#(I'm sure someone has made at least that first gif already...How could they not!

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

CAN WE HAVE DOEY BEING A PLATONIC YANDERE TO THE PLAYER?? I WONDER HOW HE WOULD ACT GIVEN HIS CONFLICTING PERSONALITIES AND EMOTIONS DUE TO BEING MADE OUT OF THREE KIDS

Yes, you absolutely can! This ended up being way longer than I first planed and I'm actually pretty proud of it :)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me.

Platonic yandere Doey & Reader

★ When Doey first meets the Player, he is intrigued. It's not every day you meet someone who keeps cheating the grim reaper. As Doey spends more time with the Player, he realizes that they are different than most employes. You are nice and treat him kindly.

★ His conflicting personalities create a strange mix of curiosity and adoration inside of him. Especially after you stay to help the Safe Haven instead of working with Poppy. Plus, the Player has been through so much already. They really should take a break.

★ He goes above and beyond to make them feel comfortable and secure in their new home. He introduces them to the other toys, making sure they feel included and part of their little community. Tries to help them relax after what they have been through, also.

★Doey becomes emotionally dependent on the Player, deriving a sense of purpose and stability from their presence. The thought of losing the Player or not being able to protect them fills him with fear and anxiety, fueling his yandere tendencies.

★ All three parts of him agree on one thing, protect the Player at all costs. That means not letting them leave the Safe Haven. At least not without him. It comes from a place of genuine care, having concern for the Player's well-being.

★ He prioritizes their needs, ensuring the Player feels safe and loved. If the player were to reciprocate his care by doing things to make him feel valued, it would mean the world to him. If it's not too much, could he pretty please hold your hand? (please say yes)

★ The player's consistent care builds trust between them. That trust is very important. Never break it or you might regret it. Doey is still unstable at times, and he could still lash out at you if the wrong button is pushed.

★ Yandere Doey is very possessive, he is aware of this and tries his best not to be. He really wants to give the Player the freedom they deserve but at the same time he fears losing you to others and may become anxious if you spend too much time with another toy.

★ Those thoughts are silly, he knows it, you would never abandon him for a new friend. However, that nagging voice in his head tells him differently. It may end up with him subtly manipulating the Player. It was for friendship though so it's okay!

★ He might use guilt or even fear to keep the Player close, making them feel responsible for his emotional well-being. The thought of the Player getting hurt when he's gone fills him with all sorts of bad feelings. Ones he doesn't even want to think about.

★ By this time it's too late to go back. He is too afraid of being abandoned, if you suggest going off to finish what you started and killing the prototype he would have a panic attack.

★ His conflicting personalities are unified in their fear of the Player facing danger and he becomes visibly distressed. It's too dangerous! If you leave and never come back, what will he do? Doey may even go as far as physically putting himself between the Player and the exit if it comes down to it.

[dixonsdarkelf]

Words of Affirmation: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

Summary: After you’re taken in by a group occupying West Georgia Correctional, you’re sent on a run with a particular archer. Much to his dismay, you try to strike up a conversation, and one little interaction leads you to wonder if those feelings you'd been bottling up may be reciprocated.

Main masterlist Daryl x Reader Masterlist AO3 link

Genre: Fluff

Era: Season 3, Prison era

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Swearing, I'm pretty sure that's it!

A/N: Thank you to my angel @dixons-sunshine for beta-reading for me & helping me with the parts where I felt stuck 🖤 This one was giving me a lot of trouble, and I still feel kinda eh about it. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

“What’s your love language, Daryl?”

The fresh-fallen leaves crunched under your boots as you skipped along, doing your best to keep up with your rough-and-tumble companion. Crisp autumn air swirled in your lungs as you inhaled deeply, a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in ages washing over you. Aside from your voice and pairs of footsteps, the world around you was still. Even the birds were quiet, only an occasional chirp-chirp piercing the silence.

“The hell ya goin’ on ‘bout?” Daryl groaned. He didn’t even so much as turn to look as you strode up next to him. You exhaled softly, trying not to take his stinging tone personally.

You knew he hadn’t wanted you to come along. In the short amount of time you’d known the archer, one thing had become abundantly clear—he preferred solitude, and he didn’t like that solitude being intruded upon. But when someone needed to go on a run with him, Rick chose you, saying that since you were new, Daryl could “show you the ropes”.

