#like i can just go 'this looks good!' and im sure they would love even lil comments like that

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready���” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[rafeandonlyrafe]

accused (part two)

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, accusations of stealing, protective!rafe (hes such a good boyfriend <3)

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hi.” you smile, cheeks slightly blushed.

“hello, beautiful.” rafe doesn't give you time to be nervous, pulling you into a hug.

you relax into his hold, taking a deep inhale and exhale as your cheek rests against his chest, remembering the solace you found in his arms when you needed it most.

“excited?” rafe asks.

“we are just getting ice cream together.” you giggle.

“yeah, sure.” rafe joins in your laughter, loving the way it sounds in his ears. “but it's an ice cream date.”

“does that mean you're gonna kiss me goodnight?” you look at the rapidly setting sun. 

“of course.” rafe loops your hands together, guiding you towards the line to order.

-- 6 months later --

“missed you.” you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling him down into a strong kiss.

“missed you too, baby.” rafe doesn't point out that it's only been a couple days, having to spend the weekend apart as you were out of town with your parents.

“what are your plans?” rafe asks, hands gently massaging up and down your back.

“hanging out with you all day-”

“and night.” rafe interrupts you, smirking.

“anyways, then shopping with the girls tomorrow. we might also go out for dinner.” you shrug.

“sounds fun.” rafe nods. “just staying on the island though, right?” rafe knows you usually like to go inland or up the coast to shop, but that's usually a longer planned trip.

“mhm. just gonna hit all those little boutiques.” you shake your head, “but i dont wanna talk about tomorrows plans.”

“what do you wanna talk about then, sweetheart?” rafe asks.

“don't wanna talk.” you admit shyly. “just wanna kiss you.”

rafe bends down, lifting you up with large hands under his thighs, rushing up the stairs. “we can definitely do that, baby.

--

“that looks so cute on you!” you squeal, grabbing your friend giannas hand and pulling her over to the mirror.

“i love it!” she gushes before checking the pricetag. “only $85, im absolutely buying it.”

“oh, girl that's a steal!” you nod. 

“it's not like you don't have rafes credit card.” tina rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face to convey she's not serious.

“he says to buy whatever i want, as long as i give him a fashion show when i get home.” you say as gianna heads back into the changing room to get back into her clothes.

you pull out your phone to text rafe an update as tina does the same to her boyfriend.

hey rafeyyy miss you! shopping is going so well 💕 I think we're gonna hit up like two or three more stores and then ill be home!

alright, princess. have fun. see you real soon ❤️

“can i take some of the dresses?” the voice makes you jump, not even realizing that the shop owner was standing in front of gianna, hand outstretched.

“uh, yeah.” she hands over two of the hangers. “im not getting these two.”

the owner makes a disgruntled face, looking over the other two dresses gianna is still holding. “where's the other dress?”

“what dress?” you interject.

“yeah, she only tried on four.” tina adds.

“well, i saw five go in. you'll have to empty your bag.”

gianna is only wearing a small purse, no way a dress would even fit inside of it, but that's not the point, it's the principle that counts.

“hell no!” you say. “check the security cameras if you want, but we aren't allowing you to search us.”

“really?” the shop keepers eyebrows rise, like she expected you to just bow your head since you're a group of younger girls. “i guess you'll just have to pay for the dress i saw go into the dressing room and didn't come out. its $500.”

you pull out your phone, furiously messaging rafe and sending him your location.

“you messed with the wrong person.” tina shakes her head.

“and here, i don't want these either.” gianna hands the owner the other two dresses, even the one she loved.

“yeah, we will never shop here again.” tina says.

“we don't need thieves like you, anyways!” she grabs the dresses. “just pay for the one you're trying to steal and get out!”

you're sure if she pulled this scam on other people that they'd just get sick of the arguing and pay up, but you're absolutely refusing to play into her little game.

you smile as you hear the door open then slam closed, turning to see rafe with an angry look on his face.

“thank god you're here, rafe. this lady is trying to say we're stealing from her but refuses to watch the security cameras.” you inform him.

“is that so?” rafe looks around the shop. 

“rafe…” the shop keeper mumbles, trying to figure out why she knows the name. “you're rafe cameron?”

“yeah.” he crosses his arms. “like cameron development cameron. you know, the ones who own this entire block? including your landlords?” rafe tsks, shaking his head side to side. “i wonder what my dad would say if he knew you were accosting his son's girlfriend.”

“im-im sorry. i think this is all a big misunderstanding.” the owner quickly quoted, rushing away back to the counter.

“gianna, tina, you girls okay?” rafe asks.

“yeah.” tina twirls her hair around her finger, making you give her a quick glare.

“all good, thanks rafe.” gianna nods.

“lets get you girls out of here.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the shop. 

he presses a kiss to the top of your head once you're outside, leading you a couple steps away from your friends. “want to keep shopping? or are you done?”

“maybe…” you pout your lower lip out and look up at rafe. “maybe you could come with us to the next couple shops?”

rafe can't control the smile that stretches over his cheeks. “id be more than happy to, baby.”

you let out a little squeal, pressing your lips against his cheek. “i hate to say it, but thank god that guy followed me that day. cause i got the best boyfriend ever out of it.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

#rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine

[sugojosgf]

not so nice! nanami req can you write reader using the safe word with him ????

using your safeword with nanami

degradation + smut + comfort + mentions of sexual harassment

nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this ,,, you've said so multiple times.

but sometimes he can go overboard.

like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.

"k-kento! s'too much,,—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.

he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.

"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"

your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised,,,you loved it when he talked to you like this.

something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.

it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.

"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.

"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.

"kento! stop,,, red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.

it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.

"my sweet girl,,, i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.

he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.

"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.

"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart.,,," he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.

he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.

"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day,,,i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.

"oh,,,pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you,,." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.

"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."

you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.

bonus <3:

not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.

not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.

#nanami x reader smut #got me so soaked 〰⋆｡˚ #nanamin me 🧈 #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x y/n #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[harleehazbinfics]

Absolutely Smitten [Can we? continuation]

Prev | Author profile

a/n: hi im back with more word puke. enjoyyyy

song credit: Dodie - Absolutely Smitten

A few months later...

"Your highness, are you sure about this?" Mary, my handmaid, worried asked in a shushed tone as she followed after me in the crowded city.

"Oh, Mary! It's fine~ No one here even recognizes me with this disguise on! It'd be a waste to let the day pass by without seeing the festival for myself!" you say joyfully as you held her wrist and dragged her with you, while your knight followed after you obediently also dressed as a mercenary.

You dragged her to all sorts of places in the kingdom. Eating street foods, playing with the children while they braided your hair (that was dyed), and sang and danced with the people in the plaza.

You laughed as you got passed to another partner in the dance. You were met with a familiar shade of red and yellow eyes.

It was his majesty!

"Lucifer—!" your exclamation was cut short when he shushes you with a playful look in his eyes.

"Shh, you'll blow my cover, love," he jests before tugging you to the rhythm of the music.

"I-I thought you couldn't come," you reply feeling happy to be sharing this dance with him.

"It'd break my heart to see you dance without me. Of course I'd come if it's you," he confesses fondly at you.

You blush and beam him a smile. You honestly did think you'd go through the day without dancing with your husband in the festival that the both of you planned for the people.

You were truly excited to take part on the first day of the festival. Though, you didn't want to be a spectacle and cause a commotion that'll hinder the people from enjoying their day with their friends and family. So, you opted for a cover.

You invited Lucifer of course, but due to the piled-up work that needed his attention, he said he couldn't attend with you. Truly this was a pleasant surprise to see him now with you. His usual blonde hair was now colored black and red cheeks nowhere to be found. You'd recognize immediately his eyes and the way they shined mischievously. That was your husband alright.

"You're staring," he says twirling you.

You smile and answer, "You still look handsome with black hair."

He chuckles and bows his head, "Why, thank you, fair maiden."

"Unfortunately, for you my good sir. I'm happily married to my husband," you played dramatically.

"He must be the luckiest stud alive if he could have your hand in marriage," he continues.

"That he is," you finish with a giggle.

She knows this feeling all too well,

She feels her heart begin to swell,

Handsome stranger, you have made her insides turn to jelly.

You laugh and shriek as he tosses you in the air, still doing the dance together.

She wants to dance around the room,

Kiss you until her lips turn blue,

You hug his neck once you landed back into his arms. Him securely holding onto you also liking how you were squeezing him.

But handsome stranger, you have made her wonder,

Is she pretty?

He pecks your cheek as he sets you down and runs off with you leaving your attendance in a panic.

But it's too late,

She believes in fate.

You look at him in bewilderment following after him.

She's absolutely smitten,

She'll never let you go.

You laugh once again and run alongside him as you escaped your maid and squeezed his hand tightly.

That girl just there, yes, she's the one,

With Cupid's arrow in her bum

You were standing in front of a stall that sold cotton candy. You pointed to the candy that was bigger than the size of your head. Lucifer smiled at you so lovestruck at how adorable you were being in front of him.

Handsome stranger, you have made her happy,

The first in a long time

You stuff his mouth full of cotton candy and laughed at his reaction. He was wide-eyed shocked at the sweetness that was stuck in his teeth. You would have fell over if you hadn't held onto his arm.

He shakes his head playfully and straightens you up his arms before swiping his hand across your face to tame your now unruly hair.

He leans towards you and bumps your heads together with a smile before whispering, "You're so adorable and, oh so, beautiful. I love everything you do. I love you."

Did you just whisper in her ear?

Words she only dreamed to hear?

You cover your mouth with red dusting your cheeks from his confession. You've never been confessed to so sincerely before. It was thrilling and it made your heart feel full being loved by someone you loved.

Pretty lady, look at how he's smiling,

I think he likes you.

You stare at his red eyes that was tinted in orange hues from the light. He looked at you so intently as if he was being enchanted. Any bystander would take notice of his affection towards his lady.

But it's too late,

You believe in fate.

You bashfully took his face in your hand and leaned closer to him for an emotional kiss.

You're absolutely smitten,

You'll never let her go.

"I love you, Lucifer," you whisper as you broke the kiss somewhat breathless.

He practically beams as radiant as the sun and engulfs you in a hug lifting you off your feet. Elated that you finally said those words to him.

"No take backs now, (Y/n)! You said it yourself!" He exclaims twirling you both around til you were dizzy.

"Alright, alright! You win!" You call joyfully clutching onto his clothes.

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiralife @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo @luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod

🔗 Other Lucifer Fics:

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #alastor #lucifer morningstar fanfic #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #harleehazbinfic

[thenickgirl]

BSF!Nick HeadCanons

nick x fem!reader

disclaimer: this is all fictional, and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: kinda long, very very self-indulgent, pure fluff, swearing.

Nick as your best friend:

⚤ he loves to spend time with you, always asking you to come over and keep him company.

