ophelia

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ 🧸 ⵌ . ophelia . ↓ https://linktr.ee/opheliawritess ⛤ 🤎 . she/her · slytherin/candor/cabin 7 · pisces ♡ 🎻 ➻ †.· med student / hobby writer ★ ☕ . + < i'm addicted to coffee

[l0veophelia]

✧.* rules . masterlist . storage . recs . roleplay info. wattpad. taglist. schedule . (NEW) discord server ophelia - she/her - 22

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

latest releases:

halfway gone; steve harrington

monster (chapter 1 & 2); dean winchester

goodbye for now; ellie williams

trouble magnent; sam winchester

acedemic attraction; lip gallagher

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

i don't give anyone permission to repost my work as their own, copied or translated without my knowledge.

[l0veophelia]

NEW STORY ON WATTPAD

hey guys! ik ive been inactive here med school has been kicking my ahh lately. im just about to finish exams so i thought i'd share what i've been working on in my spare time. updates will be slow as i have no chapter relase dates planned, i'll just be writing when i can!

here's the link, please check it out!

In the shadowed halls of 1970s Hogwarts, Prudence Alaire, a French witch transferred from Beauxbatons, hides a dangerous gift: she can hear

[l0veophelia]

please comment with what you'd like to be tagged in (series, nsfw, certain genres, fandoms or characters).

if you're already on my taglist and want to be removed do nothing, if you don't comment here, send me a message or comment on any of my other posts saying you'd like to be added - you'll be removed with no questions asked.

thank you! taglist is under the cut.

@edith-lynch

[rayne143]

writing affirmations for 2026:

at least you didn’t use AI

at least you didn’t use AI

at least you didn’t use AI

[l0veophelia]

𖤐.ᐟ HALFWAY GONE

conflicted!steveharrington x crushing!femalereader

genre: fluff

word count: 3.2k words

summary: steve feels nancy slipping away, her heart already leaning toward jonathan. in the quiet of a parking lot, he confesses his confusion and longing, reaching for you instead.

warnings: emotional cheating???

a/n: I STILL HAVEN'T WATCHED S5 YET BUT LEMME COOK WITH THIS FIC!!!!!!!!!

Just a week ago, things were simple. Steve had Nancy Wheeler. Pretty, smart, the kind of girl everyone expected him to like.

But then there was you.

He didn't know much about you besides the fact that you sat behind him in history and would sometimes let him copy your notes after a long weekend. He didn't even remember the very first time he noticed you. He just remembered the moment he realized you were suddenly…everywhere. Already looking at him before he would look at you.

And Steve tried to ignore it. He tried to keep his head on Nancy.

Nancy, the safe choice. The obvious choice. The girl he had pined over for months, and the girl he should be happy with. 

But every time Nancy drifted towards Jonathan, every time she pulled away from Steve even a little, he found himself turning towards you instead. And you were always right there, offering kindness without asking for anything, laughing at his idiotic jokes, softening his edges until he forgot he had them…

But while Steve was sitting there, completely zoned out of this class, all he could think about was Nancy's argument over Barb going missing, Jonathan's stupid photos...

Seeing them sat together on her bed last night after she declined plans with him. Wearing his jacket. His arm around her. 

The bell rings, ripping him out of his thoughts, and he watches you start packing your things.  "Are you busy tonight?"  Steve blurts the words out before he could even stop himself.

You freeze, your hand halfway to your bag, the zipper caught between your fingers. The words hang in the air, sharp and unexpected, and for a second you wonder if you had imagined them. But Steve is looking right at you, his expression caught somewhere between nervous and determined, like he’s already regretting saying it but can’t take it back.

Your heart stutters. For weeks, you’ve watched him with Nancy, watched him smile at her in ways that made you feel invisible. And yet, every time she drifted toward Jonathan, every time she pulled away, his eyes found yours. You had noticed but, told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That you were just a classmate. That you were just…there.

But now, he’s asking you. Not Nancy. You.

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, though your pulse is anything but. “No,” You say softly, meeting his gaze. “I’m not busy.”

Steve's shoulders relax just a fraction at your answer, like he'd been holding his breath this whole time. He quickly looks away, suddenly very interested in adjusting the strap of his backpack, anything to avoid seeing how you're reacting.

"Cool," he says, trying way too hard to sound casual. His voice cracks slightly on the word and he mentally curses himself for it. 

He risks another glance at you while pretending to organize papers that don't need organizing. The classroom is emptying around them but Steve doesn’t move from his seat, like if he stands up now this moment might end.

A beat passes where neither of you speaks before Steve blurts out again, "Do...do you wanna maybe get food or something?" 

You let the silence stretch just long enough for him to squirm, then tilt your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Food sounds good,” you say, steady but soft, like you’re giving him permission to breathe again.

The tension in Steve's body uncoils all at once, his entire face lighting up with relief, like he'd been braced for rejection and now can't believe it didn't come. 

"Yeah?" he asks, voice too eager before he reins it back in. He clears his throat and attempts to play it cooler, "I mean...yeah. Great." 

He finally stands up, too fast, nearly knocking over his chair, and grabs both your bags without thinking (a habit from carrying Nancy's stuff). 

“Guess you’re full-service now,” you tease lightly, not snatching the bag back, letting him carry it if he wants to.

Steve blinks, momentarily stunned out of his nervous state, then grins sheepishly, his relief growing at your easy banter. 

"Yeah, well," he shrugs, readjusting both bags on his shoulders as he starts walking towards the door, "I'm a man of many talents."

You can’t help the laugh that slips out, shaking your head at his attempt to play it off. He’s trying so hard to sound smooth, but the sheepish grin on his face betrays him.

“Talents, huh?” you tease, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the door. “Carrying bags, tripping over chairs…what else you got?”

The hallway hums with voices and lockers slamming shut, but it feels like the world has narrowed to just the two of you

Steve pretends to think about it for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before a smirk spreads across his face. "Well, let's see...I'm a pretty decent basketball player," he starts, his steps falling into time with yours. "Great hair, obviously," He flashes a cocky grin, running a hand through his styled-to-perfection locks as if to emphasize the point. 

"And..." He lowers his voice and leans in close so that only you can hear, the hallway noise fading into background static. "I'm really good at making pretty girls laugh."

For a second, you almost laugh—because it’s such a Steve Harrington thing to say—but then the reminder hits you like a weight.

Nancy.

Your smile falters just a little, enough for him to notice if he’s paying attention. “Pretty girls, huh?” You murmur, tilting your head toward him. “Shouldn’t you be saving those lines for Nancy?”

Steve’s eyes flicker, caught off-guard by the sudden change in tone. He sees the subtle shift in your voice, the slight hesitation. The way you subtly pull back. The way you bring up Nancy. 

His cocky facade falters too, and for a moment he looks slightly guilty. He knows exactly what you're referring to. He lets out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. Right. Nancy."

You feel the name settle between you like a stone, heavier than his laugh could disguise. The sharp edge of it cuts through the easy banter, reminding you of everything that still ties him to her.

That easy banter is gone now, replaced by an uncomfortable silence as you both walk down the packed hallway, surrounded by people oblivious to the tension between you. 

Steve glances at you briefly, his gaze flicking over you like he's trying to gauge your reaction. But your face is neutral, giving him no clues. He's not sure if you're mad or disappointed or...something else. 

His shoulders hunch a bit, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his usual confident stride turning into something more like...guilt-ridden shuffle.

By the time the two of you push through the doors and the cool air hits, the noise of the hallway fades, replaced by the quiet hum of the parking lot. 

Steve seems to relax at the sudden absence of noise, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He walks over to a shiny red BMW parked at the edge of the lot, glancing at you to see if you follow. 

He puts your bags in the backseat before turning back to you with a forced casualness, his hands jammed in his pockets again. "So, uh, any preferences for food?" 

There's a hint of hesitation there, the easy flow of banter absent now, replaced with an unspoken awareness of what you brought up. Of Nancy.

You shift your weight, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Anything sounds fine,” you say, steady but quiet, then add, “but Steve…you’re still with Nancy.”

The words come out softer than an accusation, but they carry the truth he’s trying so hard to ignore. You see the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of guilt in his eyes. He wants this to be simple, wants it to be easy, but it isn’t. Not when everyone knows Nancy Wheeler is still his girlfriend, even if she’s always with Jonathan now, even if she’s pulling further away.