“The new girl?” he’d argued. “Ya serious?”

“Show her how we do things,” Rick ordered, hands on his hips. “You’re the best one for that job.”

Rick was right. Daryl was the best one for the job, so despite his protests, he agreed. Though you knew he didn’t want you to join, you weren’t complaining.

Daryl had caught your eye from the moment you’d sprinted through those gates, running from a horde of walkers far bigger than you could’ve anticipated. He was beautiful—unkempt chocolate locks framing his face, toned, sun-tanned arms that made you drool more than any meal ever had, and crystal blue eyes so deep, you thought you’d drown if you looked at them for too long. But that didn’t stop you from sneaking glances.

Daryl only had two rules for you on this run—keep up & don’t talk. And now, you were already deep into breaking one of those rules.

But rules were meant to be broken, right?

“Your love language,” you repeated, more persistent this time. “What is it?”

He shrugged, crossbow held tight against his chest. His gaze remained straight ahead, scanning the area for walkers as you continued down the secluded dirt road. “Dunno what that means.”

You pursed your lips in thought, the furrow in your brow reflecting the confusion in your mind. Surely, someone so beautiful had to be well-versed in the world of romance. The man was sculpted like a God, and anyone with working eyes could tell that he was gorgeous. “Love languages are...” your voice trailed off. “…different ways people like to receive affection. Everyone has their preferences.”

“Ain’t exactly one for affection,” he snapped, intentionally kicking up dirt as he walked, as if that would somehow prove his point.

“Come on, Dar,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest. You skipped a little in front of him and spun around, forcing him to finally make eye contact. “Everyone has at least one.”

At first, you’d started calling him Dar because you assumed it was a nickname of his. But he quickly made it clear he didn’t appreciate it, and that only spurred you on more. But sometimes, there’d be a glint in his eye. A little twinkle of mischief that made you wonder if he actually liked it. Even just a little bit.

As you met his gaze, that same glint was present. However, it was quickly overshadowed by his calloused response.

“And I ain’t everyone.”

Ignoring his clear signs, you pressed on, walking backwards as you continued your spiel. “The five main ones are physical touch, acts of—“

A sound in the trees caught your attention, cutting you off. But before you could react, Daryl spun around, crossbow aimed at what you both had presumed to be a walker.

Instead, it was a squirrel. The sweet creature had gotten a little too confident about jumping from one tree to another and had fallen. They shook it off for a moment before scrambling to their feet and scampering off, leaves crunching below them.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, you’d noticed something. Daryl had stepped in front of you, just a little, as if he was ready to act like a shield between you and whatever was coming your way. His bow remained locked and loaded, held high like he was waiting for another sound or for a walker to stumble out from behind a tree.

Why would he do that? He had no reason to. You were a stranger to him–a nameless face among all the other nameless faces roaming around the prison. So, what reason did he have to protect you?

Once he was sure there was no imminent threat, he lowered his bow and continued down the road, barely waiting two seconds for you to catch up.

“As I was saying,” you continued, skipping back up to his side, “there’s physical touch, acts of service, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, and quality time.”

“There one where ya dun’ talk ‘n stay silent the rest of the run?” Daryl scoffed.

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes, your tone bone-dry. “Very funny, Dixon.”

After a few beats of silence, much to your surprise, he spoke up. “What’s yours?”

You were more taken aback by his question than anything. And his inflection—one that sounded like he was genuinely curious—perplexed you even more. Was he really asking a “get-to-know-you” question? Daryl Dixon, the man who self-isolated on a good day & was aggressive with others on a bad one, continuing a conversation? It was unheard of as far as you were concerned.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. “Honestly, words of affirmation. Being told how much I mean to someone, how much they care for me…even little things, like a ‘you did good’ on the small stuff.”

“How come ‘s’that one?” he asked.

“It feels good to know even the little things I do are appreciated,” you elaborated. Your eyes were fixated on some falling leaves in the distance, watching them twirl around each other, almost touching but keeping their distance—barely out of reach. “It makes me feel special. Seen. Like the things I do actually matter.” You looked up at him, squinting to shield the sun from your eyes. “And in a world like this….well, it feels like it means more. Makes me want to keep going.”