⚤ the two of you are so close and so comfortable with each other that you tell each other everything, the good, bad, and the ugly.

⚤ he’s protective, not overly, but you always know that you’re safe with him. he’s not letting any hate get to you, and if it does he’s always there to comfort you. he doesn’t hesitate to put haters in their place when it comes to you, not caring about any backlash it could cause him.

⚤ you both send tik toks and instagram reels back and forth all day long.

⚤ you share locations with each other, and anytime he checks and sees that you’re somewhere he doesn’t recognize he’s calling you immediately:

“bitch! where the fuck are you???”

“nick, are you fr checking my location again?”

“yes, now take your fast ass home”

⚤ when you’re sick, he’ll come over and help take care of you. attempting (failing) to make you soup, but then decides to just order in from panera. he’ll cuddle up with you while you watch movies or some reality tv show.

⚤ he’s always teasing and making fun of you, you both playfully argue so much that people on the outside think you actually hate each other.

⚤ you’re on the phone with each other for literal hours, whether it’s texting, on a call, or on FaceTime.

⚤ if you’re in college, he’ll make sure you stay on top of your studies. he’ll never let you put off schoolwork just to go hang out with him:

“nick come onnn, i can study when i get back, it’s fine i promise”

“un uhh, nope! you’re not gonna blame me when your ass fails”

“but ni-“

“GO STUDY Y/N”

⚤ he loves when you go shopping or thrifting together. he’ll pick out outfits for you to try, and you do the same for him. the both of you hyping each other up when you come out of the dressing rooms.

“yesss girl, you look so amazing in that dress!”

“says you, i love that shirt on you, it’s definitely your color!”

⚤ he’s a big foodie, and so are you. so breakfast and/or lunch dates are a staple in your friendship. he loves going to your favorite restaurant or cafe to just sit and talk about whatever and whoever. sometimes you like to try out new places and add them to your list.

⚤ he’ll send you flowers or candy on valentine’s day because he’s such a sweetheart, and never wants you to feel alone or unloved.

⚤ he’s always gassing you. he never hesitates to call you pretty or gorgeous, saying how much he loves your outfit, your hair, or your new bag. he’s your number one hype man for sure. you of course, are the same way with him never passing up an opportunity to let him know he’s so handsome and the baddest bitch.

⚤ you’re pretty much the ceo of the nick defense team, always on go when it comes to people being disrespectful towards him.

⚤ he’s basically your personal photographer. he loves taking your pictures for you, and you love to brag about his skills. he loves when you take pictures together as well, adding them to his photo dumps, giving very much bff goals.

⚤ since he doesn’t drive he loves riding with you, he even bought a “passenger princess” sticker to put on your glovebox just for shits and giggles. sometimes you guys would just spend the day riding out, blasting music and singing along, snacking on the random goodies you pick up along the way, just simply enjoying each others company.

“bitches be quick but i’m quicker”

“bitches be thick but i’m thicker”

*both*

“SHE COULD BE RICH BUT IM RICHER!”

⚤ if you’re in a relationship or get into one, he’ll be very protective over you, yet respectful of your relationship. he’ll make friends with them, and try his best to get along for the sake of your friendship. he’ll even plan group outings so you all can hang out together and get to know each other.

⚤ however, the second you call him in the night crying, he’s ubering over to your house to comfort you. he’ll hug you and wipe your tears, reassuring you that you deserve so much better than them.

“you’re amazing and i love you so much, y/n. you didn’t deserve that, and if you want, we can go egg their car right now”

“you get the eggs, i’ll start the car”

“BET!”

⚤ he doesn’t believe in fighting with friends. any arguments between the two of you wouldn’t last very long, you’ll always end up talking things out and laughing about it later.

⚤ he loves to include in the videos, especially any challenges they do like the baking videos. you always get front seat if you’re ever in the car videos, and he makes sure you get to speak.

⚤ he absolutely loves the bond you have with his brothers, and you would tease him about liking one of them solely to get on his nerves:

“matt has been looking really good lately..”

“y/n i swear to god…”

“what?? i’m just being real”

“i’ll actually kill you both”

“bitch, shutttt up! you love me too much”

“you’re right. now stop talking about matt before i throw the fuck up”

⚤ if the stars happen to align where you and one of his brothers fall in love and actually get together, he’ll be so annoyed at first, not willing to share you. eventually he’ll be okay with it, just happy that you both are happy, as long as you keep the pda out of his line of sight.

⚤ he fucking loves your cooking. he knows better than get in your way by trying to help so he’ll sit at the table and watch you. you don’t mind his company at all while you’re cooking, even letting him taste test which he never refuses. he’s constantly calling or texting to see what’s on your menu:

“please please PLEASE tell me you’re cooking tonight. i cannot eat in n out again”

“well, i guess i am now”

⚤ you always have him, matt, and chris over on Sunday’s. you love giving them the ultimate sunday dinner experience. you make sure you cook more than enough so they have some to take home as well.

⚤ any time one of you sees those cute and fun best friend date activities on tik tok or instagram, you’re instantly texting it to one another, making plans to try it out.

⚤ when you take him out to the club or a just night out with the girlies, he’s having the time of his life. he’s hyping you up while you’re dancing and throwing it in a circle. he’ll capture every second to show to you later cause you’re so gone you won’t remember a thing. the next day he’s asking you to teach him how to twerk like that for the next outing.

⚤ since you have similar music taste, you love going to concerts and festivals together. all in coachella with your matching crop tops and boots, turning heads left and right. you two are literally glued to the hip the whole weekend, holding hands and jumping around, dancing to the beat just loving the experience.

⚤ he absolutely loves sleepovers, and he’ll always be the one to suggest them. he’ll have a space for you in his closet and at his sink because of how often you stay over.

“bro is there a reason you called me 15 times??”

“uh is this the body scrub that you use? i’m gonna get it for my bathroom so you don’t have to keep bringing yours every time”

“nick, you really could’ve just tex-“

“YES OR NO??!”

⚤ whenever you sleep over, you always do your nighttime and morning skin routines together. ‘faerie soirée’ playing softly on the portable speaker while you go through your skincare steps, singing along, and swaying your hips to the beat.

⚤ he is obsessed with the different ways you style your hair. his jaw drops every time you pull up with something new. he was completely gobsmacked when you showed up with a 30 inch bust down after just rocking your natural fro, then two weeks later in some knotless braids down to your knees. he’s always asking your opinion on his next hair color, but you beg him to keep his natural hair for a while longer.

⚤ he always waits to get his nails done with you so you both can match. in the days before your appointments with analysse, he’s sending you different ideas he sees on pinterest for you both to choose from only to ultimately decide to just let analysse freestyle.

⚤ when it comes to his brand, space camp, he’s always giving you the sneak peeks. he’ll let you be the first one to try the newest flavor because he trusts your judgment, and knows that you’ll always be honest with him:

“okay, what about this one? did you like it?”

“friend, i ain’t gone hold you…that shit nasty as fuck”

“well damn bitch, tell me how you really feel. okay, we’ll scrap that one”

⚤ he loves when you come to boston with him to visit his family. mary lou and jimmy absolutely adore you, and so does all his hometown friends nate, mckayla, and chloe.

⚤ the snap streaks between you two go crazy. you’re both constantly snapping each other the most random shit.

⚤ he’s always telling you about the guys he’s crushing on or talking to. he’ll ask you if you think they’re cute or not, and wants advice on what to say to them. if they send him nudes, better believe he’s immediately sending them to you for you both to talk (or laugh) about:

“girl you won’t believe what he just sent me”

“ouuu how big is it?”

“bitch, i’ve seen baby carrots bigger than that”

“BLOCKED!”

⚤ on halloween, you guys love to find matching costumes (when he’s not matching with matt and chris) and sometimes the four of you would find costumes to match together.

⚤ on your birthday, don’t be surprised to find yourself plastered all over his story. he’s posting a photo dump of you together with a lil paragraph, going on and on about how amazing his best friend is. you’ll have gifts galore from him, matt, and chris.

⚤ he’s super supportive of whatever you do, helping you in any way you can to achieve whatever it is you need to.

⚤ he’s the perfect best friend and he takes the bond that you have very seriously, never letting anyone or anything jeopardize it.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @nickgetsmewetter @mybelovednick @moonk1ss3d @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo

#mr stromboli #stromboli hc #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #a headcanon #bsf!nick hc

[loveinhawkins]

for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.

#i’m so obsessed with the last days of school as a setting #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : stream hype

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary: based on this ask!!! just a lil blurb where yn gives hamzah and viewers a try on haul during a stream

mickey speaks: ok i did smthg different than the tiktoks for this one but i love writing these & im glad u love them too 😭💗 i need hamzah as my boyfriend like NOWWW

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

hamzah’s streaming in the corner of your shared bedroom when you get home from a day out with your girlfriends

he can hear you make your way through the house before you peek your head into the room with a smile, “hi, i’m home!”

he’s immediately grinning at the sight of you, “heyyy, look who’s back” and motions you to come closer with his hand

he’s not shocked at alllll when you have handfuls of shopping bags with you when you open the door fully

you place them on your bed with a large sigh before coming closer to greet hamzah

he remains seated as you hug; his face tucked into your lower stomach and loving arms wrapped around your hips as you play with the bits of hair peeking from his beanie

he whispers “i missed you” hoping the stream doesn’t catch it since he’s further away from the mic

they totally hear that shit and the chat is flooded with remarks about how cute the two of you are

he pulls away and looks up at you as you talk, “missed you more...do you need me to grab you anything? i’ll probably go watch something and give you a haul whenever you’re done here.”

“no, im good. i won't be on for too much longer”

"m'kay," you nod your head and make sure to greet the viewers before you exit, bending down so you’re in frame and showing off your lovely smile and energy (that hamzah admires in the monitor) “hiiii and byeeee!” you wave and blow a kiss. hamzah’s smile never fades as he watches you.

as soon as you’re gone hamzah reads over the chat, which is full of people begging for you to come back, “seriously??? am i not enough for you guys?”

after a while he gives in and pulls out his phone to call you, showing the camera his screen with your name and photo on it, before putting it on speaker for them to hear

“hi, are you okay?” your smooth voice comes through the scratchy phone audio

“yes, but the people are not. they want you to hang out in here” he smiles and bites his lip in anticipation of your response

“are you lying?”

his face screws up, “why would i lie??”

“well why’d you call instead of yelling for me?? im just in the other room,” you giggle

“because this is fun-er.”

���okay, im coming”

“YOURE WHAT?!”

you hang up and hamzah laughs

★

you have a chair pulled up next to hamzah as you both sit and interact with the chat for a bit

you tell them multiple stories about your shopping trip and he suggests you give everyone a haul

you waste no time getting up to grab your bags from the bed and bring them over to his set up

as you go through and unfold various tops, bottoms, and dresses he adds plenty of commentary and “lemme see”s while holding them in front of his face

“this thing is not gonna cover your ass, are we serious???” he holds up a mini skirt with a laugh

and you grab it from him with a playful shake of your head, “i was gonna wear it for my other boyfriend anyway”

hamzah just stares at you with a smirk until you look back over to him, “what?!” you giggle.

