, four stars in a line imprinted on the skin of your spine. They burn as you walk into the training ring.

She is waiting there as you were told, talking to who you know to be Adam, the first man. You only catch the last part of their conversation, the woman’s words. “Yes sir.” Adam’s eyes meet yours, “I forgot you were hot, little Seraphim.” He laughs at his words, you don’t, and neither does the lieutenant.

You are the second youngest Seraphim, only older then Emily by a hundred years. Not young in the grand scheme of things, but young for a high ranking angel. Everyone knows your age is why Sera allowed you to get away with your disobedience for so long. She figured you grow out of it, but when you came to work hungover, she had no other option. She had to punish you, if only for the sake of her reputation. She gave you two terrible choices.

Fall or train.

Simply no choice at all, really. Falling means admitting you failed. You can’t, that would mean everyone was right. Training isn’t going to be easy, you have never worked any muscles besides your wings, and even that was just from flying.

“Lute, this is who you’ll be training.” Thank god goodness he said her name because when Sera mentioned it you’d still been hungover. “Pleasure.” The white haired woman met your eyes now, her own sharp, determined. She doesn’t answer your statement, simply blinks as if thinking too hard to process.

“Do I have to?” She directs her attention to Adam, who just flips her off and flys away. “Fuck.” She mutters. Her eyes close for a moment, then she directs her full attention back to you. “Can you do a sit-up?”

“Can you actually try?” She is getting frustrated. Terribly so. You are making her job harder. You have been sitting watching her do her workouts for about an hour. You don’t answer, just look around the room. You trained for about 20 minutes with Lute before the space began to fill with other Exorcists.

You are embarrassed, to put it simply. How are you supposed to want to train when literal warriors surrounded you. You are stubborn, and she is mean. She doesn’t care if you fall. Why should she put in all the effort when you don’t even bother to do anything?

“I will not train here.” You really aren’t trying to be difficult. Sure you don’t want to train at all, but you aren’t the type of angel that would ever make someone’s life harder, well…ignoring Sera.

You want her to understand. She doesn’t. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your words go unanswered as the white haired lieutenant leaves, angry and confused. She understands this wasn’t your choice, but why the fuck can’t you do anything?

Lute asked Sera how you usually act when she originally told about the arrangement. According to Sera you could be stubborn, a little headstrong, but you would behave to the best of your abilities. Not only so that you wouldn’t be punished, but also because you hate making people angry. Any time you did, you ended up crying. Even Sera.

Sera had assured Lute that you’d try, but she couldn’t be sure how you’d react to the training, or Lute herself. Lute doesn’t know what the last part meant, but it doesn’t matter. She is going to end this arrangement. If you don’t care, she doesn’t either.

“How’d it go?” Sera asks, voice almost cracking. She is scared, Lute notices. “She didn’t do anything.” Bluntness laces her tone. Sera frowns. “Really? Nothing?” Lute wants to nod, but hesitates. “She did train at first, but then other exorcists came in, and she stopped. She just stared at me while I trained.” Lute rants.

The seraphim’s face seems to lighten, as if realising something Lute hasn’t. “What?” Lute doesn’t understand why you are the way you are. Doesn’t really care. Sera does understand, though.

You grew up as almost a younger sister to Sera. You aren’t related, but something about you draws Sera in. Draws everyone in, to be completely honest. You are, in a way no one could place, different. Not in the conceited way. No. Your soul just doesn’t belong where it is. You were almost too kind. Too gentle. Sera hates that she has to punish you, but you’ve been going through something she can’t handle.

“When the others came in?” Sera questions, confirming a thought process Lute still hasn’t caught on to. “Yes! I said that already.” Her tone is harsh, and one look from the high seraphim, has her nodding a silent apology.

“Did you not question the reason?” The seraphim’s voice is gently coercing the answer from the lieutenant. Lute simply shakes her head, her frustration growing again. She knows the reason, you are a lazy brat.