You glance at the bags he tossed in the backseat, then back at him. “So what is this, really?” you ask, your voice low, not cruel but not letting him off the hook either. “A hangout because she’s busy…or something else?”

Steve lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He knows exactly what you're getting at, what you're implying. And he can't argue with it. 

"It's not...I don't know," he grumbles, kicking a pebble in the parking lot, avoiding your gaze. "It's just..."

He looks back at you now, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions - guilt, frustration, confusion, something that almost looks like desperation. "Nancy and I..."

He trails off again, unable to find the words.

You swallow, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even though it hurts. “Steve,” you say quietly, steady but not unkind. “If you don’t know where you stand with her…then you shouldn’t be standing here with me.”

The words taste bitter, but they’re the truth. You can’t be the distraction, the in-between, the person he turns to when Nancy isn’t there. And yet, even as you say it, you feel the pull—the way his eyes linger on you, the way his silence begs you not to walk away. 

And you should've said this back in the classroom, but you were so caught off guard, you didn't.

Your words hit him like a punch in the gut, the harsh truth of them landing right where it hurts. He knows you're right—he knows. 

He takes a step towards you, the space between you growing even smaller, his voice a pleading whisper.

"I know, okay? I know, but…I can't stop thinking about you. You're the one I look for in a crowd, the one I want to talk to when something good happens. Every time Nancy pulls away, every time I see her with Jonathan, it-"

“Steve…don’t you see?” you whisper, the weight of it pressing heavy between you. “She’s already halfway gone. Every time she’s with Jonathan, every time she chooses him over you - it’s not just friendship anymore. She’s giving pieces of herself to him that should still be yours.”

Steve flinches like you've slapped him, the words cutting deeper than he wants to admit. His throat works around nothing for a second, because yeah, of course he sees it. He's seen it.

He remembers Nancy laughing at one of Jonathan's stupid jokes last week, how her fingers lingered when she handed him his jacket back after wearing it all night. The way she used to save every smile for him and now...not so much.

His chest aches with something raw and painful that he doesn’t even have a name for yet, betrayal? Fear? The sinking realization that maybe Nancy stopped loving him weeks ago without bothering to tell him directly?

"I know," Steve finally admits in a hollow voice, staring down at the pavement between your feet like if looks hard enough there'll be an answer written there. "I just…didn't wanna believe it."

You shift slightly, the pavement cool beneath your shoes, and force yourself to hold his gaze even when he won’t look up. “Steve,” you say quietly, steady but not unkind. “You already know. You’ve known for a while. Pretending otherwise doesn’t change what’s happening.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair again, frustrated and overwhelmed by the harsh truth of your words. A part of him wants to snap back, to tell you to stop saying all this, to stop being so damn right all the time and just…let him be in denial for a little longer. 

But another part, a quiet little part that's been growing louder these past few weeks, knows you're right. 

He finally looks up, his gaze meeting yours again, weary and weary and desperate. "What the hell do I do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You take a step closer, not unkind, but firm. “Figure out what you want. Figure out who you want. And then…be honest. With her. With me. With yourself.”

The silence that follows is heavy, his eyes searching yours for something

Steve's shoulders slump under the weight of your words, the harsh reality settling in. He opens his mouth to speak but the words seem lodged in his throat. You're right...he knows you're right. But the thought of confronting Nancy, of facing the truth that's been staring him right in the face…

He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving yours. There's a mix of resignation and something else, something he can't quite place.

"And what if I already know who I want?" he murmurs.

You shift your weight, arms tightening across your chest as you try to steady yourself. “Then you need to be honest about it,” you say softly, though your voice doesn’t waver. “With her. With me. With yourself. If you already know who you want, Steve, then stop pretending Nancy’s still the answer.”

Steve takes a deep breath, the simple truth of your words hitting him hard. He looks at you, really looks at you, the way you stand there, shoulders back, every inch of you strong and steady. 

He wants to protest, to find some reason to argue or dismiss it all, but he can't. He's tried so hard to hold onto Nancy lately, to keep things the way they used to be, but he knows it's hopeless. 

He lets out a bitter laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. "When did you get so damn smart?"

You feel the corner of your mouth twitch, not quite a smile, more like a reaction to the bitterness in his laugh. His words hang in the air, heavy but edged with something almost tender, like he’s trying to deflect the weight of the moment with humor.

You shift your stance, arms still crossed, and tilt your head at him. “Smart? No,” you say quietly, steady but firm. “Just not willing to lie the way you’ve been lying to yourself.”

Steve takes another step towards you, closing the space between you further. He stares down at you, his gaze roaming your face. He's torn between wanting to argue and wanting to agree. Between wanting to hold onto the familiar comfort of Nancy, even if it's hollow now, and wanting to grab on to the solidity he sees in you.

"You've always seen right through me," he mutters, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his voice. "It's irritating."

Your voice softens as you speak, “You don’t get to pretend with me, Steve. Not about Nancy. Not about what you want. Not about any of it.”

Steve lets out a tired sigh, the fight slowly fading out of him. Your words cut through his defenses, straight to the core. He knows you're right. 

His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and the conflict in his expression is almost palpable.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing," he admits, voice raw with frustration and something that sounds like longing. "I feel like I'm losing my damn mind lately."

You don’t move, don’t break the silence, just let him stand there with it. Because in this moment, it’s not about fixing anything or giving him answers, it’s about the way he’s looking at you, like he’s searching for something solid to hold onto while everything else slips away.

Steve's gaze flicks over your face, taking in the details he'd never noticed before. The way your eyelashes flutter when you blink. The faint freckle near the corner of your mouth. Even the way your shoulders square, strong and unwavering despite the weight of his words. 

Without even realizing it, his hand reaches out, his thumb lightly brushing the freckle near your mouth. It hovers there for a second, just barely touching your skin, a silent question.

Your breath catches, the world narrowing to that single point of contact. The parking lot, the car, the noise of students spilling out behind you, it all fades until it’s just him, standing too close, looking at you like you’re the answer he’s been circling around but never brave enough to name.

You don’t pull back, not yet. Instead, you let the silence stretch, your eyes locked on his, making him feel the weight of the choice he’s reaching for. Because if he wants this, if he wants you - then he has to be the one to say it.

Steve's breath hitches when you don’t pull away. His thumb stills against your skin, as if he’s waiting for you to stop him waiting for any sign that this isn't okay.

But there isn’t one.

And the realization hits him like a freight train, you’re letting me do this.

His heart pounds so loud he swears it echoes in the quiet space between you two. He swallows hard, his chest tight with nerves and hope all tangled up together.

"You…" Steve starts, then stops himself. His hand trembles slightly where it hovers near your face, like touching someone who actually matters is scarier than anything else in his life right now.

“I…?” You prompt him. 

"You're…not stopping me," Steve whispers, the words tumbling out before he can even really process them. 

His brain is suddenly blank, all of his usual suave confidence gone in the face of the truth. Here you are, letting him stand closer than friends should, letting him touch you like he's got any right to, and you're just…letting him.

He's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's certain you're going to push him away and walk off and call him an idiot. 

But you don't.

Your breath hitches at the way his words tumble out, raw and uncertain, and you let the silence hang for a beat before answering.

“Maybe I’m not stopping you because…part of me doesn’t want to,” you admit quietly, your voice steady but softer than before. You tilt your head just slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But that doesn’t mean this is simple, Steve.”

The reality check slams into him. He knows damn well it isn’t simple. Not with Nancy still technically his girlfriend, not when she’s probably off with Jonathan right now wearing his jacket again.

“Dinner,” he says finally, the word almost too casual, but his voice betrays him. There’s a heaviness there, a quiet shift that makes it clear this isn’t just about food anymore.

He nods toward the passenger side of his car, his BMW, shiny and stupidly expensive, something that usually makes people look at him with awe. But right now? He couldn’t care less about impressing anyone.

"Get in?" It comes out more like a question than an invitation. Like he's giving you one last chance to say no, to walk away before this goes any further down a road there's no coming back from.

Steve pauses, his hand hovering over the passenger door handle. He hesitates for a brief, almost panicked moment, his mind racing with doubts and excuses and a hundred reasons why this is a bad idea.

But then his eyes land on you, on the way you're looking at him. On the way you're so goddamn steady while everything else is crumbling around him. 

So he swallows his doubts, opens the door for you, and mutters, "Ladies first."