“don’t play with me, girl” he smiles and leans back in his chair, “go ahead and show them the rest”

when you get to a particular dress you just about squeal, “h, you’re gonna looovvveee this one! i almost sent you a pic in the dressing room it’s so perfect.”

“show me, show me!” his eyes are wide now and his mouth spreads into a grin.

you reveal a soft, coconut white dress with leafy ruffles tied into roses (me when my describing skills shut down bc what does this even mean bruh)

“oh wow…” he looks from your glowy face to the dress held beside you and back. “can i see it on you?”

you nod your head, “yeah i took pics at the store,” you go to grab your phone.

he kisses his teeth, “now why would i wanna see some pics when i have you right here??”

you look up at him from your phone and begin to laugh under your breath. you look over to the monitor and your face gives away the joke you’re thinking of, “uh huh, okay. look someone said ‘the sassy man apocalypse has gone too far’” you point to the screen

hamzah looks for a second and then adds to the joke himself, “oh em gee, they’re saying ‘girl go put on that damn dress we wanna see already, with the rolling eye emoji!!!’” he covers his mouth as if he’s shocked, “are you really gonna take that bae??”

you try not to laugh at the pet name he uses, “hamzah whyd someone just say ‘take that fuck ass beanie off your head before you speak on a bad bitch, lil boy’?” you act just as shocked as him, “they’re some haters for real…”

hamzah deadpans and gives a side eye to the camera

★

“okay you can look now” you tell him and he slowly uncovers his eyes.

he immediately pretends to faint at the sight of you in the material that hugs you so perfectly

“oh fuck, my heart- it’s giving out, everything hurts. i can’t- breathe-!” he gives out a breathy monologue and you laugh at him before moving further away from the camera to give the viewers a better view

you turn around and ask them what they think all while hanzah fakes his death nearby

you eventually find a spot across his lap and tap his cheek telling him to be normal

“my bad my bad, i need to lock in.” he exaggerates a shake of his head

“you like it though?”

“of course i like it, look at you!!!!” he points at the both of you in the monitor

“good, i think ill wear it when we go to curaçao”

“that’ll be perfect- can you get up and do another twirl for me please? i missed it”

you pout but when he squeezes your thigh you get up and does as he asks

“guys isn’t she the prettiest??” he gushes

you blush in the form of a large smile and bend down away from him to grab another item to show off, to which he jokingly makes various sexual gestures and faces at your ass that is left pointed towards him

when you turn back around hamzah pretends to adjust a watch, which is actually just him hovering awkwardly over his wrist

#hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x reader #hamzah #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #slushy noobz virus

[moonystoes]

Prom date - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students) pt.3

Summary: It's the day you have been waiting for, except you didn't spend it with your date.

Warning: slight homophobia and bullying (it's paul and his minions smh), too much yap guys im sorry, no kissing nothing it's KILLING ME TOO OKAY? unrealistic corny shit but they're 14 in 2012.

wc: 7.799k

a/n: hey y'all... did you miss me? i want to apologize for this chapter because it's yap and a mess to be honest. but it has been a while since the last time i wrote. i also want to say sorry for the people that were waiting...again, i'm still pretty new to writing, and if you have any advice please help me out!!

Here: part 1 part 2

Wednesday, 19th of december 2012

You were always excited about the idea of prom. The makeup, the dress, the dance, the romantic glances, and obviously the kiss that would be your first. But now the only thing that's on your mind was Elisa.

In these two days, Elisa has been acting slightly differently around you than before. She would give you a small nod of acknowledgement with a small smile or the usual frown. Yet, it still seemed like there was a barrier between the both of you, and talking to each other still felt impossible.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror making sure your ‘picture-smile’ looks good. Sam was next to you, holding a large pink make-up palette with an eyeshadow brush in her other hand.

You hated sleeping in class for one reason, and it's your silly mouth. Whenever you wake up you end up saying something stupid. And based on the way Elisa was looking at you, you knew you had said something dumb at the nurse office that day.

You had tried everything in your power to remember what you said, but nothing had worked.

“Girl it's not that serious, you're acting as if you confessed your love or something.” Sam groaned out, waving the pink powdered brush around. Your eyes widened and turned to look at her, “Sam! Don't say that, she's a girl!”

“So?” She shrugged, dabbing a glittery shade on your eyelids.

“So? You know so. Girls shouldn't like girls like that, don't be stupid.” You frowned, closing your eyes so she can work on your eyelids again.

“Why not? I don’t give a shit.” Sam looked away from your eyelids and stepped away to look at you with a confused glance. Both of you have never discussed anything like this, but she still felt offended thinking that you thought she was against it.

Silence filled the room, your hands playing around with the cheap acrylic nails you glued on. “Really?” You whispered.

“Pfft, yeah. Who cares? We're in highschool now. At least we're not doing drugs.” She laughed. She started tapping a different shade to your eyes, while humming to the song playing on her phone.

“Well, the government does.” You shrugged, your silky straightened hair moving around your shoulder. You felt Sam stop tapping your eyes before she asks, “the government does what?”

“Care. Same sex marriage isn't allowed, that's what I meant.”

“Wait, you searched up about that?” Sam accused you as she stepped away again from your face to glance at you. You opened your eyes in shock as you moved the hair away from your face, “what! No…I just assumed that.”

Sam's face dropped as she gave you a disappointed glance, but your embarrassment made you look down to your sweatpants. You didn't want to admit to Sam that you've search about it, and you also would kill yourself if she finds out about the Quora comment you made.

Sam has already suspected something weird about you this whole school semester, and at first she thought it was about how stressful school is. But she noticed that whenever she talks about Elisa to you, you'd look away and try to make the conversations shorter. What made her realize what's going on is whenever Elisa walks past you, you'd look at her hoping for some reaction. A smile, a nod, even just a glance, you've always hoped Elisa would acknowledge you.

It was when the both of you were sitting at lunch with your two other friends when you brought up her nonchalant responses to you. Lucia and Suzan looked at you confusingly, responding with a ‘she jokes and is really friendly to me’.

Usually you wouldn't care, saying that it's not an obligation to like every person in school and you'd respect her friendships. But when it came to Elisa, you would complain about it everyday to her.

She hoped that you'd speak to her about your newfound crush on Elisa, but you'd always swerve and act dumb whenever she brings Elisa up. However, she understands it's very difficult to come out, especially when you still don't even know what you are in the first place.

So she shrugged and decided to apply blush around your cheeks. After that, you stood and wore your floral dress, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Sam has been talking a little too much, about her new favorite show, the side character she's obsessing over, her new favorite snack, and many things she started blabbering about. When Sam talks too much, it means she's either hiding something from you or is trying to distract you. Both conclusions are awful, so you shook her off and started wearing your jewelry.

Sam's loud mouth slowed down as you stared at your complete reflection. She pulled your hand to sit on the bed before you left to the venue. She held into it and said, “If Paul doesn't treat you well, it doesn't matter okay? You're there to experience your first prom, not your first date with Paul.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands and sighed, feeling like she knew something you don’t. Did Paul say he would ditch me? Does she know about that? She continued, “Besides, you look too good. If he treats you badly, you can literally get anyone else.”

You huffed and looked away from her, “Yeah like who?”

“Every guy. Literally,” She said in a duh tone. She stayed quiet for a second before adding, “probably Elisa too if what they say is true.”

You looked up to look at Sam, “no way, I'm not her type.”

“And how would you know her type?”

You stayed silent and awkwardly shrugged as you looked down. “Amy's probably her type, just like everyone else.”

Sam sighed loudly and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder, “I wish you can see yourself the way these boys do. You're smart, gorgeous, kind, hardworking, and so many more. Amy is cute, yeah… but she's not the whole package.”

You bit your lip trying to suppress your smile,and leaned into her touch. “Thanks, I'll let you know what happens when I come back.”

Sam nodded and stood up, realizing that you're heading out right now. “Is he coming now?”

You turned and looked at her, “who?”

Sam's stomach sank when she realized the situation, she sighed loudly, “oh my God are you actually telling me he's not even taking you there.”

Giving her a forced smile, you stood up and wore your heels. “I don't care about him at this point. I feel like…my crush on him was never real you know. Like… I was attached to the hope of us being close like how we were when we were kids, I wasn't actually hoping for a relationship with him,” you exhaled calmly, “I just want to experience prom, I don't care about the romance part, especially not with him anymore.”

Sam was glad that you were officially over Paul. She knew he wouldn't be a great partner and she wanted what's best for you. But she knew that there was something else. Because for you to get over someone, you'd have to be distracted enough to forget about them. That's how you are.

Sam walked you to the car outside, your parents both standing with a camera to take pictures. You were glad they didn't know about American prom traditions, because it is embarrassing how Paul isn't here to take pictures with you as well as the corsage and flowers.

After the awkward posing, your father got into the car and dropped you off at the huge venue the school rented for today. As you stepped out of the car, fear started brewing in you. You were late because of the long lectures from your parents so the building was filling up already and you were the type of person who would come first to everything.

You hoped you would not find Paul as you took a deep breath and entered the poorly lit room. It was filled with blue decorations, blue foil curtains around the walls and entrance, blue balloons, blue flowers, blue ceilings, everything was either blue or white except the yellow lamps that created a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.

“Hey you're here!” A sudden noise came from behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You turned immediately, finding Paul wearing a classic white and black suit and a red tie. You gave him a fake smile and replied, “yeah I just came here, I hope you're not mad that I'm a bit late.”

Paul gave you a bright smile, the one that makes your anger and disappointment in him slightly fade away, “don't worry, I didn't even notice you weren't with me anyways!”

He grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the tables not realizing the face drop in your face. You didn't know if you should feel offended or just cry, your stomach dropping as you felt slightly sick.

“Hey guys, my date is here.” He pointed at you, introducing you to his friend group. You've known them, they were all in your class and you've talked to them previously.

Adam glanced at you and waved, “you didn't tell us it's y/n!” You looked away from them, trying to hold in your frustration and disappointment. He called you his date and didn't bother to introduce you by your name, but it's okay because you ARE his date. He just called you what you are… you can't get mad at that.

But he didn't even tell them it was you? So he hid the fact he asked you out for the past 2 weeks? You remained facing away from them, hugging your bare arms into yourself as you hoped you could find someone to run and talk to. Adam, Paul and his friends were chatting about video games and football. A part of you wanted to join the football conversation, but you knew they're going to mock you because you're a girl.

So you pulled out your phone and texted Sam a quick update message letting her know that Paul was disappointing just like how the both of you were expecting. You turned it off when you heard Yousef talk about Elisa.