“Tell me, have you ever been embarrassed?” Sera’s smile is light. “Yes.” Lute’s single word was harsh. The seraphim gives her yet another pointed look. “Sorry…”

Lute has never been able to tame the frustration that always bubbles underneath her skin. A type of frustration that doesn’t belong in Heaven. Rage that killed hundreds. That was her purpose. Death and retribution. Her very soul screamed anger, pure uncontrollable rage.

That’s why Adam has chosen her. Chosen her over everyone else. Made her his lieutenant. His right hand. She obeys orders and allows unnecessary demands. That’s what this arrangement is. Unnecessary.

“Then do you understand?” Sera is calm, too calm compared to Lute’s frustration. Lute shakes her head. Not trusting herself enough to not let the frustration show again. “Do I need to explain it to you?” A nod. Short, subtle.

“In the simplest of terms, she’s embarrassed. Classical trained soldiers. Heaven’s greatest. The universe’s greatest. Compared to a girl who can barely walk up stairs without losing her breath. She’s probably the most proudly stubborn person I’ve ever met. She doesn’t want to fall on her ass.” A nice- no. Lute processed the information slowly. Sera asks if she understands. Another nod.

Lute doesn’t say anything else, just leaves the room. She isn’t sure where to train you if you are uncomfortable in the public space. Unless, she let’s you use her personal space. No. That isn’t happening. She’ll just have to make do.

It doesn’t work. The next day you do the same thing. For the first 20 you are engaged, then the others fill the room, and you sit off to the side.

“Fuck this!” Lute yells in the locker room, slamming her fist into the mirror. It shatters. “Fuck!” She yells again. You left a while ago, and Lute had to stay. You aren’t her only assignment after all.

Her back is burning. Her entire body is burning. Rage is practically seeping from her skin. She takes off her shirt in an attempt to cool down. It’s late, extremely late, and for once the training area is empty. At least it should be, it was a bit ago. Now, though, she can hear panting. Distant, airy. She debates putting her shirt back on, but she shrugs the thought off. The Exorcists have seen her shirtless before.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the woman doing sit ups in the middle of the ring isn’t an Exorcist. It’s you. Panting. Sweating. She stares for a minute. Can’t stop herself.

When she finally catches herself, she walks over to you. “Shhh. Don’t talk.” Her tone isn’t soft, but it’s no where near harsh either. Improvement. Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t realize she was there. Fuck. How long was she there? Was she judging you?

She catches herself liking the look in your eyes. Liking your eyes in general. It takes a moment of staring for her to blink. “Go to bed. Ah. Sh.” She cuts off your attempt at an argument. “Go to bed. For training tomorrow meet me at my private training area. This time. It will be there from now on.” She doesn’t say anything else as she walks away.

She silently thanks god for it being dark. She doesn’t need you knowing anything about her.

#hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x fem!reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute smut #soulmate au #matching tattoos #AU #hazbin hotel au #wlw #light enemies to lovers

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 11 days

Text

Doubt

Title: Doubt

Pairing: Alastor x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Word Count: ~2,881

In which the reader inadvertently lets her feelings slip, and she finds out what she really means to Alastor.

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, A cuss word in there somewhere, ooc Alastor maybe

When the Radio Demon himself had asked you out to dance, how could you possibly have said no? After all, he wasn’t just the Radio Demon to you, he was Alastor - the man who had saved you from a life of imprisonment after you had naively sold your soul to the Vees, who had brought you back to Charlie’s Hotel, and who had since become one of the most trusted people in your life.

Even now, you weren’t exactly sure what had drawn Alastor to you all those years ago. Whenever you asked, he was quick to change the subject or deflect.

Not that you would ever complain, of course. Alastor had saved your life and demanded nothing in return, save for you staying away from the Vees’s territory, which you were only so happy to do.

Once you had settled into the hotel, you had found yourself a real family. One who watched your back and hugged you when things got hard. One who loved you despite your past and your flaws. One who didn’t abandon or use you.