[l0veophelia]

MAIN MASTERLIST | STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST

☕personal favorite ||🥥 smut ||🎻angst || 🧸 fluff ||🤎dark content

ONE SHOTS.

HALFWAY GONE | 3.2k words | conflicted!steveharrington x crushing!femreader | steve feels nancy slipping away, her heart already leaning toward jonathan. in the quiet of a parking lot, he confesses his confusion and longing, reaching for you instead. 🧸

[l0veophelia]

DISCORD SERVER

Welcome to Ophelia Writes—a sanctuary for dreamers, storytellers, and lovers of the written word.

This isn’t just any reading and writing space—it’s your space. A cozy, laid-back corner of the internet where words flow like conversation and creativity feels effortless. Whether you’re here for the latest chapter of my fanfiction, to discuss the wildest plot twists, or just to vibe with fellow bookish souls, this is the place.

📖 What’s Inside? ✨ Exclusive updates on my stories 💬 Chill discussions about writing, books, and beyond 🔥 Brainstorming sessions & creative workshops 🤝 A welcoming community where inspiration never sleeps

So, if words mean the world to you—whether you write them or just love reading them—pull up a seat. Get cozy. And let's make magic together.

🔗Join now - your next favorite story awaits.

[l0veophelia]

MAIN MASTERLIST | SHADOW & BONE MASTERLIST

☕personal favorite ||🥥 smut ||🎻angst || 🧸 fluff ||🤎dark content

ONE SHOTS.

untitled | word count | soft!kazbrekker x alone!reader summary

[ellieabbyy]

[l0veophelia]

DISCORD SERVER

Welcome to Ophelia Writes—a sanctuary for dreamers, storytellers, and lovers of the written word.

This isn’t just any reading and writing space—it’s your space. A cozy, laid-back corner of the internet where words flow like conversation and creativity feels effortless. Whether you’re here for the latest chapter of my fanfiction, to discuss the wildest plot twists, or just to vibe with fellow bookish souls, this is the place.

📖 What’s Inside? ✨ Exclusive updates on my stories 💬 Chill discussions about writing, books, and beyond 🔥 Brainstorming sessions & creative workshops 🤝 A welcoming community where inspiration never sleeps

So, if words mean the world to you—whether you write them or just love reading them—pull up a seat. Get cozy. And let's make magic together.

🔗Join now - your next favorite story awaits.

[l0veophelia]

23 - ophelia naenia | supernatural

face claim: phoebe tonkin

trigger warnings: any warnings pertaining to the show, manipulation, lust, death & gore.

pinterest board

PROLOUGE

the moon hung heavy in the ink-stained sky, its pale light casting ghostly shadows on the earth below. ophelia stood at the threshold of the old, abandoned church, the place where her father had once knelt in quiet prayer and where her mother had cast his blood upon the stones. the memories still burned as vivid as fire—a flash of steel, the sound of his last breath, and her mother’s wicked smile.

she had fled that night, an eight-year-old girl with trembling hands and a heart burdened with both grief and defiance. her mother had tried to twist her, had whispered promises of power and darkness, but even then, ophelia knew she wanted no part of it. in her father’s death, she found her will: to escape the monster her mother was, to carve her own path.

years passed, and the world showed her its cruelty. every corner she turned seemed to echo with her mother’s laughter, a haunting reminder of her bloodline. yet ophelia clung to the fragments of humanity she still had—working odd jobs, keeping her demonic half buried beneath the surface, pretending she was just another girl. until the winchesters found her.

GENERAL

name

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→ ophelia jocelyn naenia

this name has greek origins and means "help" or "benefit". it's famously associated with shakespeare's tragic character in hamlet, giving it a romantic and gothic sensibility. the name evokes themes of elegance and mystery.

it has roots in old german and old french. originally, it was a masculine name derived from the germanic name "gautzelin", meaning "member of the gauts tribe" (a north germanic tribe). over time, it evolved into a unisex name and is now predominantly feminine. in hebrew, it also carries the meaning "joyful" or "happy."

this name is derived from latin and means "incantation" or "dirge". in roman mythology, naenia was the goddess of funerals, symbolizing lamentation and the solemn beauty of rituals surrounding death.

birthday

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→ march 21

marks the start of spring in many cultures, symbolizing renewal, balance, and duality—themes that resonate with ophelia’s struggle between her human and succubus sides. It's a date that reflects her internal conflict and her journey toward finding harmony within herself.

star sign

————————————

→ aries

the first sign of the zodiac ruled by mars and the element of fire. this aligns with her bold and fearless personality—her defiance against her mother and her drive to carve her own path are clear aries traits. she’s independent and strong-willed, thriving in a fast-paced, dynamic lifestyle, as shown in her connection with the winchesters. her fiery passion fuels her actions, making her determined and unrelenting.

birthplace

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→ boulder, colorado

it’s a vibrant city with a mix of natural beauty and urban charm, nestled at the foothills of the rocky mountains. boulder has a quirky, eclectic vibe, which could contrast nicely with ophelia’s darker, supernatural backstory. its proximity to wilderness areas could also provide a perfect setting for eerie, supernatural events while still allowing her to attempt a "normal" life in a bustling college town.

APPERANCE

face

————————————

→ diamond

a diamond-shaped face, characterized by a narrow forehead, wide cheekbones, and a pointed chin, is often associated with unique personality traits. people with this face shape are thought to be natural communicators, excelling in expressing themselves and connecting with others. they may also have a perfectionist streak, striving for excellence in their endeavors, which can be both a strength and a source of self-imposed pressure.

eyes

————————————

→ brown

brown eyes, being the most common eye color globally, are often associated with warmth, approachability, and depth. people with brown eyes are perceived as trustworthy and grounded.

hair

————————————

→ brown

brown hair is often associated with traits like reliability, warmth, and intelligence. people with brown hair are perceived as grounded and approachable.

style

————————————

→ 01. 02. 03.

she embraces a dark, edgy style that mirrors her succubus lineage while incorporating elements of practicality and warmth to honor her human side. think leather jackets paired with ripped jeans, dark boots, and accessories like chokers or rings—items that reflect her connection to the supernatural. she also leans into muted earth tones like charcoal, deep burgundy, and forest green, subtly tying her wardrobe to the natural, grounding aspects of her human life. at the same time, ophelia has moments where she dresses more casually, opting for oversized sweaters or worn tees when she’s trying to blend in or escape her darker past. her fashion choices often feel intentional, as if she’s constructing armor for herself—an outer reflection of the internal struggle she carries.

HEALTH

physical health

————————————

→ healthy

a blend of resilience and struggle, shaped by her supernatural and human sides. her succubus lineage likely grants her enhanced stamina, quick reflexes, and a stronger-than-average immune system. these traits make her durable, capable of recovering quickly from injuries and enduring strenuous situations. however, her refusal to embrace her darker heritage might lead to internal conflicts that occasionally manifest physically—perhaps moments of weakness, fatigue, or unexplained pain when she suppresses her demonic nature too strongly. emotionally, the trauma of her past and the constant battle to maintain her humanity could weigh heavily on her, affecting her overall well-being.

mental health

————————————

→ ptsd, identity conflict

stemming from witnessing her father’s murder and enduring her mother’s manipulative attempts to corrupt her. these experiences may leave her with recurring nightmares, flashbacks, and a heightened sense of vigilance. her refusal to embrace her succubus heritage might also lead to feelings of identity conflict, as she grapples with the darker aspects of herself while striving to maintain her humanity. this internal struggle could manifest as bouts of anxiety or depression, especially during moments when she feels isolated or overwhelmed.