“I can't believe Elisa actually came.” You looked to Yousef, realizing he was facing the food and drinks table. You turned immediately to find where she was. After moments of looking around, you found her standing around the drinks area laughing at something Marie said, her hair neatly styled to the side. You have noticed that Elisa's hair is always styled well, but this time it looks like she took longer to perfect her look. She was wearing the usual black and white suit, except with a pink tie.

You wondered what Marie had said to make her laugh that hard, and you looked around her to check if she had a date. You knew Fleur was recovering from her injury, but what if she brought someone else?

Your gaze was interrupted when you heard Paul mutter something, “No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.” You angrily pushed his hand away from your wrist. Out of all the things Paul did, this was the worst of them. Because he was not hurting you, he was hurting Elisa. Elisa the sweet girl that did nothing wrong to him.

“Y/n come on she can't hear us it's okay.” He pulled you closer as he whispered to you. His soft brown eyes looking at you to let you know how sincere he was. You felt disheartened, this was the guy you had a crush on. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to not cause a scene. You can't behave this way for Elisa, they'll know. Wait…they'll know what? You glanced at Elisa to make sure she didn't hear him, now she's standing alone as Marie and Adam were dancing to the upbeat music playing.

“So just because she can't hear you, it technically means you didn't say it? Paul, you still said it!” You whisper-shouted at him. You exhaled slowly as the anger faded into shame. Shame in thinking he was sweet and precious. Shame in still expecting more from him no matter how much he ignored you.

“What can prove existence y/n? It's for you to have proof of something or remember it. No one can prove what I said to Elise, and she didn't witness it. You know what this means?” You gaped at him in surprise, is he turning this situation into a philosophical study? “What I said doesn't exist in Elise's world. She doesn't know about it, okay?” he held your hand and pulled you into him, leaving his right arm around your shoulder.

Your insides churned as you felt disappointed, not in Paul this time, but in yourself for not letting go of him and defending Elisa. You didn't even have the energy to correct him for saying the wrong name. For now, you're thinking of a plan to stay away from him.

The boys started talking about other stupid topics as Paul's arm remained on you. Instead of listening to them, you focused on Élisa's back as she was standing a few meters away from you. From this angle, it looked like Elisa had a new haircut for today. Her shaved sides looked cleaner, the suit she was wearing was fitting her shoulders so well as if she got it tailored. You glanced back to Paul when you realized you're putting too much focus on her.

You quickly took off Paul’s hand off your shoulder, telling him that you’re going to the bathroom. Your tense muscles started to calm down when you had finally escaped him and his annoying friends. Walking in the dark hallway to somewhere quieter, you decided to stop by the drinking area and get yourself cold water to calm yourself but you were interrupted by someone.

“I thought you were here with Paul?” You turned to the voice and found Elisa pouring herself a sprite, her first two buttons of her shirt were open and the light pink tie was loose. You froze in place as you looked at her this way, the orange hues from the lights hit her left face making her sharp jawline pop and her prominent nose stand out. You sighed quietly as your hands started to shiver, but you couldn’t blame the cold for this one. You know exactly what this is now.

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Elisa’s face changed from frustration to confusion, “who?”

You felt like the first day of school all over again, the unnecessary nervousness consuming you as you folded your arms against your chest, “why do you care?” you snorted and looked at the dancing couples at the new slow music playing.

Elisa figured out that you probably didn't even want to be around her, she was the one that approached you and started this conversation anyways. But why wouldn't you say who Paul was talking about? She has been nicer to you, right? Are you guys friends now?

Elisa froze as she thought back to how she has been treating you since that nurse encounter two days ago. She realized that she was just dramatic for thinking that the way you viewed her changed, a small smile and a nod doesn't make you guys friends. Besides, she was the only one that had reacted differently. Yours were the same, glancing away and looking down.

“You're right, I don't care.” She frustratingly mumbled, turning away from the table and you and pretending to care about the cringey gross couples dancing (she wishes she could have a girl and dance like that).

Your chest ached at the thought that she doesn't care, but you exhaled a breath you were holding when you realized she stopped asking who it was. You also didn't understand why you worded it that way in the first place. Why did you say that you cared about her? You wondered how she'd react if she knew about what happened, and really hoped she wouldn't find out about your new attraction.

You thought back to what Sam said, is it not that bad and you were being dramatic? Your parents were never religious, but they still never showed any sort of awareness about gay people. You thought about how your parents would react if you brought Elisa as your girl, and just the thought of her being yours made you smile.

You needed to accept it, but you didn't know how. So you glanced back at elisa now that you have admitted it to yourself, that you like elisa. Her face was still facing the couples, her hand holding the filled glass as her other hand was folded almost like yours.

“Why pink?”, you stuttered out, hoping to hear Elisa's voice again even if she was glaring from frustration.

“Hmm?” Elisa turned back to look at you with confusion and bent down to hear you. Now that the both of you are standing next to each other, she can see your face clearly and the effort you made for today. The soft pink makeup around your eyelids, the red pouty lips, the straightened hair, and the tight-fitted dress that made her eyes struggle to not look down. And all of this made her heart tighten, because all of this was for Paul. Not for her, for a guy that is a piece of shit and treats you awfully when she can treat you better.

Elisa kept in mind that when she said she can treat you better, she didn't mean it literally. She doesn't like you. In fact, she can't stand you no matter how many sweet interactions you can get into, you'll always be grossed out by her…or maybe you just can't stand to be around her for some reason (she has one in mind). She just said that theoretically, if Elisa had a girl, she would’ve treated her way better than that stupid guy.

“The tie,” you shakenly point at her tie as you avoided eye contact, “why the color pink?” Your mind started filling up with many thoughts, on why you even thought of this question, or what if she thinks you were mocking her outfit? You could’ve said anything else to start a conversation. You were never like this, you were socially bubbly and knew exactly what to say in situations. Why are you suddenly behaving this awkwardly?

It seemed as if Elisa had forgotten what she was wearing the way she looked down to look at the tie you were talking about. She stood up straighter and thought for a second. Normally Elisa would feel somewhat offended by the question, but she knew you meant no harm in asking and you looked like you were just curious, “to show people that at the end of the day I am still a girl.”

You stayed silent for a moment, confused by the response she just gave you, “but… pink is just a color I mean… how does that even, you know what? Nevermind.” You cringed out at the way you spoke to her. You should’ve just stayed quiet, especially by the way Elisa is side-eyeing you right now.

She cracked a smile when she saw your panic, “I know, I’m just kidding,” She turned around, now her front is facing the table edge on your right. She rested her hands on the edge as she leaned closer to you, making you lean back to the point where your butt is almost on top of the table. “I actually bought this awhile ago when I thought Fleur was coming with me before she injured herself.”

“Oh,” you looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the table, “so I’m assuming Fleur was meant to wear pink, right?”

She nodded, but before she responded you screeched out when you realized the music changed, “Woah, not this song!” She looked at you confusedly as you jumped off the table and looked around you embarrassed, “sorry I don’t even know why I did that. This is my favorite song of all time and I kinda got excited.”

Elisa laughed awkwardly, looking around the same direction as you to see what you’re looking for. But her eyes froze when she noticed it was Paul, and he was also looking around possibly for you. You knew Paul was looking for you, because no matter how many things he forgot about you, your love for this song is unforgettable.

You turned your glance to Elisa, realizing she’s also looking at Paul, “hey, I don’t want him to see me…he’ll probably try and get me to dance with him but I can’t even stand him after what he did today.”

“Umm… So do you want me to cover you or what?” she scrunched her face in confusion as she opened her suit jacket in a way to try and hide you from anyone behind her, including paul.

You were stunned for a moment, gaping at her before bursting out from laughter. For a second, you forgot about the fact you were trying to hide from Paul as you saw Elisa's pink flushed cheeks seeing you laughing at her awfully failed attempt. But you were thankful nonetheless, “I don't think this would cover me completely but thank you.”

She slowly returned the jacket back around her waist, buttoning the first button and turning around to check for Paul again. Elisa knew her face was probably red and burning, but in her defense, what was she supposed to do? She tried not to face you until her face cools down a bit so she tried to look for ‘Voldemort’ again. When she saw him, she smiled. Paul had stopped looking around and concluded that you probably was still in the bathroom. So now Elisa knew that Paul won't have to treat you like shit, “damn how much do you like this song that he even noticed you were gone?”

“Um… I used to sing it all the time back when we used to hang out together. The obsession was intense.” You suddenly felt so pathetic for your crazy obsession, but when you looked up to see Elisa, she had a fond smile.

“Yeah, I get it. I had a crazy obsession with one video game to the point where Fleur and Marie avoided me because I kept talking about it.”

You glanced back and saw Paul talking to Amy. And right now, you were glad that he was talking to her. Because you can just spend your time talking with Elisa and he won't even think about you.

“If I was really drunk and no one was around, I would be dancing right now.” You mumbled, frowning as you were humming the song. Elisa giggled at your comment, she took a step to the dark hallway and pointed to the place next to her.

“No one is going to look here.” Elisa's voice came out way more unsteady than she had expected. It's not like she's asking you to dance with her, she just wanted you to feel comfortable and enjoy prom. And it's your favorite song, anyone would want to dance to their favorite song without judgment, right?

You sighed as you looked down to cover your blushing face. Although your face doesn't usually turn red, it does show somehow that you're ‘blushing’... well, that's what Sam says when you do anyways. Is Elisa asking to dance with you? There is no way that's what she meant, you had just admitted your crush on her to yourself and now she wants to dance with you, is this a dream?

Besides, she doesn't like you. Her little nods and glances mean nothing. What if she talks bad about you to her friends, maybe that's why she glances at you… to find something to talk about. But as you looked up to Elisa, her face contorted to a stressful frown and you had just realized that she probably thinks that you're rejecting her.

“Okay,” you gave her a small smile as you walked towards her to the unlit hallway. Elisa gave you the same soft smile, her cheeks turning pink. In her head, a million thoughts are running through her head. Is she about to have a girl dancing with her like the couples she just called gross and cringey? Were you actually going to dance with a girl? Elisa thought you were against that, she thought you wouldn’t even accept the idea of being around her.

But right as you stepped near her, the music abruptly stopped making the both of you groan and slack your shoulders. “Are you serious? I didn't even get to enjoy the best part.” You talked under your breath as you awkwardly stepped away from Elisa, realizing you were getting a bit too close to her.

Elisa was frustrated as much as you. She actually didn't give a damn about the song, but the thought of her dancing with you in your cute dress and bright smile made her pray that the song would be playing for a whole hour if possible. But she had to remind herself that she didn't necessarily want to dance with you specifically, she just wanted a girl in her arms, any girl. Or maybe that's one way of trying to convince herself.