All in all, your life here was better than your life when you were alive. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Now, as you rifled frantically through your closet, you couldn’t help but wish that Alastor had given you a bit more warning before your outing.

He had approached you only half an hour prior, materializing in your room and grabbing your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before straightening and asking if you would do him the honor of accompanying him to his old friend Mimzy’s club tonight.

You’d said yes, of course. Who would ever deny a night out? And how hard could it be to get ready in only an hour?

Exceedingly difficult, as it turned out.

Your rummaging became increasingly desperate as you searched your closet in vain, throwing dresses, shirts, blouses, and everything else that you owned on the floor as you discarded them. You were going out with Alastor, after all. You had to make a good impression.

You were stopped by a sudden knock at the door.

“Come in,” you called over your shoulder.

You listened as someone’s light footsteps entered your room. “Geez, dollface, was there a break-in or something?” The voice’s tone changed from confusion to amusement. “Or are ya finally burning all of your clothes so I can take you shopping?”

You huffed in indignation and spun to face Angel Dust, hands on your hips. “My closet is fine, thank you. I’m just-” you looked back at your empty closet and sighed, dropping your hands to your sides. There was no way you would be ready in the next half an hour without some help.

You turned back to face Angel, a sheepish grin on your face. “I don’t have time to go shopping, but I’ll let you give me a full makeover tomorrow if you help me get ready to go dancing at Mimzy’s club tonight.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back against your doorframe. “A full makeover? You going on a date or something?”

“I’m going out with Alastor.”

His smile only grew in size. “Going out with Smiles tonight, huh?” He glanced down at your discarded pile. “I guess I can put something together. How much time do I have to work my magic? A few hours?”

You flushed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Can you make me presentable in the next thirty minutes?”

Angel waved his hand dismissively before grabbing your hand and leading you straight out of your room and across the hall to his own bedroom. “Of course I can, sweetcheeks, that’s nothing. I’ll have you ready in a jiff.”

You smiled appreciatively as Angel led you swiftly to his vanity and sat you in his chair. “I owe you one,” you promised.