LIFESTYLE

education

————————————

→ community college, arizona state university

ophelia’s education is deeply tied to her desire for justice and uncovering the truth—likely a reaction to the unresolved trauma surrounding her father’s murder. she attended a community college in her late teens while working odd jobs to support herself. there, she began studying criminology, focusing on the psychology of crime and the methods of investigation. her passion for understanding human behavior drove her to excel in areas like forensic science and criminal psychology. later, she transferred to a university with a strong criminal justice program. while pursuing her bachelor’s degree, she likely interned with local law enforcement, honing her skills in analyzing evidence, interviewing witnesses, and understanding the intricacies of legal systems. her supernatural heritage may have also given her an edge in reading people and picking up on subtle cues—abilities she’s kept hidden but subtly integrates into her detective work.

occupation

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→ detective, hunter

she balances her work between typical detective duties—investigating crimes, interviewing witnesses, and analyzing evidence—and covertly using her supernatural abilities when needed. her succubus heritage gives her an edge in sensing hidden emotions or motives, though she’s careful to use it discreetly to avoid exposure. working in this field also allows her to connect with people and maintain a semblance of normalcy, despite the constant tension of her dual identity. ophelia’s cases sometimes overlap with hunting, which keeps her tied to the world of the winchesters and their battles against evil.

personality

————————————

→ entp "the debater"

entp's are known for their charm, quick wit, and ability to think on their feet—traits that match her bluntness and knack for making bold jokes. they thrive in dynamic environments, love intellectual challenges, and often use humor as a tool to connect with others or diffuse tension. her entp nature would make her a natural conversationalist, someone who can easily adapt to different situations and people. she’s likely unafraid to speak her mind, even if it means ruffling feathers, and her sharp sense of humor adds a layer of complexity to her interactions.

good traits

————————————

→ charismatic - resilient - courageous

her charm and magnetic personality make her a natural at captivating others, whether she's disarming suspects, easing tensions, or bantering with the winchesters. her ability to connect with people is as much a tool in her detective work as it is a reflection of her succubus lineage.

despite the trauma of her past and the constant battle with her dual heritage, ophelia is unyielding. her determination to rise above adversity and carve her own path shows incredible strength and perseverance.

she faces danger, emotional struggles, and supernatural horrors with boldness. her bravery is not just about physical confrontations but also about confronting her fears, seeking justice, and finding the truth—even when it’s deeply personal.

bad traits

————————————

→ impulsive - stubborn - emotionally guarded

her fiery aries nature and sharp personality make her prone to acting on instinct rather than considering the consequences, which can lead to reckless decisions that put herself or others at risk.

ophelia’s strong will, while admirable, sometimes becomes a liability. she can be inflexible and resistant to advice or compromise, especially when her emotions are running high.

due to her traumatic past, ophelia often hides her vulnerabilities behind wit and humor, which makes it difficult for others to truly connect with her on a deeper level.

strengths

————————————

→ intuition - adaptability

her keen instinct often allows her to sense things that others overlook—whether it's a subtle change in someone's demeanor or a ripple of energy from a supernatural presence. this intuition makes her an invaluable detective and a formidable force in her encounters with evil. her adaptability shines through in how she handles unexpected challenges. she can seamlessly switch between her human and succubus nature when the situation calls for it, using her charm and resourcefulness to turn disadvantages into opportunities. these strengths reflect not only her character's resilience but also her ability to thrive in a world where the lines between good and evil blur.

weaknesses

————————————

→ blunt nature - short fuse

her love for conflict can make her overly confrontational, pushing buttons and stirring up tension even when it’s not necessary. this trait might lead to strained relationships and situations where her bluntness causes unintended harm. while she enjoys the challenge of conflict, she might also have a temper that flares quickly in heated situations. her impulsivity could escalate arguments or disagreements beyond what’s reasonable, making it harder for her to resolve them calmly.

likes

————————————

→ dark humor - coffee shops - motorcycles

her penchant for making dirty jokes and embracing dark humor reflects her ability to find levity in even the most grim situations. it’s a coping mechanism and a way to connect with people who appreciate her wit. despite her tough exterior, ophelia might enjoy the quiet charm of local coffee shops. whether it's the cozy ambiance or the endless stream of people to observe, she finds these places perfect for unwinding or piecing together clues for her latest case. she enjoys the freedom and adrenaline that come with riding, as well as the rebellious edge it adds to her personality. it could also serve as a metaphor for her journey—always moving forward, never looking back.

dislikes

————————————

→ her mother - idle chatter - bureaucracy

ophelia harbors deep resentment toward her mother for her manipulative and cruel nature, as well as for the trauma she inflicted by murdering ophelia’s father. this dislike fuels her determination to resist her succubus heritage and carve her own path. ophelia dislikes meaningless small talk, preferring conversations with depth and purpose. her blunt nature often leads her to cut through superficiality and get straight to the point. she might find the rigid rules and red tape of institutions frustrating, especially when they hinder her ability to solve cases or seek justice. her blunt and action-oriented nature makes her impatient with unnecessary formalities and inefficiencies.

hobbies

————————————

→ riding motorcycles

she loves the thrill and freedom of the open road, finding solace and excitement in the roar of the engine and the wind against her face.

RELATIONSHIPS

parent

————————————

→ lila naenia, luke naenia

ophelia shared a deep, unwavering bond with her father, rooted in love and mutual understanding. he was her protector and confidant, always shielding her from the darkness of the world—and from her mother’s manipulative nature. despite the hardships they faced, he made sure ophelia’s childhood had moments of happiness and stability. he taught her the value of kindness, honesty, and resilience, encouraging her to stay true to herself even in the face of adversity. they often spent time together working on small projects, such as fixing up the old family car or tending to a modest garden. her father had a knack for storytelling, weaving tales of courage and adventure that inspired ophelia to dream big and aim high. he nurtured her love of mysteries and puzzles, planting the seeds for her eventual career as a detective.

ophelia’s relationship with her mother is deeply fractured and defined by betrayal, manipulation, and resentment. her mother, a succubus, embodies the darkness that ophelia has spent her life trying to escape. from a young age, her mother attempted to corrupt her, whispering promises of power and urging her to embrace her demonic heritage. this manipulation reached its peak when her mother murdered ophelia’s father, shattering any semblance of trust or love between them. as ophelia grows older, her hatred for her mother intensifies, but she also recognizes the danger her mother poses—not just to her, but to others. when ophelia decides to confront her mother, she knows she must play a dangerous game. pretending to embrace her succubus side, she infiltrates her mother’s world, adopting the guise of someone who has finally succumbed to the darkness. this act requires immense emotional strength, as ophelia must suppress her true self and navigate the treacherous dynamics of her mother’s manipulative nature.

friends

————————————

→ sam winchester, castiel, crowley

ophelia’s friendship with sam is built on trust, understanding, and shared struggles. sam was the first to discover her half-demon heritage, a secret she kept hidden from dean due to his strong feelings about demons. sam’s own experiences with his demon blood and the challenges he faced in accepting his identity made him uniquely empathetic to ophelia’s situation. he didn’t judge her but instead offered support, creating a safe space for her to open up. their bond deepened as they worked together on cases, with sam often acting as a confidant and mentor. he helped her navigate the complexities of her dual nature, encouraging her to embrace her humanity while understanding the darker parts of herself. their friendship is marked by moments of vulnerability, humor, and mutual respect, with sam often stepping in to mediate when tensions arise between ophelia and dean.

ophelia’s friendship with castiel is built on mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose. castiel, with his stoic demeanor and unwavering dedication to doing what’s right, serves as a grounding presence for ophelia. he admires her resilience and determination to resist her darker nature, often offering her guidance and support when she feels conflicted about her identity. in turn, ophelia appreciates castiel’s honesty and his ability to see beyond her succubus heritage. she finds comfort in his celestial perspective, which helps her navigate the moral complexities of her dual nature. their friendship is marked by quiet moments of understanding, where words aren’t always necessary, and by a shared commitment to protecting humanity from supernatural threats.

ophelia’s “friendship” with crowley is a fascinating mix of mutual benefit, sharp wit, and underlying tension. crowley, being the (former) king of hell, sees ophelia as a valuable asset due to her succubus heritage and her connection to the winchesters. he often tries to manipulate her into embracing her darker side, offering her power and influence in exchange for loyalty. ophelia, however, is far too clever to fall for his schemes outright, and their interactions are often a battle of wits. despite their differences, there’s a strange camaraderie between them. crowley appreciates ophelia’s bluntness and her ability to hold her own in their verbal sparring matches, while ophelia begrudgingly respects crowley’s cunning and resourcefulness. their “friendship” is less about trust and more about a shared understanding of the supernatural world and its complexities. at times, ophelia uses crowley’s knowledge and connections to further her own goals, particularly when it comes to hunting down her mother. crowley, in turn, enjoys having someone as unpredictable and fiery as ophelia in his orbit, even if she’s not entirely on his side. their dynamic is one of constant push and pull, making their interactions both entertaining and unpredictable.

significant other(s)

————————————

→ dean winchester

ophelia’s relationship with dean is a fiery and passionate connection, built on mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose. dean is drawn to ophelia’s strength and resilience, admiring her ability to navigate the complexities of her dual heritage while maintaining her humanity. ophelia, in turn, is captivated by dean’s unwavering loyalty and his fierce determination to protect those he loves. their bond is marked by moments of intense chemistry and emotional vulnerability. dean’s guarded nature and ophelia’s blunt personality create a dynamic where they challenge each other, pushing one another to confront their fears and insecurities. despite their differences, they find solace in each other’s company, forming a partnership that is both romantic and deeply supportive. ophelia’s reluctance to reveal her succubus heritage to dean initially creates tension, but when the truth comes to light, dean’s reaction is a testament to his growth and his ability to see beyond her supernatural side. their relationship becomes a powerful force in their fight against evil, blending their strengths and creating a love that is both passionate and enduring.