A loud voice from the speakers echoed through the venue, “hey everyone, I am Michael and sorry to interrupt your dance, but we will reveal prom king and prom queen now. You were able to vote for the contestants for the whole past month. And now, we have the list. For prom kings, we have me, Paul Badosa, and Adam Nuñes. For prom queens, we have y/n l/n, Amy Moreau, and Jasmine Ali,” You turned to look at Elisa with a look of distress. If Paul and you win, you would have to dance in front of everyone. You didn’t want to be around Paul, and just the thought of his hands around your waist gave you goosebumps…and not the good kind. “Drum roll please… the winners are Paul Badosa and y/n l/n, congratulations! And please come to the front for the crown and the dance.”

Elisa was praying for you not to win it when she heard Paul's name. But now she realized that you need help escaping this place before they try to look for you. She turned to look at your anxious face and tapped your bare shoulder, pointing to the small neon ‘exit’ sign on the end of the pitch black hallway. You gratefully nodded and walked to that door, knowing that if you decided to run you would either trip or your heels would make too much noise. You can hear the students calling out your name and looking for you, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to dance with Paul, everything would be uncomfortable.

Once you delicately and slowly opened the door, you turned around to thank Elisa. But you didn’t expect her to be this close, your face almost bumping into her chest. You stumbled backwards from the shock, and Elisa wrapped her arm around your waist before you dropped. From the sudden surprise and fear of falling, you wrapped your arms around Elisa's shoulder, trying to find balance on your uncomfortable heels.

For a moment, the both of you froze clinging into each other. Elisa slowly stepped forward, making sure the both of you are completely outside so the students don't find you… especially in this sort of position with her. You didn't want to let go of her so you pretended to struggle with your heels. Embarrassment started filling Elisa when she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and she closed her eyes begging that you can't feel it against your chest.

You were the first to let go; you were afraid if she noticed something different with the way you were behaving or if she was uncomfortable with the way you were clinging onto her. Elisa's focus was nowhere near you, she was trying to calm her gay heart. Obviously, she had hugged girls before. But it was you, in a cute dress, in a party, clinging into her… that's different.

The both of you were avoiding each other's eyes while trying to calm down, you looked at the door behind Elisa to make sure it's closed and decided to ask, “why didn't you stay? It's prom and you should enjoy it.”

“And you're going home alone? You don't even have a ride and it's dark outside, it's not right.”

You sighed gratefully, pulling out your phone to look at how far is the venue from your house. Surprisingly, it was just a 20 minute walk. And although this may seem too far away, you knew it wouldn't be that bad.

You refused to call your parents to pick you up from here. You didn't want them to know that Paul had basically ditched you and humiliated you and Elisa around his friends. You felt shame knowing what happened, even if it wasn't your fault. It's embarrassing to not celebrate prom and leave early… especially when you were the ‘popular’ student in class.

“It's okay Elisa, the venue isn't far off from my house.” You opened Google maps for you to follow the steps.

“Y/n it's still 8 at night, why don't you contact your dad to take you the same way he dropped you off?” Elisa blurted out. She was worried about you walking alone, another reason to hate on the inconsiderate idiot Paul. She also hoped that you didn't notice that she knew how you came to the venue, not wanting to admit to you that she was eyeing all the way from the outside when you came through the open entrance.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting her to know the reason why you would rather walk in heels for 20 minutes rather than contacting your parents. You groaned, “I just don't want them to know I left early, they're going to ask me all about it.”

From your frustrated tone, Elisa understood exactly why. She stepped forward and pointed to the sidewalk, hoping you would lead the way to your house.

“Elisa, I'm sorry.” Your features suddenly contracted into a pout, remembering how stubborn Elisa is and how she would never accept a ‘no’ response.

“Y/n, it's okay. It's not like I was enjoying looking at couples dancing and wishing I was in one,” She exhales, “Besides, the only reason why I came here is because I promised Fleur.”

She stepped forward again, turning around to face you and waving her arm over. Elisa felt that she may have been sounding desperate, but it's okay right? It's not like you were uncomfortable with her walking you home. You seem more relaxed around her, and maybe her assumptions about you were false. She saw the soft grateful smile on your face as you followed her, holding up your phone to follow the map.

It was a blissful silence between you guys for a short while. Both secretly enjoy each other's company while also panicking on what to say. You bit into your lip as you prayed that you'd stop shaking from the chilly weather, goosebumps all over your arms. It's the south of France in December, and you're just wearing a dress.

Elisa turned to look at your phone to see where the both of you should go after the turn, but she noticed your fingers shivering as you were grasping your phone. Her body stiffened, realizing that it’s her duty now to protect you from the cold. She wanted to impress you, but she also wanted to take care of you, suddenly feeling protective of you and your health. Elisa’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and she slowed down from walking to remove it.

Elisa wasn’t aware that you were also glancing at her. The moonlight made her look like she came from an anime. Because there is not a single actress that can portray the angelic scenery in front of you. Your eyes traced her neck and collarbone from your view, and you didn’t notice Elisa had slowed down until it started to become difficult for you to shamelessly stare at her without turning your neck.

When Elisa stopped, you copied her and decided to wait for her. Until you realized that she had removed her jacket and is handing it to you. Elisa was breathing heavily, her lips between her teeth as she waited for you to take it. She was afraid that you would see this gesture as ‘weird’. But when she saw you grin at her as your hand accepted the jacket, her shoulders loosened up and she confidently walked again. Elisa prayed that you can’t see the panic in the way she’s walking, she wanted you to view her as calm and collected.

But you weren’t even thinking of the way she was standing or walking right now, you were a blushing mess at the sweet action. You followed her to thank her, “thanks, but you probably need it more than me.” You were still holding onto it, refusing to wear it.

“No, it’s okay! I’m wearing two layers beneath this,” she shook her head as she pointed at her dress shirt, “I promise I came prepared.”

You grinned brightly, lifting the large jacket and wearing it. The sleeves were reaching your fingertips, and the edge of the jacket had reached even below your butt. You buttoned all three of the buttons, accepting anything that can keep you warm in the winter wind.

Elisa was eyeing you from the corner of her eyes. She tried to mask the pink of her cheeks when she saw how big the jacket looked on you. She was aware that she is taller than most girls, but it’s difficult for her to notice that when she is lanky and skinny. Seeing you swim in her jacket made her smile in pride, and also because she thought you looked adorable that way, in her jacket under the streetlight.

“Wow… so you were planning to give your jacket to another girl, I see.” You sarcastically accused her as you nudged her shoulder. She bit her lip as she looked away, “no, that's not what I meant! I just…it was cold so-”

“I know, I'm joking.” You giggled when you saw her stammer. She nodded at what you said and stayed quiet, stuffing her clammy hands into her pockets.

You glanced back at the screen of your phone, realizing there is only a minute left before you reach home. You glanced back to Élisa and asked, “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this. Even when you said you didn't even want to stay there, I still feel rude dragging you out,” You smiled at her, hoping that she'd accept the offer you'll make, “Do you want to come over and have dinner with me?... and my family of course they'd be grateful to meet the person that walked me home.”

Elisa's eyes widened at the thought of your parents seeing her. She immediately declined, “no it's all okay actually, thanks.” She gave you a respectful smile, hoping you wouldn't take offense in her refusal. But she can see the embarrassment and the way your lips frowned, and now guilt is filling her heart. She didn't mean to make you sad, she was just worried about how your parents would react when they see her.

You shrugged her response off, hoping she can't read the disappointment in your face. Your parents taught you that if someone helped you, you have to offer them something back in gratitude. Whether it's candy, dinner, gifts, etc. So for Elisa to leave prom and walk you home, you felt the need to give her something back.

“This is my house, it's pretty small but I'm an only child so…” you pointed at the house when you spotted it as you turned to Elisa, “I want to give you something since you aren't coming in. Can you wait?”

Elisa nodded eagerly as a response. She felt like she couldn't breathe this whole walk with you, and she knew she needed a small break to recover from what happened the whole day. She saw you step inside the house wearing her jacket, she screeched when she realized your family will see you with it, “wait!”

But you had already stepped inside and you found both of your parents in the dining room eating dinner. They saw you and gave you a smile, “Hey, how was it?”

“Good. Mama, where did you put those fancy chocolates?”

Your father didn't say anything, he was only staring at the oversized suit jacket you were wearing.

“Ohhh, is it for Paul?” Your mom winked at you, her left hand pointing at the kitchen cabinet.

You sighed in frustration, not knowing what to say. If you said no, they'll ask who. And Elisa clearly doesn't want your parents to know her, and you also don't want your parents to question everything that happened with Paul.

So you didn't respond and grabbed the box of candy. But when your hands reached out for it, you noticed the suit jacket. Shit! Your parents would definitely question everything because of this.

You ran quickly outside, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

While you were away, Elisa was scanning your house out of curiosity. When she looked up to the lit bedroom upstairs, she noticed a shadow staring outside directly at her. She nearly jumped from it, closing her eyes in embarrassment. But who would that shadow be? She saw a glimpse of your parents when you opened the door, and you are an only child.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up again, but the shadow wasn't there anymore. As she tried to take a step forward to see it from another angle, you opened the door.

She flinched and looked back at you, “oh, hi! Hi again…”

You looked at her strangely and smiled, “I didn't want you to go home with nothing, thank you.” You handed her the box of chocolate.

Elisa looked at the box, it was her favorite holiday chocolate. She isn't allowed to eat them at all because they were expensive and prestigious, only for special occasions.

“Oh wow, are you sure?” She hesitantly held out her hands to take it.

“Yes, and also this.” You passed the box to her and removed her jacket, handing it to her too.

Elisa was stunned for a moment, the warm outdoor lamp your house had made the scene in front of her look straight from a movie. The way your hair danced around your shoulders, the way you were removing her jacket. She quietly accepted it, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

You turned around to open your door, giving her a small wave and closed it behind you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping your parents won't barge in and ask you a million questions. When they didn't, you sneakily walked on the stairs to your room, but what you saw made you scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK SAM!” You almost tripped down the stairs from your heels. Sam was on the top of the stairs with a sly smirk, she had seen the whole encounter of you and Elisa. She was surprised to see you hand out those chocolates, because you refused to give her a piece of them from how special they are to you. So why did you give them to Elisa? She also saw the jacket exchange, and the way Elisa was standing there admiring you.

You took a deep breath, turning around to glance at your parents to see if they heard you. Your dad gave you a disappointed glance, and your mom showed you a hand gesture that means ‘wait’ (which means you're basically fucked but she can't do anything since your friend was there).

Sam pulled your arm and dragged you to your room, she shut the door with the key and jumped on your bed, “how was prom with Paul?”

You awkwardly walked towards your closet, pulling out a pajama set as you thought of a way to respond, “um… did you not see my message?”

“Oh I saw it,” she replied, “I was just wondering if he redeemed himself at the end? I heard that you won prom queen, but I don't see you with the tiara.”

You turned to look at her, “can you leave so I can change?”