He gave you a wink. “You don’t owe me nothing, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me work.”

~~~

True to his word, Angel managed to have you brushed up and looking like a princess in less than half an hour. To be honest, you were pleasantly surprised when you saw the finished look.

Not that you ever doubted Angel’s skills, of course, but where you had expected a bold face of makeup and a showy dress that followed today’s trends, he had gone in a vastly different direction.

Your makeup looked much more natural than you thought Angel was capable of. Your eyeshadow was dark, but subtle. Your eyeliner was winged, of course, and he had painted your lips a dark shade of red. The best part of the ensemble, though, was that he had dressed you in a surprisingly 50s looking modest black dress that he had had in his closet ‘just in case’. All in all, you had to admit that it was better than anything you could have ever put together.

You spun in front of his full length mirror. “I love it,” you said quietly, unable to stop the grin that spread across your features.

“Of course ya do,” Angel replied from his place on the edge of his bed. Fat Nuggets had taken up residency in his owner’s lap, and both of them were watching you with smug glee.

Well, as smug as a pig could get, anyway.

“And if I ain’t mistaken,” Angel continued, “Your date started five minutes ago. You should probably stop spinning and start walking.”

You stopped admiring your reflection and flushed. “I’m that late?” You walked backwards towards the bedroom door. “Thank you Angel, I owe you, really. See you later!”

The sound of Angel Dust chuckling kindly followed you across the hall as you quickly closed the door to your own room behind you.

A voice sounded out of the darkness. “Ready now, are we?”

You jumped at the sound and whirled around, flicking your lights on and staring in surprise when you saw Alastor perched on the edge of your bed.

“You know, my dear, it really is bad manners to…”

The demon trailed off when he finally caught sight of you.

You suddenly felt exceedingly self conscious as his eyes started to roam over your ensemble. It was 50s inspired, sure, but what if Alastor found it offensive? What if he thought it was laughable? What if he hated it? What if -

You stepped back as Alastor melted into the shadows and reappeared directly in front of you. His eyes studied your face almost curiously.

“Angel helped,” you piped nervously. “I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Alastor replied as he raised a hand. He gently grasped your chin in his fingers and tilted your head from side to side. “The outfit you wore when I asked you to join me would have sufficed.”

You scoffed, pulling your chin back and looking down at the floor. “We’re going to Mimzy’s club, Al. I couldn’t have just shown up in a random shirt and pants.”

A clawed hand tilted your face back up to meet Alastor’s. You gasped in surprise when you saw that the two of you were practically nose to nose. “I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear,” Alastor said in a low voice.

“Never,” you breathed, not daring to blink.

If there was any one consistent presence in your life, it was Alastor. He had never steered you wrong, and the least you could do in return was trust his word.

The Radio Demon’s smile softened at your response. He released your chin and stepped back, looking you up and down one more time before turning away.

“I meant what I said, darling,” he drawled, the static in his voice ever present. “You would have been quite a gem even in your-” he rolled his eyes and waved his hand dramatically “-random shirt and pants.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from rising up to your cheeks. It was one thing for Angel to appraise his own work, but it was quite another for Alastor to agree with his assessment.

You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I was late. Should we go? I know Mimzy doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

A lie. You’d never met Mimzy before in your life. But if you were going to try and stop your blushing cheeking from giving away just how much you appreciated his compliment, you had to distract yourself somehow.

Alastor looked down at his pocket watch and hummed. “I do suppose we should be on our way. She did request an audience, after all.”

You blinked. “An audience? I thought…”

The overlord looked back at you with a raised brow, looking more confused than anything. “You thought what, my dear?”

You felt your shoulders sag, though you internally chastised yourself for feeling at all disappointed. How could you have assumed that Alastor’s only goal today was to dance with you at a club? Of course he had another motive.

You forced a smile on your face. “Nothing. Sorry. We should go.”

You tried to brush your disappointment away. It didn’t matter why he had asked you. The fact that he had asked at all was plenty.

Except it isn’t, a little voice inside of you whispered. For years now, Alastor had been your protector, watching over you and ensuring your safety, even while helping Charlie to look after the hotel and feuding with Vox.

As time had slowly gone by, you had hoped that maybe you could help Alastor as much as he had helped you. He wouldn’t let you help at his radio station, and since the Radio Demon wasn’t exactly an emotional sharer, you had decided that the least you could do was be a constant, solid presence in his life.

You had even thought that you were making progress over the past few months, and your hopes had been solidified when he had asked you out to Mimzy’s club. After all, he would never have asked you if he didn’t see you as some sort of friend, right?

Now, though, you could see how foolish you had been. How could you have ever hoped to help Alastor in any way? He was a demon of solitude, and your wish to help him had made you blind to that.

You started towards your door, hoping to hide the embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

But before you could make it, a shadow appeared ahead of you, frowning down at you as it blocked the door.

You refused to look him in the eye. “We’ll be late, Al. We need to go.”