COMBAT

combat style

————————————

→ bold - unrelentless

she incorporates a mix of martial arts and street-fighting techniques, honed during her detective training and years of self-defense. her strikes are sharp and efficient, aiming to disable rather than prolong a fight. when necessary, she uses her succubus abilities subtly—heightened strength, enhanced senses, or even a touch of charm to disorient her enemies—though she avoids relying on them too heavily to maintain her humanity. ophelia is also resourceful, often using her surroundings to her advantage. whether it’s turning everyday objects into improvised weapons or using the environment to create traps, she thrives in unpredictable situations. her combat style reflects her personality: bold, unrelenting, and always one step ahead.

weapons

————————————

→ dual daggers - custom revolver - throwing knife

ophelia’s arsenal is a reflection of her resourcefulness and her preference for precision over brute force. she favors dual daggers, which allow her to strike quickly and efficiently in close combat. their lightweight design complements her agile fighting style, enabling her to move swiftly and adapt to her surroundings. she also carries a custom revolver, a reliable firearm that she’s modified for accuracy and power. it’s her go-to weapon for ranged combat, and she takes pride in maintaining it meticulously. additionally, ophelia keeps a throwing knife tucked away for emergencies, using it to disarm or distract opponents when the situation calls for it.

combat strengths

————————————

→ adaptability - precision

ophelia excels at reading her opponents and adjusting her tactics on the fly. whether she’s facing a supernatural foe or a human adversary, she uses her environment and quick thinking to turn the tide in her favor. her ability to improvise makes her unpredictable and highly effective in combat. her training as a detective and her experience in close-quarters combat have honed her ability to strike with accuracy. whether she’s wielding her dual daggers or her custom revolver, ophelia’s attacks are calculated and efficient, aiming to incapacitate her enemies swiftly.

combat weaknesses

————————————

→ silver - demonic weaponry

like many supernatural beings, ophelia is vulnerable to weapons made of real silver. though the only mundane weapon that can kill her are silver weapons can cause her significant harm, making her cautious when facing opponents who might exploit this weakness. demonic weapons pose a unique threat to her, as they can bypass her natural resilience and inflict fatal damage. this makes her particularly wary of enemies wielding such tools, as they represent a danger that even her supernatural abilities cannot fully counter.

stats

————————————

→ stats score

physical strength: 8/10 - her agility and training make her a formidable force in combat, especially with her preference for dual daggers and precise strikes.

mental strength: 4/10 - while she’s resilient, her emotional guardedness and trust issues can sometimes cloud her judgment, making this her weakest area.

endurance: 7/10 - ophelia’s determination and ability to push through physical challenges give her solid endurance, though her vulnerabilities to silver and demonic weapons can be limiting.

combat skills: 9/10 - her adaptability, precision, and resourcefulness make her a highly skilled fighter, capable of handling both supernatural and human adversaries.

ABILITIES

powers

————————————

→ succubus powers

ophelia’s succubus powers are a potent mix of allure and danger, deeply tied to her supernatural heritage. her ability to drain the lifeforce of others through intimate contact is one of her most feared and misunderstood abilities. this power, while incredibly destructive, is not something she actively uses—it’s more of a dormant trait that surfaces under specific circumstances. the lifeforce-draining ability is triggered during moments of intense emotional or physical connection, such as sleeping with someone. when activated, it siphons vitality from her partner, leaving them weakened or, in extreme cases, lifeless. the process is involuntary and deeply tied to her succubus nature, which she struggles to suppress. the one time she accidentally used this power, it left her wracked with guilt and fear, reinforcing her determination to avoid situations where it might happen again.

power strengths

————————————

→ enhanced strength, speed & regeneration, charm & persuasion

ophelia possesses physical capabilities beyond human limits, allowing her to overpower opponents and move with incredible agility. she can heal from injuries faster than a human, though her vulnerabilities to silver and demonic weapons remain. her succubus nature allows her to influence emotions and manipulate others, though she uses this ability sparingly to avoid compromising her humanity.

power weaknesses

————————————

→ silver - emotional instability

weapons made of real silver can bypass her regenerative abilities, causing severe harm or even fatal injuries. her succubus powers, especially her ability to drain lifeforce, are tied to her emotional state. if she loses control or becomes overwhelmed, her powers can activate unintentionally, putting herself and others at risk.

BACKSTORY

born in boulder, colorado, ophelia grew up in a household divided between light and shadow. her father, a kind and devoted man, was her anchor, teaching her the values of honesty, compassion, and strength. her mother, however, was a succubus—a manipulative and cruel being who sought to corrupt ophelia and draw her into the depths of her demonic heritage. the turning point came when ophelia was just eight years old. her mother murdered her father in a fit of rage, casting his blood upon the stones of an abandoned church where he had once prayed. witnessing this horrific act shattered ophelia’s world, but it also ignited a fierce determination within her. she fled that night, vowing to escape her mother’s influence and carve her own path. for years, ophelia lived on the fringes of society, working odd jobs and keeping her demonic half buried beneath the surface. she struggled to maintain her humanity, clinging to the fragments of her father’s teachings and the hope that she could rise above her heritage. her journey was marked by hardship and loneliness, as the world seemed to echo with her mother’s haunting laughter.

EDIT

[l0veophelia]

࣪𖤐.ᐟ GOODBYE FOR NOW

dissapearing!elliewilliams x sad!femalereader

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k words

summary: you find out ellie is leaving to go and get revenge, and you don't want her to.

warnings: a few swear words?, breaking up, abandonment.

a/n: ps. i wrote this entire page while stoned.

She’s leaving. You heard a noise downstairs, and it was 3am. There she was, packing her backpack while wearing Joel’s coat. 

“Hey.” Your voice cracked as you moved towards Ellie. 

She stopped her movements for a moment before turning around. “Hey.” She spoke, her voice sounded weak and tired. 

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question, it was just an observation. You tried to keep your voice monotone, and indifferent as you crossed your arms. 

“Yeah.” She answers bluntly. She closes one of the zippers on her backpack, and turns her head to look at you. She stays quiet for a few seconds, thinking of what she could say - or should say. 

You slowly nod, looking down at your bare feet. The floor felt cold under your feet. You looked back at Ellie. "You weren't going to say goodbye at least?"

“Look I-” Ellie stutters a bit.  She hesitates a bit, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t want to wake you.” She shrugged, looking down to avoid eye contact with you. 

You shook your head with a sigh, more of disappointment than anything. "Well, I guess this is it." You spoke more harshly than you intended to…or maybe you meant it. 

She felt a pang of guilt when she heard your tone of voice. Ellie hesitates once again. “Yeah, I guess so.” She sighs and puts the backpack straps on. 

Ellie looks at you, knowing how much this was hurting you. She felt a pain in her chest when seeing your expression, seeing your hurt expression. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You scoffed. "Ellie, you're leaving me. How the fuck else am I supposed to look?" You were pissed, that was apparent. 

She sighs again, knowing how pissed off and upset you were. “How about understanding? Or I don’t know, some support? That’d be great.” She crosses her arms, but her expression was more worried.

You put a hand to your face, as if it'd prevent you from trying not to cry. "I won't be here when you get back." You stated. "I'm going back to Jackson, to stay with my sister."

You see that she flinches, her expression shifting into shock. “What…?” Her arms drop to her sides. “So, you’re leaving?”

You nod, the same way she did before. "Yeah."

Ellie looks away, trying to avoid eye contact with you - again. She feels anger, but she was also hurt. “I-” She hesitates. “I didn’t expect you of all people, to walk away from me.” 