She nodded and left the room. She was waiting for you to say what happened, she still didn't understand how you came home with Elisa while also wearing her jacket. She hoped you'd be honest and tell her the truth. Sam had gotten 3 calls from Paul asking where you went, he said he was embarrassed that you had ditched him and how he had to receive the crown alone. He also asked where were you, but she didn't have an answer to that, she didn't know either. And when she tried to call and text, it seemed as though you were ignoring her (now she thinks you were too busy with Elisa).

You opened the door to your room as your left hand was wiping the makeup on your face, “I'm too tired to speak, but I basically ran away ‘cuz I didn't want to be around Paul.”

“And who dropped you home? Did you get a ride?” Sam was pretending as if she didn't see you outside, and you glanced at her weirdly. Did she see us? Would Elisa be okay if Sam knew about this? It was nothing, right? She was just being a kind person.

“No, I didn't get any rides.” You responded, the third makeup wipe is now stained black from the mascara.

“Yeah no ride because she doesn't have a dick.” She snorted as she snacked on the barbecue flavored chips.

Your hands stopped rubbing your eyes as you turned to look at her with an open mouth, “Sam! What even was that?”

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Elisa ran away together? I thought we were besties.” Sam had tried so hard to not be hurt by this, but the both of you were friends for a while. And she thought you liked her by now to tell her everything. She understood why you wouldn't tell her about your crush, but why not tell her about this? Aren't you both friends?

“Sam, you are my best friend… I was just worried you'd see it differently.” You exhaled as you sat down next to her, holding her hand now that you've cleaned your face.

“See it like what?” She knew what you meant, but she needed you to say it out loud, maybe then it will be easier for you to speak about your feelings out loud.

“Sam… you brought up me looking pretty enough to attract Elisa, and I thought that maybe you would make jokes when you find out that she walked me home.” You looked down at your bare feet, they were sore from all the walking you've done tonight and you just need a rest.

“Okay… I'm sorry I did make jokes, but I just wanna know what happened for you to even gift her those chocolates!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a nearby pillow, “She left prom to walk me home! That's the least I could've done.”

She laid in your bed, removing the covers to get cozy. “And she gave you her jacket, she's really sweet you know? She's just a little awkward around you.” She can feel herself dozing off as she mumbled.

“Well, that's the reason why I don't think she likes me…But Sam, today I was really happy,” You smiled as you thought about what happened today, “She did everything she can to make me feel safe and comfortable.”

You laid next to Sam and waited for her response, but you could hear her light snores and she turned around to pull you into her, just how the both of you usually cuddle in sleepovers.

You couldn't sleep, just smiling at what happened with Elisa.

“Shit! Did she walk home alone?!” You shrieked as you stood up and took your phone from the bedside table, but you froze when you realized that you didn't have any of Elisa's socials. You went to Facebook and searched up her name. You stumbled on around 15 accounts until you found an account with a username ‘delameida5elel’ and the picture was Elisa holding a football with Fleur and Marie. You pressed on it and found a recent post,

Prom would've been better if I knew how to socialize around pretty girls :((

You froze, reading the sentence over and over to check if your eyes were fooling you. Elisa actually likes girls? And what does she mean it would've been better if she knew how to socialize around pretty girls? Is she saying that today wasn't good and she wanted to talk to actual pretty girls? Elisa didn't have fun today with you and hoped she'd be with pretty girls, unlike you.

Your happy spirits suddenly went down feeling like a sad deflated balloon. At least she's home safely or else she wouldn't post that.

You threw the phone at the table nearby and laid stiffly back. Sam's arms came back around you, but you pushed them away and shuffled all the way to the end of the bed and turned away from her.

I fucked up.

----

~does your mom ever pull the italian hand and you panic and pray?

~Google maps app was created just 6 days before prom😝

guys let me know what you think i need to hear your thoughts

#elisa de almeida #élisa de almeida #woso x reader #elisa de almedia fluff #elisa de almeida x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #nel's writings #psg feminines x reader #fanfics #woso #woso imagine #nel recommends fanfiction

[teenytinyjimin]

snow day (k. seokjin)

summary: being snowed in isn't always the most fun, but when you're stuck with the love of your life, there's very little you can complain about.

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 1.7k

tags: fluff, romance, winter fic, lots of cuddles (it's cold, what else are you meant to do?), chef!seokjin (as expected), teasing (in the lighthearted and romantic way), kisses!!!!! lots of kisses!!!!!

warnings: none! enjoy some sweet fluff!

author’s note: hey guys!! finals are this week (bleh) and then i’ll be on vacation two-ish weeks from now so i won’t be posting a lot i’m afraid :( i’ll plan to have another fic out by tuesday next week and then i probably won’t post again for a week or two after that. hope yall enjoy what i make in the meantime but im sorry it won’t be a lot :(

anyway, this is dedicated to @kskskskskskskskss i hope you enjoy my love <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

There was no doubt that winter was your favorite season. Despite the gloom it tended to cast across your cozy town tucked into middle-of-nowhere Korea, it was always wintertime when its true beauty shone. The glimmering streetlights making the snow look like glitter falling from the sky was one of the most beautiful sights, especially on days when the sun was struggling to peek through the clouds and left the town dim.

Alas, the beauty of the snow on this particular day didn't take away the fact that it was completely snowing you in, to the point where you were afraid that opening the front door would cause a mountain of white powder to fall into the entryway of your warm abode. Actually, you were more than willing to leave the house and go enjoy the beauty of winter, it was just your boyfriend, who is too overprotective for his own good, who persuaded you into not leaving and just enjoying it from the comfort of your own home.

So here you were, peacefully obliging to your darling Seokjin's wishes to stay inside. If you were to choose between the snow outside and the love of your life, it would be him a million times over again. So at the cost of not making snow angels, you were instead sprawled across the couch, cuddled into a cozy blanket with your eyes shut as you listened to the sounds of him cooking in the kitchen. You weren't quite sure what he was making, but you knew it had to be good because nothing he ever made was anything less than perfect.

The only other thing you could have wished for in this very moment was to be in front of a crackling fireplace – that would have made this snow day beyond extraordinary. But alas the heat radiating from the furnaces spread out throughout the house would have to be good enough for now. Wishful thinking, you thought. Maybe one day we can live in a nice little home with a beautiful fireplace.

"Alright, you ready for some absolutely incredible kimchi jjigae?!" Jin called from the kitchen, his voice enthusiastic and bright. Mm. Kimchi jjigae. Your mouth was practically watering just at the thought of the delicious stew. However, your body wasn't as enthused at the thought of having to move from the comfort of the couch.

You let out a groan. "Mmh, can't move," You sighed in frustration, pulling the blanket over your head so that you could bury yourself into an even deeper state of comfort. This was followed by silence except for the sound of a few dishes clinking, before you heard a pair of footsteps come your way. "Come, dear, you need to eat,” Seokjin said softly, nudging you with a gentle hand. You refused to pull the blanket down from your face and remained silent, causing your partner to let out a deep sigh. "Alright, I'll just eat it all myself. More for me."

The last sentence set you off as you let out a desperate and breathy whine. You wanted to eat, you did, but that involved sacrificing the state of bliss you were currently in. Silence ensued yet again for a couple of minutes, to the point where you couldn't even hear your own breathing, before you were suddenly lifted off of the couch, blanket and all, and into Jin's arms. Letting out a squeal, you pulled the blanket down from your face to look up at him, his beautiful features a mere couple inches from your own as he now had you lifted up in bridal style.

Rather than wrapping your arms around his neck for support, you decided to drape yourself over him like a limp doll, causing the silliest of smiles to creep onto his face. "You know, I can carry you to the kitchen with no problem like this, but I'm not going to feed you like a baby. Even though you're cute like one." Ignoring his words, you let out a deep sigh, inhaling the scents that flooded the house. "It smells amazing in here. If I were to die right now, I'd be completely happy."

As you arrived at the kitchen, Jin pulled out one of the dining chairs with his leg and propped you onto it, giving you a soft kiss on your nose before bringing you a bowl of jjigae. "Please don't do that. I need you to clean the dishes." Letting out a gasp, you glared at your boyfriend, who appeared to be pretty proud of his last statement. "Excuse me? Is that all you take me for?" You asked, feigning offense. As he pulled the chair next to you out and sat himself in it, he grinned and shrugged. "Well, you're also a good girlfriend."

"With that attitude, you might as well call the couch your bed for tonight. And you'll be doing the dishes." As you went to go scoop up your first bite of jjigae, you were stopped by a swift hand that took the bowl away from you. You let out a shocked noise as you looked over to Jin, who had absolutely no intention of giving you the food back. "Looks like I was right about there being more for me," He said, beginning to playfully spoon at your bowl.

"Hey! No, I'm sorry," You tried to bargain with him, even going as far as to give him puppy eyes. When it came to food, you did not mess around, and you were ready to take everything you said back if it meant that you'd still be able to eat. As you watched him take a spoonful of your portion into his mouth, you let out a pleading whine. He looked over at you with confusion, pretending that he didn't hear a word you said. "Huh?" He asked. "Sorry, did you say something? I was enjoying my jjigae."

"Give me my bowl back," You insisted, no longer playing around. If this went on any longer, you'd be declaring war. Smug look on his face, he pretended to innocently tilt his head. "I'm going to need something in return…” He said, his voice trailing off towards the end as he continued to spoon at your jjigae. You knew exactly what he was asking for and unfortunately there was no way that you were going to get that food back unless you gave it to him.

Letting out a soft sigh, you reached over to caress his cheek and guide his face towards yours before planting a soft kiss to his lips. And then another. But just as you were about to pull away and kindly ask for your food back he grabbed your face and pulled you in again for a gazillion more kisses. Squealing between each one, you attempted to playfully push him away but he just kept going, kissing your lips, and then your forehead, and then your cheek, and then back to your lips again, all the while a bright red blush creeping to your cheeks.

“J… Jin! The jjigae will get cold!” You finally got out, successfully pushing him away. He let out a defeated (and quite sad) sigh as he pushed your bowl back to you and returned to his own. “I could’ve reheated it…” He muttered, but you shushed him with a firm squeeze to his knee from under the table as you both began to dig in to the delicious meal.

Following the initial playful moment that you two shared during your meal, the food was nothing short of amazing and you both thoroughly enjoyed your dinner ‘date’. After every couple of bites you never failed to compliment Seokjin on his incredible cooking, each and every time resulting in a shy giggle erupting from his throat. He never knew what to say when you complimented him – although his confidence was never bad, hearing such high words of praise coming from the love of his life never failed to make him timid and unable to react. It was the fact that he saw you as absolutely perfect that made him unable to comprehend how you could feel the same about him, because hearing such kind and honest words come from someone he’s head over heels for is like hearing the sweetest song in the world.