“It seems as though you aren’t quite ready, my dear.” The static of his voice grew closer as he spoke. You tensed up when you felt his faint breath on the back of your neck. “After all, you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

You finally turned to face him, hating the feelings flooding through your veins and the thoughts rushing through your head. How was Alastor ever meant to learn to lean on you if you couldn’t even hold yourself together? It was bad enough that you lacked his grace and poise, and now he would see what a truly pathetic and fucked up specimen he had saved all those years ago.

Alastor looked down at you, his expression ever passive, his smile ever present. But beneath the mask, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were narrowed as he studied your face.

From behind you, his shadow placed two gentle hands on your shoulders, carefully holding you in place as if afraid that you would bolt.

You swallowed and forced your head up to meet the Overlord’s eyes, plastering a false smile on your face. “I’m ready.”

“You most certainly are not, my dear,” Alastor replied, the static in his voice fading to a soft buzz. He raised his hand silently and placed it on your cheek.

Instinctively, you tilted your head and allowed your cheek to be cradled gently by his clawed hands, closing your eyes as you savored the feeling. It was almost enough to make you forget what had upset you in the first place.

“Mon chere,” Alastor said, something resembling concern present in his voice. “What’s troubling you?”

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring into his. “I thought…” you began once again before pressing your lips together. It would do nobody any good if you confessed your thoughts out loud. You might even inadvertently push him away.

“Thought what?”

His eyes were searching yours for an answer you weren’t sure you were yet willing to give. His hand remained cradling your face, and his shadow behind you had yet to release you from its gentle touch.

You took a deep breath. Even if your true feelings did push him away, didn’t you at least owe it to him after all this time to be honest? Even if it was the last thing you were ever able to do for him.

You closed your eyes again. “I thought we were going to Mimzy’s to spend time together,” you admitted, hating the way your breath caught, hating the way your voice cracked, and hating the way your heart stopped. You pushed forward. “I didn’t realize you were going for business, I thought maybe you wanted to spend time together.”

A laugh bubbled its way through your lips. “It was silly of me to assume, though. I know you’re busy, I just thought maybe I was getting through to you. I thought you were starting to let your guard down around me, and that I could just be there for you.”

You stepped to the side, away from both Alastor and his shadow. “I thought we were becoming something like friends. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” You squeezed your eyes shut in desperation. “I know that I’m nothing more than a soul that you saved. I know that, I promise I do. And I won’t ever again mistake your actions for something that they’re not. So please don’t give up on me, Al. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The room was silent.

Too silent.

You slowly glanced up.

Alastor’s shadow was gazing at you, unmoving from his spot by the door. Beside him, Alastor was looking past you and at the wall, his hands clenching his staff and his smile strained.

“You don’t need to say anything,” you said as you rushed to fix what you had broken. “Truly, you don’t. Let’s just go to Mimzy’s and forget that this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately, my dear,” Alastor drawled, his eyes flickering back to you. “This isn’t an interaction that either one of us will be able to forget by morning.”

You swallowed heavily, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to escape. “Please, Al.” Your voice was hardly a whisper. “Don’t give up on me, not now.”

At your words, his shadow melted into the ground and materialized before you, placing both hands gently on your cheeks and lowering his head down until your foreheads touched. Just as suddenly, the shadow stepped back and melted into the ground again, allowing the real Alastor to take his place.

He looked down at you once again, but this time, his expression was almost open, almost tender, almost endearing. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his lips before pressing it to the place that his heart would have been beating if you had met in another life.

For a moment, he said nothing. You waited with bated breath, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest at the fact that Alastor had yet to release you.

Then, when you thought you couldn’t bear the silence any longer, Alastor hummed softly. “I do hope you haven’t started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you vowed without a moment’s hesitation.

Alastor’s smile seemed to ease slightly. “I may not rely on you as much as you yourself would like.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was trying to choose his words carefully. “But do know this, mon chere. I doubt I would still be in one piece if it wasn’t for you. And I have no intention of giving you up.” His eyes flashed. “Not ever.”

Your knees almost gave out as you breathed a sigh of relief. Without thinking, you pressed forward, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around him tightly. “Thank you, Al,” you whispered, your spirit bright.

Alastor gently took hold of your shoulders and pushed you back, though his eyes shined softly. “Careful now, my dear. We wouldn’t want to ruin all of Angel Dust’s hard work, now, would we?”

You laughed and lowered your arms. “I guess not.”

The Radio Demon smiled down at you, holding out his arm like the gentleman he was. “Shall we, then, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. For all of his secrets and tricks, he had only ever been kind to you. Why wouldn’t you accept?

You linked your arm through his and grinned as he guided you towards the door.

Perhaps you were doing a better job with Alastor than you had thought.

A/N: I've got Hazbin Hotel on the brain. Part 2 of sorts coming soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

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