You shook your head. "Revenge isn't everything, Ellie." You stepped forward, almost like you were approaching a scared dog. "Would Joel," You decided just to go with it. “,really want you to do this?"

She feels pain when you mention Joel. Because deep down, she know Joel wouldn’t want this for her. She takes a step back from you. “Stop.” Was all she managed to say, because she knew you had a point.

She hated this feeling. She felt vulnerable, something she didn’t feel too often. Ellie sighs. “I need to do this.” 

"Please." Your voice is soft now and you can feel the tears in your eyes forming. 

She heard the cracking in your voice. She wanted to walk up to you and hold you tight, but she knew that if she tried to hug you - she’d end up staying. Her heart ached. 

"Ellie?" Your voice cracked. 

Hearing that made her heart hurt even more. It was killing her. She tries to stay strong, not giving in - but fails. She couldn’t take the pain. Ellie drops her backpack, closes the gap between the two of you and wraps her arms around you - pulling you close.

You sob. It all just comes out at once when she hugs you. You hug her back. She buries her head in your shoulder and tightens her grip around you. She didn’t want to let go. Ellie’s breathing is shaky, it’s just as painful for her as it is for you. 

"Don't go." You plead with her again, hoping this hug wasn't the last.  Ellie tightens her grip even more. She doesn’t want to let you go. “I have to.” She manages. “I have no choice.”

Ellie feels your body shaking and all she keeps thinking about is how much this is hurting you. She doesn’t want to do this. She pulls away from the hug, putting her hands on your face - wiping away your tears with her thumb, gently. 

But you pull back, away from her. You shake your head slowly, wiping your tears yourself. You look away, not being able to look at her anymore. "I'm going back to bed."

Ellie reaches out, trying to stop you from walking away. “Wait-” You stop, but you still avoid eye contact with her. She hated to see you like this - hurting because of her. She took a few steps closer to you again. “I love you.”

You turn your head to look at her with glossy eyes. She looks you in the eyes, feeling vulnerable but also desperate. Ellie takes another step forward, her voice is shaky. “I love you.” She repeats. You don’t answer her.

Ellie steps even closer, so close you feel her breath against your skin. Her hand was trembling, but she placed it back on the side of your face, stroking your cheek with her thumb. “I don’t want to say goodbye.” She whispers. 

“Then don’t” You whisper back. 

Her right hand found yours, interwining her fingers with yours. Her body pressed up against you as she put a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“I need to finish it.”

She looks into your eyes as she felt the hand of yours she was holding, tremble a bit. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

The only thing you can manage is a nod. 

She continues to look at you, just to remind herself of your face. She didn’t want to forget your eyes, the way she forgot Joel’s.

Ellie gently lifts her other hand and slowly moves it to your neck, softly pulling you closer to her until she hugs you again, placing her chin on your shoulder. 

Ellie closes her eyes and just wishes she could stay like this with you. “Don’t forget me.” She whispers. 

She shifts her backpack again as she starts to leave. You just stand there in silence. 

Ellie glances one last time at you, wanting that one last glimpse to stay in her head while she’s gone. She knows that this was hard for both of you, but she knew she had to do this.

With a pained expression, Ellie turns and walks out the door.

You stand, silent and shaking now that she’s gone. “I love you too.” You finally answer. 

taglist: @edith-lynch

[l0veophelia]

MAIN MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST

☕personal favorite ||🥥 smut ||🎻angst || 🧸 fluff ||🤎dark content

ONESHOTS.

trouble magnent | 2.1k words | saviour!samwinchester x hostage!femalereader 🧸 you get kidnapped by vampires, and sam saves you.

[l0veophelia]

𖤐.ᐟ TROUBLE MAGNENT

saviour!samwinchester x hostage!femalereader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.1k words

summary: you get kidnapped by vampires, and sam saves you.

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of blood/cuts.

a/n: i started rewatching supernatural sooo here's this!

The diner hummed with quiet chatter, the occasional clatter of dishes punctuating the stillness. Sam stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his eyes flicking toward the entrance every few seconds. She was late—unusually late—and the growing knot in his chest told him something was wrong.

Dean, seated across from him, noticed his fidgeting. “Relax,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “She probably got caught up in something. You’re always jumping to worst-case scenarios.”

“She's never late like this,” Sam replied, his voice tight. He pulled out his phone, dialing her number. No answer. A second attempt yielded nothing but her voicemail, and his pulse quickened.

Dean furrowed his brows as he watched his younger brother pace. “Alright, you might be onto something,” he muttered, standing and tossing a few bills onto the table. “Let’s go check it out.”

The brothers stepped outside into the crisp night air, their breath visible in the chill. Sam's unease only deepened as the wind carried an unmistakable metallic tang—blood. He exchanged a worried look with his brother, and they both quickened their pace.

The trail led them to an alleyway, dimly lit and foreboding. Sam's heart dropped when he spotted her phone on the ground, cracked and smudged with dirt. He picked it up, his grip tightening around it. “Vampires,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

Dean cracked his knuckles, his expression hardening. “Looks like we’ve got work to do.”

With a determined look on the brothers’ faces, they made their way into the dark alley - the atmosphere thick with tension. Each step echoed in the eerie silence of the night. 

As they reached the end of the alley, the faint sound of scuffles could be heard, coming from a nearby abandoned warehouse. They exchanged a look, each of them mentally preparing themselves for what could be waiting inside. 

“Ready?” Dean whispers, his hand already clutching a stake. Sam nods, his eyes filled with a mix of worry and anger. 

The part of the warehouse you were in was dark, you could barely see anything where you were tied up...unless you counted the small light hanging from the ceiling. It didn't do much. 

As your eyes adjust to the dim light, you begin to make out your surroundings. You’re bound to a sturdy wooden chair, which creaks softly beneath you. The rope twists around your wrists and ankles is tight, restricting your movement. You try to wriggle free, but the knots are expertly tied. These captors know what they’re doing.

Muffled voices echo somewhere outside the small room, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching. 

You narrow your eyes at the doorway, straining to see who might be entering. The voices outside had stopped, and you knew that meant something. 

As you focus your attention on the doorway, a sense of dread creeps over you. The silence that follows the halted voices is almost palpable. Suddenly, the door creaks open and a tall vampire enters - his eyes gleaming in a sinister way. 

Without a word, the vampire walks over to you, his footsteps barely making a sound. He circles you for a moment - his gaze roaming over your bound form, before finally stopping in front of you. 

The vampire steps in front of you, his smile revealing glistening fangs. He leans in close, his face just inches from yours. His voice is smooth like velvet, and eerily calm as he spoke.

“Look what we have here,” He says, his eyes roaming over you. “A little hunter, all tied up and helpless.” 

“I’ll send you and your whole nest back to hell.” You say, nearly knocking your chair over, trying to get out.

The vampire chuckles, his laughter low and menacing. He circles you like prey, his eyes never leaving yours. “Feisty one, aren’t you? I love it when they have a bit of fight in them.” 

He stops behind you, his cold hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “But let’s be clear on something…you’re the one who’s all tied up. You’re in no position to be making threats.” 

You try to free your one hand nonchalantly, you had always kept a small vial of holy water in your pocket. It could hold him off for a bit, if you could get out of your chair. "So what, are you going to kill me or turn me?" You were trying to distract him. 

The vampire cocks his head at your question, intrigued by your nonchalance. He leans in closer, his face inches from yours as he inspects you. “Now, that’s a question I’ve heard before,” He muses. “As for me, well, I am feeling a bit peckish.”

He circles you once more, his gaze drifting over your body. You manage to discreetly free your hand from the ropes, feeling for the pocket that contained the vial of holy water. 

As the vampire leans closer, you grip the vial of holy water in your free hand, praying discreetly. The vampire’s gaze is fixed on your face as he leans into your neck, taking a deep breath. The smell of your blood is driving him crazy. 

“You smell…delicious.” He growls, his fangs grazing your skin. 

You try your best to lean away from him, before you splash a vial of holy water on him. You try to stand but forget that your feet were still bound to the chair - you had only freed your one hand. 

The vampire recoils in agony as the holy water comes into contact with his skin, sizzling and causing visible damage. He lets out a pained howl, his eyes wide with anger. 

“You little-” 

His attention shifts from your neck to your loose hand, and the fact that you’re about to fall face-first into the floor. He swiftly grabs the back of your chair. “You think a little holy water is going to stop me?” He laughs. 