After you took the time to clean up the dishes your chef used to create such a fantastic meal, you found yourselves flopped down onto the couch. With two bodies plus the blanket that was previously covering you before dinner, it was simply impossible to see which limb belonged to whom because you were tangled up with one another. The only thing that mattered to you, though, was that you felt safe, loved, and extremely cozy.

"I don't think I'll be moving anytime soon," You huffed out, head on your boyfriend's chest. "I can hardly breathe with the amount of food in my stomach right now." Letting out a satisfied hum, Jin brought a hand to your head as he gently brushed through your hair with his fingers. You felt him move slightly as he turned to look out the window and you did the same, admiring the snow that continued to fall outside. "It really is pretty," You commented, taking a deep breath as you not only tried to make yourself feel slightly more comfortable but also took in your lover's scent. "Never as pretty as you." Jin hummed without skipping a beat. "Plus it's cold. You're warm. Warm is always better."

"Are you telling me you'd rather be warm than cold?" You asked. In your mind, being too warm was a lot more unbearable than being too cold. As you felt Jin wrap his arms around you and give you a tight squeeze, he sighed. "No no, being cold is better. Because that means I can warm up by cuddling with you. The best cuddler there ever was." You let out a soft giggle as you buried your face deeper into his chest and he tightened the grip he had on you. It didn't feel too tight or restrictive in any way, shape, or form – being so tightly wrapped in his arms felt more comforting than anything else in the world.

"Thank you for spending the day with me," You mumbled into his shirt as you felt his lips gently kiss the top of your head. "There's nothing else I'd rather do, my love."

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts jin #bts seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fluff #jin fluff #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #fanfic #fluff

[sea-owl]

Oh no sorry not the isekai AU. The AU where due to circumstances each of the Bridgerton’s lost their loves. An example I think Daphne lost Simon because she was too late to the dual and Anthony shot him in the shoulder. Simon left the country after that. All the Bridgerton’s lost their partners in similar ways (Anthony married Edwina and Kate left to go back to India, Penelope vanished after Colin found out she was Lady Whistledown etc.). Then somehow the siblings traveled back in time to Daphne’s entrance to society. I was thinking what if instead of keeping a cool head about everything and thinking about how they are going to approach their true loves slowly instead the siblings just snap.

I'm so sorry anon but I really don't know which au this is. It sounds like a good au, but if I wrote it out I can't find it. I have the vaguest guess but im unsure if it was one of mine or someone else's, but I have the vaguest memory of an ask that included a part that said Simon gifting Daphne a piece of jewelry that was actually an heirloom passed down to all Duchesses of Hastings before he left England but she was getting married to the prince instead. Again I don't know if that one was mine or someone else's, I feel like it might be @thekatebridgerton but I'm not 100% sure.

But we can start a new one!

So let's start with the bad endings.

Saphne: For this one I'm thinking the duel happened just a bit earlier. Anthony and Benedict knew that Daphne would go to Colin to get any information so they purposely gave him the wrong time for the duel. This led to Daphne arriving after Simon losing the duel and getting shot in the shoulder. Daphne tried to chase after him but her brothers dragged her home instead. Per their agreement Simon left the country after that. Daphne did end up getting married to the prince but she was never truly happy in that marriage, she was content at best with a few moment of happiness with her children here and there. She never did fall in love with the prince, and moving so far from her family did make things harder at times but like most things in her life Daphne learned to adapt to the cards that were handed to her.

Kathony: Anthony and Kate could never let themselves stop putting duty first. Anthony could also never get over his fear of dying young. In the end Anthony had married Edwina and Kate had left back to India. During their marriage Edwina and Anthony were cordial at best but when Edwina heard of her sister leaving a part of her blamed herself and another part blamed Anthony. They both did their duty and had one son, but after that they both came to an agreement where they would find pleasure and possibly happiness outside the marriage. So long as they were discreet. Edwina had met her true love in one scholarly Mr. Bagwell who she would later remarry once she was widowed. Anthony threw himself even further into the role as the viscount, though there were times he would look while ridding to see if a familiar rider would appear out of the mist just like she did all those years ago. Kate on her side did return to India and cut contact from her family. She bounced around from governess job to governess job, keeping herself busy so she does not dwell on thoughts of the past, and people she loves but would prefer not to remember for her own emotional sake.

Benophie: The news of Sophie's arrest had been brought to Benedict's attention later that day. Had he been a little bit faster, or had the news got to him just a little bit sooner, he would have been there when Posy took the blame for the item Sophie was said to have stolen. Araminta, who was losing control over both Sophie and Posy did not like that and both ended up getting sent to Australia where they stayed after their sentence was done. While they could have gone back to England if they raised the money for it neither wanted to risk facing Araminta again. They ended up changing their names when starting over. Benedict always kept a close eye on any news of former convicts returning to England. Praying any of them will lead him back to Sophie.

Polin: Things were getting heated on both sides of Penelope's life. The hunt for Lady Whistledown continued, becoming even more intense. More guards were haunting the print shop where she used to go, and she has heard more than one whisper of spies keeping eyes out in ballrooms. Meanwhile as Penelope someone had found out about her Irish Catholic heritage from Portia's side. Prudence and Philippa were spared due to them being married already and Felicity was still young enough they could hide her away until it blew over but Penelope and Portia took the hardest blow. Despite the fact that Portia converted years ago for her survival and Penelope was never raised catholic. To be honest she should not have been that surprised when Colin finally caught her in that church, dressed as a maid. They argued, screamed at one another, which turned into a very intense kiss. After Colin said he needed to think. Penelope had thought he hated her now and surely he would turn her in? Colin legit just needed a moment to think, he was given a lot of information in one day, and he was already protective over Penelope when news other family broke out, now it was just intensified. He was going to propose marriage the next day. What Colin did not know that the column Penelope was going to send out would be her last one. She later disappeared into the night, and he spent years looking all over the world for her, chasing down any lead, not knowing that she had hidden herself away in America.

Philoise: After her conversation with Anthony, Eloise lets her fear of commitment win and decides to return to London without marrying. Phillip takes the rejection gracefully, quoting that he did invite her to see if they suit. They did not, and he was not going to push her. Eloise's heart broke, though, when the twins asked why she was leaving tears in their eyes. In London, life continued on, Eloise found things to occupy her time, movements that she wanted to help move forward, and while she enjoyed pushing for change, she still felt her life was rafher lonely. She was never truly happy in London, never was, and often found herself itching to run just like when she was younger. Then, one day, many years later, during a society event, she would rather not be at a Sir Crane was announced. Eloise was taken aback because her Sir Crane wouldn't be caught dead in London. And it wasn't her Sir Crane, rather it the son of her Sir Crane. Oliver didn't say much to Eloise but did stop by to call on her the next day. He gave her a bouquet of medow cranesbill. "A final gift from my father," Oliver told her.

Franchael: After the death of John, both Francesca and Michael had mental breakdowns. All Michael could think to do was run while Francesca dug her heels in at Kilmartin estate and kept it running. When they reunited years later, both refused to talk about John and what happened to their friendship, despite the fact that's what they needed to do. Being reunited, Francesca became aware of this sexual tension that has been simmering between her and Michael. Still upset that her husband and unborn child were taken from her, she found herself wanting to walk down a wicked path. Well widows are more ignored by society so why doesn't she have some fun? She falls into bed with Michael. They still don't talk. Not only is Francesca discovering her physical intrest in Michael but some feelings she rather ignore are emerging too. They still don't talk. Francesca discovers that Michael has malaria and has attacks from it every so often. They still won't talk. One of these attacks ends up taking Michael's life and Francesca ends up right back where she was all those years ago. The man she loves is dead and she's pregnant. Only this time Francesca has to hide away, but her baby makes it. Thanks to Janet and Helen they organize papers so the boy is considered legitimate and the new earl of Kilmartin. Francesca loves her son sometimes she wishes his father were there so she could tell him she loved him too.

All the siblings have regrets in their lives by the time they pass on. None of them ever really found that love match Violet used to describe what she had with Edmund. Oh, they had their great loves, despite how fleeting they were. Some did marry, some chose to remain unwed. But none of them expected to wake up on their past selves bodies. After poking around they discovered the year is 1813, Daphne is in her on third year in the marriage mart and the Duke of Hastings has just passed, leaving his title to his only son.

Several thoughts hit at once.

Simon was due to return to England soon. Kate would follow a year later. Sophie was currently trapped with Araminta. Penelope was debuting this year. Phillip was currently at Cambridge. Michael was in the army.

Their loves were so close. They lost them once but never again.

#look if i'm coming up with bad endings i'm gonna go with the worst case scenario my mind can think of that don't fall into certain areas #gotta give a reason for them to snap #I'm unsure for the others if someone wants to do their bad endings be my guest #bad endings au #second change au #bridgerton #polin #kathony #benophie #philoise #franchel #saphne

[lolathestoryteller]

mission (im)possible (April 30th prompt; Rational) @jilymicrofics

Lily shares a quick look with James, both of them now seated at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, facing their son.

Their almost seventeen years old son.

“So…what’s up Snitch?” James asks, and as always, he seems perfectly able to keep his grin on, although Lily knows they both feel uneasy.

In fact, they’d both hardly been able to think of anything other than this moment for the entire day, ever since Harry’s asked them about a chat after dinner.

Now, he looks just as worried as them. Though, Lily would think that that’s hardly possible.

“I’ve got a plan.” he replies his Dad, clasping his hands together on the table. “And…you probably won’t like it.”

Lily purses her lips. She is already sure she won’t like it. “A plan?” she asks, raising her brow. “What for?”

It’s unnecessary really, to ask that, for it could only ever be one thing, yet Lily still hopes it wouldn’t be that.

Anything but that.

James stirs next to her, leaning onto his elbows. “You’re not dropping out, kid, are you?” he jokes, chuckling amusedly—

Until they both see the sinister look on Harry’s face.

James falls quiet at once, glancing over at her before he looks back at their son. “You’re not—“

“I am.” Harry‘s decisive voice cuts James off. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

Lily can only stare back at him — at the boy, their boy, with way too many burdens, all unjustly placed upon his young shoulders. It’s painfully overwhelming, because she still remembers, like it was yesterday, how he used to be so much smaller. How he’d held onto her hand whilst going out, or asked for bedtime stories and good night cuddles.

Lily’s heart clenches. How fast did the years pass? Spiting any rational thought, she can’t help but wish she could have frozen time, just for a little while.

Because now, she can’t help but mourn for the carefree little boy Harry had been. How could she not? When her son looks so utterly worn and tired these days.

“You don’t have to,” James protests, and Lily can hear the frustration clear in his voice.

She places her hand upon his arm to calm him, whilst her eyes bore intently into Harry‘s. “Why do you think that?” she asks him calmly.

Harry looks away, towards the small kitchen window. “I…can’t tell you.”

James sighs, before he takes Harry‘s hand into his over the table. “Yes, you can. Common Snitch, you know we want to help.” he tries. “Tell us.”