You huff out a breath of annoyance. “Thanks for catching me, it’d be a shame if I faceplanted into the floor.” You said with sass. 

The vampire huffs in irritation, his grip on your chair tightening even further, and you can hear the wood cracking. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, you know that?” He leans closer to your face. 

His fangs gleam in the dim light, as he hovers just inches away from you - his eyes narrowing. 

Then, there was a loud noise coming from outside the door - you could hear a few hisses through the walls. 

The vampire’s head snaps towards the door at the sound, his face hardening. “What now…” He mutters under his breath. The hisses grow louder and more persistent. 

He glares at you for a moment. “Wait here.”

He releases the chair from his grip, striding towards the door with a sense of irritation. 

“Oh yeah, I’m not going anywhere - take your time!” You call out sarcastically. You try to reach with your free hand to the glass shards that were dispersed by the vial you had thrown.

The vampire shoots you another scowl over his shoulder before stepping through the door, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. You eye the scattered glass shards that litter the ground, hoping to get at least one.

As you try to reach for a sizable piece, the sound of shouting and scuffles from outside grows louder, indicating some sort of altercation. 

You wince as you accidentally slice your hand open on the glass shard. The pain stings, but you try to ignore it as you focus on trying to get out of the ropes. “Sure, cut your hand open when there’s vampires everywhere.” You say to absolutely no one. 

“You still talk to yourself when you’re in trouble, huh?” Sam calls out from the doorway. 

Your head snaps towards the voice, disbelief and relief washing over you at the sight of Sam standing in the doorway. “Sam?!” You gasp, your heart skipping a beat. “Took you long enough.” 

Sam’s concern for you is evident in his expression as he strides towards you. His eyes soften when they fall on your bound form, and he quickly kneels down beside you. 

“Hold still,” He says, his voice firm yet tender as he unties you. He gently takes your hand, carefully examining the cut. “I wish I could say this is the first time you’ve gotten yourself into a mess like this,” He remarks with a faint smile. 

You unwrap the binds once Sam untied them and stood up, your legs had fallen asleep because you had sat for so long. You stumble for a second and grab onto Sam before regaining your balance. “What can I say, I like to keep you on your toes.” 

Sam’s hand instinctively darts to steady you as you stumble, his arms firm around your waist. His eyes gleam mischievously as he chuckles at your remark. 

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” He replies, his voice tinged with fondness. He holds you close for a moment, his gaze searching your face for any signs of injury. “You alright?”

You nod gently with conviction. "I mean, I nearly got eaten but - it's cool."

Sam arches an eyebrow at your nonchelance, a mix of amusement and concern playing across his features. “Nearly getting eaten is ‘cool’ now, is it?” 

He shakes his head slightly, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. “You’re a trouble magnent, you know that?”

You shrug it off gently. "So are you and Dean." You pause. "Can we get out of here now?"

With a smirk, Sam nods. “Touche.”

He takes one last look around the dimly lit room, ensuring there’s no sign of any remaining vampires, before guiding you towards the exit. 

“Let’s get our of here before you attract anymore unwanted attention.” 

You follow him out, and roll your eyes gently at his comment. “And Dean?” You ask - assuming he had come to save you along with Sam. 

Sam leads you out of the warehouse, guiding you towards the idling Impala parked nearby. Just as the cool night air greets your face, you hear the familiar sound of Dean’s voice.

“Over here!” He waves at the two of you from beside the car, a playful grin on his face. 

"What...you took out the entire nest by yourself?" I asked looking up at Sam. 

Sam flashes a confident smirk, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I had some help.” He replies, his gaze drifting over to Dean.

Dean’s expression was smug, his arms crossed as if he had just won a competition of some kind. “I did have to save his sorry ass once or twice.” He adds cockily. 

You make a sour face at Dean. "Sure you did." You pause, getting into the backseat of the car. "So, another one of our average Wedensday nights."

Sam slides into the front passenger seat, while Dean gets behind the wheel. “Average is an understatement.” He mutters, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

"So," You clear your throat as Dean drives. "Were you worried about me?" You have a lopsided grin on your face, directing your question to Sam. Dean looks into the mirror, seeing your expression - he scoffs under his breath, knowing you and Sam have some weird relationship with each other. He wasn't blind. 

Sam glances over at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knows what you’re doing. “Worried?” He echoes with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, a little.”

Dean’s gaze flicks between the two of you, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. He interjects with a scoff. “Oh, here we go…”

Sam shoots a look of irritation at Dean, silently telling him to shut up. But Dean, as always - never one to stay quiet rolls his eyes. “You two are such a pain.”

Sam ignores Dean’s comment and turns back to you, his gaze softening. “Of course I was worried.” He confesses, his voice gentle. “You always manage to get into trouble, and sometimes it’s hard not to worry.” 

A smirk plays on your lips, enjoying the banter. “Well, someone’s got to add some excitement to your otherwise, boring lives.” You retort. 

Sam can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Yeah, yeah - we’d be so lost without you and your constant need for danger.”

You nodded with a lopsided grin on your face. “My next plan is to get captured by a demon.” 

Sam’s smirk fades a little, replaced by a mixture of concern and annoyance. “Let’s not make getting captured a regular occurrence, alright?” He says, his voice bordering on stern.

Dean chimes in from the front, a sarcastic tone to his voice, “Oh yeah, we’ll just add that to the list of your other brilliant plans.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back into the seat. “You two are no fun. Just trying to spice things up a bit.”

Sam shakes his head. “You need a ‘handle with care’ sign on your back.” 

taglist; @edith-lynch

[l0veophelia]

✧.* POSTING SCHEDULE

this is my new posting schedule (sub-to-change once i have more classes) but as of 2025/04/17 this is the current schedule!

i've had alot of people ask me when i'm posting so i thought i'd clarify the best i can;

every friday there will be a oneshot posted.

every wednesday there will be one story chapter posted (no stories atm)

[l0veophelia]

𖤐.ᐟ ACADEMIC ATTRACTION

college!lipgallagher x richsorority!femalereader

genre: fluff?

word count: 2.2k words

summary: you and lip are academic rivals, it turns out he's staying in the same sorority house as you - and you two cross paths in the worst way possible.

warnings: sexual comments, swearing (it says fuck once), pet names

a/n: the sexual tension here is CRAZYYY

The sorority house bathroom is dimly lit, the fluorescent lights flickering slightly as steam rises from one of the shower stalls. You're already inside, the warm water cascading over you, washing away the stress of the day. You hum softly to yourself, the sound drowned out by the spray of the showerhead.

Suddenly, your gaze shifts to the corner of the stall—and you freeze. There it is. The enormous spider, its spindly legs moving slowly and deliberately, as if taunting you. You let out a blood-curdling scream, your voice echoing through the tiled room and beyond.

Lip is down the hall, engrossed in studying for an upcoming exam —a class where he and you constantly compete for top scores. The scream jolts him upright, and instinct takes over. Without hesitation, he sprints toward the source of the noise, adrenaline pumping.

He bursts through the bathroom door without thinking, stopping abruptly as he sees her, soaking in a wet towel and clutching at the edge of the stall. Recognition dawns, and his expression flickers between concern and awkwardness. “You’re the one who screamed?” he blurts, clearly taken aback.

Your finger trembles as you point at the spider. “Do something!” You yell, your voice laced with both fear and frustration.

“Goddamnit,” he mutters under his breath, quickly assessing the situation. He takes a step forward, his gaze fixed on the spider. It's a big one, and you can see the tension building in his shoulders as he approaches the creature.

"Alright, stay calm. I'll-" His words are cut off as the spider unexpectedly scuttles towards you, causing you to let out another horrified scream.

Lip glances at the spider, rolling his eyes slightly. “Jesus christ, it’s just a tiny house spider. It’s completely harmless.” Despite his apparent indifference, there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice.

He rolls his eyes again, clearly amused at your overreaction. "Alright, fine." He grabs a towel off the rack and nonchalantly smacks the spider into oblivion. "There. It's gone. No need to freak out." He turns back to face you, trying to suppress the half smirk on his face.

You were about to say thanks but, that was when you realized it was Lip Gallagher. You had almost every lecture and class with him. And you hated each others guts. You, rich and privileged and him, from the Southside.

His smirk vanishes. He clearly recognizes you too. You two have been at odds since freshman year, constantly competing for top grades and engaging in petty squabbles. The tension between you is palpable.