Lily nods her head eagerly. “Your Dad’s right, love.” she adds, taking his other hand. “You can tell us.”

For a moment, when their son‘s green eyes flicker up to look at her and James, he seems so close to tell them — tell them everything that’s been worrying him so much. But it’s too fleeting a moment for Lily to even be sure she hadn’t just imagined it.

“I can’t.” he insists instead, pulling his hands away. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Lily can see the truly apologetic look in his eyes, though that doesn’t help to ease her worries.

“I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t.”

Dumbledore?

Lily’s eyes flutter closed for just a second, as she silently curses the man that, although he’d always been a good friend, had more than once now disappointed her.

Even in death, his mysterious plans still seem to be continued, with Harry as their main act — which goes against everything she and James have wanted for their boy.

James’s hand clutches into a fist on the table. “What?” he asks angrily. “Why would he want you to promise him that?”

He’s angry. Lily can tell that he’s so very short of raising his voice. She can understand him for it too, for she feels just as frustrated.

Harry on the other hand remains almost stoically calm. “Because he knew it wouldn’t help if I did,” he explains. “You can’t help me this time.”

And just like that, Lily’s resolve crumbles.

“Don’t say that.” she argues fiercely, her unnaturally pitched tone a clear reflection of her own despair.

“Mum, it’s fine—“ Harry sighs tiredly, as though he’d known this would happen. As though no matter what Lily says, he’d already made up his mind.

“It’s far from fine!” she retorts anyways, fighting best she can the sudden feeling of tears in her eyes. “I don’t care what Albus told you. We can help, and we will.”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Lily’s too deeply upset to let him. “You can’t just decide to do this on your own, Harry. I won’t let you. We’re in this together, we’ve always been—“

“We’ve never been in it together!” Harry interrupts, jumping to his feet.

Lily can’t help but flinch, her words dying on her tongue as she stares at him, utterly shocked by his uncharacteristic outburst. She can’t recall him ever reacting like this in her presence before.

“Harry,” James warns. “Don’t talk to your Mum like that.”

But Harry only shoots him a quick look, ignoring his warning, before his blazing eyes lock with her’s once more. “You can’t help me.” he insists. “And you should stop trying to convince yourselves otherwise.”

His words rip Lily’s heart into shreds. Not only because he’d said it with such unwavering conviction, but because deep down, Lily knows he’s right.

It hurts worse than any torture curse ever could.

“Harry!” James exclaims loudly, standing up as well.

“What?” he bites back, but where any other person might see anger, Lily now sees her son‘s very best attempt to steel himself.

It’s better they’d be angry with him, rather than heartbroken, before he’d leave. Suddenly, it all makes sense.

Slowly, she stands up, and without another word, walks around the table until she’s just an arm’s length away from her son. “You don’t have to go.” she says quietly, tears once again filling her eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”

Harry turns away from James to look at her with sad, but unwavering eyes. “Mum—“

“No, please,” Lily repeats quickly, taking hold of his arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You can’t— Dumbledore could be wrong.” she implies, biting her lower lip. “I can’t let you go.”

It’s finally out. Lily can’t let go, not when there’s a chance that she’d never—

“I can’t let you risk your life.” she says fiercely, as she pulls him closer to her, until their foreheads almost touch.

“Like you did?” Harry asks knowingly.

Lily curses her son‘s wit in that moment. “It’s different,” she argues, although she knows that really, it isn’t different at all. “I wanted to protect you—“

“I know.” Harry smiles slightly. “And now, I can finally return the favour.”

#harry potter #james potter #lily potter #jily microfic #jily #harry potter and the deathly hallows #horcruxes #jily lives #angst #last day last prompt

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

#jrwi show #jrwi fanart #jrwi riptide #gillion tidestrider #made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying #nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess #ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so #i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little. #AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair. #AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair #both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother. #GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home #but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns. #he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again #not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO #i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED #all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis #but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum #and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it #youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales. #YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!! #you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound. #elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now. #this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes #BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply

[strrwbrrryjam]

i don't expect adaptations to be carbon copies of the original, because then what would be the point of the adaptation when we already have the original. i don't expect adaptations to be better than the original, sure, there are a few cases of that happening, but it's rare.

what i do expect adaptations is to be faithful to the source material, keeping to the same themes that were integral to the original, and i do expect adaptations to maintain the integrity of the characters, especially in a show like avatar the last airbender, where much of its appeal and depth come from the growth, development and the relationships of the characters and that's where natla fails.

#changes to characters can be good sometimes. but the changes the creators of natla made are not good. #if you believe that the changes they have made are for the better? im not listening to you. argue with the wall. #i dont really care if you like it. if you like it. good for you! #i didnt. it sucks ass. its... so flat and completely assassinated so many characters. katara. bumi. iroh. hakoda. #there are few positives. it isnt all bad. most of it is though. #its not worse than the movie. ill give them that. some of the scenes were great. but... ugh. #side note - i see a lot of people complimenting the outfits and... sure. they look pretty. but the thing is they shouldn't look pretty. #aang is 12 years old. he's reckless and messy and loves to goof off. his clothes are not going to look pristine and brand new. #sokka teaches children to be warriors. you cannot tell me his clothes wouldn't be dirty and torn. #same with katara. but she's an amateur waterbender who messes up. a lot. #ZUKO HAS BEEN ON A RUN DOWN SHIP FOR THREE YEARS. his armour would be OLD. AND SCRATCHED UP. #especially with how careless zuko is. he is a person who will strive to achieve his goal even at his own expense. #his armour and clothes would be beat up and worn. #its got a cosplay feel to me. like these are just people cosplay characters that they only have a shallow knowledge of. #its. just. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. i hate it #natla #netflix avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar the last airbender #strawberry speaks

[whywontuluvme]

So i've been binging the last 3 episodes of Marry My Husbad.

When I tell you the plot had my jaw hanging wide open in the first half hour, maybe even 15 minutes!!!

I'm on team Jihyuk, but tell me why I'm kinda rooting for Eunho...he was so soft at the end of episode 3 aghhhh

^^my exact reaction whenever Jihyuk or Eunho are blessing my screen^^

#i have never despised characters the way i do with Sumin and Minhwan #like.....have you no decency! no moral compass?!! #spoilers... #something about eunho wearing a fake promise ring because he couldnt move on from hia first love aka jiwon HURTS ME like youre telling me #such a man exists?!.....writing this caused me to come to terms with the crushing reality of Eunho being fictional ㅠ #and he may not be endgame but if he was i wouldnt be mad cos i would protect this man with my life!! #also i know for a fact Jihyuk knows wayyy more then he lets on #BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY HE LOOKS AT JIWON #as if she is all there is and will ever be aghhhhh #the lift scene in episode two has be giggling and kicking my feet even if it was such a short scene #also the way this man just kept going after Jiwon in epsiode one making sure she was okay and not getting hurt aghhhh #im not wasting my time nor energy writing up the reasons i hate sumin and minhwan #those reasonings are pretty self explanatory if you watch it #i know i said i wouldnt watch ongoing dramas but the plot was toooooo good to pass up #kdrama #marry my husband #rant

[hauntingblue]

The marines calling Roger the worst man of the world is something but considering ace renounced him and luffy kinda blindly admires him bc we don't really know much about what he has done past his travels....

#like i know he wasnt but why then #bc he opposed th government and thats it #and now theyre going to kill his son just because they can #also surprised the d came from aces mother (well considering what she could do...) but i really thought it was bc of roger #even if they keep writing gold roger and not gol d roger but alas #tbh idk if thats just a theory or it has been confirmed but im not there yet #also i wanna know more about aces mom #and the fukcing bubbles of saboady keep haunting me!!!!!! #why is the people so sure that roger was bad what happened #and why is rayleigh alive if rogers family is dead like damn #also fuck!!! the marines know about dragon being luffys dad when iva san said to keep ot quiet!!! because of fucking garp!!!! #like lets kill rogers son but dragons is alright i guess #not like i want luffy to die but considering the revolutionary army you know #a newborn doesnt carry any sins just as boats arent good or evil. thats what im talking about #there arent any love stories in one piece and like i get it but it would be nice to know why ace was even born you know #OH ACE LOOKS LIKE HIS MOTHER OOOOOOHHHHH... THATS A DEATH SENTENCE #he has his mothers eyes what if i shit and cry and throw up #this is sickening also #the hunting pregnant women #the orange clouds looking like fire when ace is born. what if i start to sob #nono gol d ace now.... so they are both d names.... is that like a curse because damn... #also ace being held by his mom with the orange clouds behind again..... i am telling you he is like jesus christ you wouldnt get it #mary did you know your womb was also a tomb etc etc #god.... rogers rivals raising his son. whitebeard wanting him to become pirate king.... his rival's son... old men do not make me cry #buggy opening the doors like moses lmao #ace surprised whitebeard is coming for him.... and not believing luffy came for him either #that was good i cant wait to see more flashbacks but how many episodes will we be here until the thre hours are past. i fear for aces knees #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 460

[bunnyb34r]

I know I should just block (and not OPEN) tags and posts ab '24 but my brain is stupid and likes to be informed even if it makes me worse

#marquilla #im not even joking when i say this next election makes me wanna kms so bad. im fucking terrified and i feel like we already know what's #gonna happen. not bc people arent voting or organizing i mean bc of how far the right has gotten and how angry they are that a #dem won so theyre gonna show up in droves and it's like god i wish we could idk have some safegaurds in place??? like oh idk you #incite an insurrection you Can't run for president?? but also that wouldnt fully stop shit bc florida has its own neo nazi running and #theres more behind him in the wings. but like idk man i just get so fucking suicidal thinking ab the future #and my drs. are like well then dont look at the news??? 'i sure dont' mkay thats great (not) but um i CAN'T not watch bc i need to #be informed i need to know. and they're like well then stop worrying ab it til election day?? LIKE THAT HELPS #so i just dont bring it up. and i just spiral and have breakdowns in the shower and think ab making a will and shit yknow normal stuff #bc this is fine! just dont engage! stop worrying it's like a year away! it MIGHT get better! idk Join in your community then?? #like yes yes thats a start but with what fucking energy when im bedbound most of the time im not working and that doesnt stop these fascist #s like me helping the community garden would be good for the community and probably my mental health in general BUT that doesnt deal with #the actual fear that makes me wanna Kermit #like it really fucking feels like all i can do is pray and hope god somehow intervenes (rapture anyone?) and that things do go well and #that the outright outspoken nzis don't win but like I really just wanna die man #i know the outcome more than likely will not directly affect my life bc im white. cis passing. and can go back in the closet regretfully #but like that doesnt reassure me any bc i have friends and loved ones and generally just give a shit ab other people and how this WILL #affect them directly and that terrifies me. it really feels like we cant ever have a moment to just exist yknow?? #idk man i just wanna die bc im so scared haha how fun (: how normal (: this is fine. everything is fine.