"You've got to be kidding me." You shift the towel you were holding. It was completely soaked, considering you grabbed it to wrap yourself when you started screaming.

"I could say the same about you," Lip shoots back, his eyes flickering down to the soaked towel in your shaky hands. The sight of you in your current state, half-naked and clearly rattled, seems to be affecting him more than he would care to admit.

He swallows hard, his gaze locking with yours for a moment. There's an intensity there, a flicker of something else underlying the tension. But then he shakes his head slightly, as if to snap himself out of it.

"Can't even handle a damn spider, eh?" He can't resist the dig, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Some academic you are.”

He narrows his eyes, taking a step towards you. The room feels suddenly smaller, the already-thin air between you crackling with a mix of tension and something else.

"Oh, come on. You can't handle a little competition?" He jabs back, challenging you with a smirk. "Afraid I'll beat you again in Professor Andrews' class?"

"Can you let me put some clothes on before I kick your ass?" You tried to sound tough...but your collier earrings gave you away.

He lets out a scoff, his smirk softening into a slight smirk. "Oh, sure, princess. Wouldn't want you kicking my ass while you're dripping wet." He crosses his arms, his gaze lingering a moment too long on your towel-clad form.

You roll your eyes at him and carefully walk into a toilet stall. You weren't about to change in the regular shower stall.

He snorts, his eyes following you as you disappear into the stall. "Chicest toilet in the house, huh?" he mutters to himself, leaning against the edge of the sink.

As you change, he fidgets with a loose thread on his sleeve. His thoughts are a whirlwind, torn between the satisfaction of seeing you in such a vulnerable position and a growing curiosity about what's hiding under that towel.

He leans against the door nonchalantly, the smirk back on his face. "Maybe I'm hoping to catch another glimpse of you in that towel." He teases, knowing it would irritate you.

His comment causes you to pause for a moment, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks before you manage to respond.

"Dream on," you scoff, finally emerging from the stall, clothed but still damp from the shower.

He lazily pushes off the wall as you walk out, his gaze roaming over you. The sight of you, dressed in silk pajamas.

"Looks like you've recovered from your little spider trauma," he remarks, his tone casual yet mocking. "Back to being the preppy princess, huh?"

"I'm going back to studying, bye." You shuffled past him.

He watches you walk past, his gaze lingering on the way your silk pajamas swish around your hips. A part of him wants to say something, to prolong this little encounter, but he holds back.

As you begin to step out of the bathroom, he calls after you. "Hey, Princess?"

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Why? Can't handle a little nickname?"

He slowly stalks towards you, closing the distance until he's towering over you. His gaze locks with yours, a challenge in his eyes. "You love it, admit it."

He laughs, watching you walk off, amused by your stubborn determination to end the interaction. But there's something else beneath that smirk, a curiosity he can't quite shake.

As you turn the corner, disappearing from sight, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, a small sigh escaping his lips. Despite everything, he finds himself strangely disappointed that you were gone.

As you make your way back to your room, you feel a strange mix of emotions. The memory of the spider incident combined with the unexpected encounter with Lip swirls through your mind.

The silence of the sorority house wraps around you, broken only by the soft sounds of your footsteps. As you reach your room, you can't help but feel a sense of turmoil, torn between the usual academic rivalry with Lip and a growing intrigue that refuses to fade away.

As you close the door to your room, you lean against it, your mind still replaying the events of the evening. The image of Lip's smirk, his eyes flickering over your damp form wrapped in a towel, refuses to leave your thoughts.

With a sigh, you run your fingers through your damp hair, the silk of your pajamas gliding against your skin. Despite your attempt to dismiss the incident, there was a small flutter of something else, a hint of excitement and anticipation that you couldn't ignore.

You open your textbook, the words swimming in your vision as your mind struggles to concentrate. Despite your efforts, you find yourself rereading the same sentence multiple times, your thoughts stubbornly drifting back to that smirk on Lip's face, the way he had taunted you.

As the hours ticked by, a sharp knock on your door suddenly snapped you out of your focus. Startled, you look up from your textbook, confused about who could possibly be at the door at this hour.

You sigh, irritated that you have to get up and open the door. With a grumble, you make your way to the door and open it, expecting to find one of the sorority sisters.

However, your eyes widen in surprise as you see Lip Gallagher standing on the other side.

Lip leaned nonchalantly against the doorway, a half-smirk on his face. "You're still awake." He drawls, his gaze roaming over your damp hair and silk pajamas.

You cross your arms. "What the fuck do you want?"

He pushed himself off the doorway and sauntered inside, his presence suddenly filling the room. "I have a proposition."

He walked over to your desk, picking up a pen and idly toying with it. His gaze remains fixed on you, studying your expression. "You and I are constantly neck and neck in our classes. Always competing, right?"

You move to sit on your bed. "And?"

He continues to toy with the pen, his gaze drifting towards your bed before returning to your face. "It's tiring, isn't it? Constantly trying to one-up each other. Wouldn't it be better if we just...teamed up?"

The words that came out of his mouth didn't even sound like his own.

You felt the same way. His proposition was unexpected, and it took a moment for you to register it fully. Teaming up? With Lip Gallagher? The guy you had spent so much time and energy trying to one-up?

He could see the incredulity on your face, and he let out a lazy smirk. "Don't look so shocked. Working together is actually a pretty logical solution if you think about it. We could combine our notes, study together. It'll maximize our chances of getting the top spot."

He leans against the edge of your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look, you and I are the two smartest in every goddamn class. We're the only ones who can really keep up with each other. So why not use that to our advantage?"

You thought about it in your head for a few seconds. "Fine." You paused. "But this doesn't make us friends."

He chuckled, amused by your insistence on maintaining some distance. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. We're still enemies, princess. This is just a temporary truce for academic benefit."

You nod in agreement. "Glad we're on the same page." You pause and glance at him -he's still looking at you with those eyes. "What?" Your voice had a type of hostility to your voice.

His gaze flicked over your form, his smirk growing. "Oh, nothing. Just admiring the view." His eyes lingered on your silk pajamas for a moment longer, appreciating the way they hugged your curves.

You shook your head at him. "That's not happening." You stated simply. You knew where he was trying to go with this.

He chuckled, a lazy smirk spreading across his face. "Can't even take a little harmless flirting?" He pushed himself off the desk and walked over to the edge of your bed, standing right infront of you.

You looked up at him, shifting your weight on your bed - almost awkwardly. "I hate you."

He chuckled softly, his gaze locked with yours. "The feeling is mutual, princess." Despite his words, his eyes continued to roam over your form, taking in your damp hair and silk pajamas. "But you can't deny there's some kind of chemistry between us."

You rolled your eyes. "No, there isn't." You denied...but was that really true?

He stepped a little bit closer, narrowing the distance between you. "Oh, come on." He scoffed, his gaze fixed on your face. "You can't tell me you haven't felt it. The tension, the thrill of our constant one-upmanship."

He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "Tell me you haven't thought about how good it would feel to finally give in to it. Just once."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, your gaze fixed on his face; so close to your own. You hated the way your body reacted to his closeness, the way your heart beat a little faster at his words. His eyes gleamed with a mix of challenge and desire, and you knew in that moment that he knew. He knew the affect he had on you.

"It's just academic rivalry." You said weakly.

He chuckled, an arrogant smirk tugging at his lips. "Is it?" He brought a hand up to your face, gently tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. "Or is it something more than that?" His touch was soft, yet possessive at the same time. His nearness was dizzying, and you felt your resolve crumbling.

You grab one of the textbooks off of your bed and shove it into his hands. You got up off your bed, with one of your notebooks in your hand before you moved back to your desk. "I have to study for this test."

He let out a low laugh, catching the textbook in his hands. "Oh, always focused on academics. Can't blame you, though. We both know that's what we do best."

He watched as you moved back to your desk, his eyes roaming over your figure in the silk pajamas once more. "Alright, let's get to studying then." He moved to a nearby chair, taking a seat next to your desk.

You glance at him. You couldn't beleive you were teaming up with him - this was going to be a long night.

He catches your gaze and grins. "Eyes on the book, princess."

taglist; @edith-lynch

[l0veophelia]

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ONESHOTS

academic attraction | 2.2k words | college!lipgallagher x richsorority!femalereader 🧸 you and lip are academic rivals, it turns out he's staying in the same sorority house as you - and you two cross paths in the worst way possible.