He didn’t reply, but simply nodded, understanding evident in his eyes.

The remainder of your walk was spent primarily in silence, but now, it was far from awkward. Things were comfortable, like it was natural rather than forced. The silence that previously pricked at your skin now felt like a warm hug, the desire to fill it slowly slipping away with each step. And out of the corner of your eye, you thought you spotted a hint of a smile tug at his lips.

The run went as smoothly as ever. You cleared out damn near what was left of the convenience store, just enough room in your respective bags to fit what you could find. At one point, you even cracked a joke, eliciting a scoff, with a soft, underlying laugh from him.

And the walk back was much the same—a comfortable silence with an occasional quip from you, which mostly resulted in an eye roll or huff from Daryl. Aside from a few walkers, nothing gave you too much trouble.

Later that evening, after you’d returned from your scavenge and had begun settling in for the evening, there was a soft knock on your cell, the unexpected clanking of metal causing you to jump. Turning around, you were surprised to see Daryl. The bar creaked under his shoulder as he propped himself against the doorframe.

“Jesus, you scared me!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest. “But hi. What’s up?”

He didn’t speak at first, nor did he make eye contact. The tension in the air was heavy, growing thicker with each passing second. You watched him scratch at the broken skin around his thumbnail, a light cock in your eyebrow forming. You’d never seen Daryl fidgety, so…nervous, it seemed.

“Nice job today, Y/N,” he said with a small nod. “Ya did good.”

Just as your racing heart had started to slow, it ramped up again, faster than before. The rumble in your stomach from hunger warped into butterflies, flapping violently and threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Huh…” you mused, crossing your arms over your chest, using every fiber of your being to keep your demeanor calm, cool, and collected. “Didn’t even realize you knew my name.” Your gaze briefly dropped to the floor before meeting his again. “But thank you.”

He shrugged, mimicking your posture and crossing his arms. “Dun’ mention it.”

“Does this mean I can join you on the next one?” you smirked.

“Dun’ push it,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as his gaze met yours. It was only for a few seconds, but it was long enough for goosebumps to form on your skin and a shiver to travel down your spine. He was the first to break it, diverting his eyes to the floor.

You broke the silence with an awkward clearing of your throat, softly shaking your head like you were trying to direct your mind away from the direction it was headed in. “Goodnight, Daryl.”

With another small nod, he sauntered off, dragging your cell door closed behind him. His heavy boots echoed through the otherwise silent concrete halls, trailing off until it was only you & your very loud thoughts.

And as you crawled into bed and drifted off to sleep, you visualized the grumpy, brooding archer, thought of the way the ice had started breaking between the two of you, and you fell asleep with a contented smile.

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Collage above (photos were found on Google), 'continue reading' divider and © message below were created by me. Three-heart divider was created by @/enchanthings.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

How to Woo Someone

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

prompt #1464

“Do you have any tips on how to woo someone?”

“You’re trying to woo someone?”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” from @writers-are-writers

After the fall of The First Order, Poe thought life would be a little easier. But nothing ever came easy to Poe. Well, nothing except flying. Everything else was a bit of a struggle.

Rebuilding the galaxy after everything, was no walk in the park. As a general of the Resistance, Poe, as well as Finn and Rey, worked to make sure the galaxy found its peace again.

In the process, he made a lot more friends, a few enemies, but, most importantly, he met you.

You were basically in charge of your small village in Batuu. Poe and a few others had stopped on the planet to refuel and rest. You met him at the market, noticing the Resistance symbol on his satchel. You two got to talking and you brought him and his friends back to your village.

It was some distance from the Black Spire Outpost.

Your village was previously pillaged through by some First Order troops. You asked for Poe's help and he gave it to you.

What was supposed to be a short stop on an Outer Rim planet ended up being a two month's stay. For Poe, at least. He wanted to personally see to it that you and your village got the help you needed, while he let his friends continue their journey.

Poe helped lay more of a foundation again in your village. You already set up the blueprints, he just helped you carry out the plans.

"We make a great team. Honestly, I could use someone like you with the Resistance."

You snort, "Are you offering me a job?" you nudge him with your shoulder and a smirk on your lips.

"If you want it, yeah. Like I said, we need more people like you. People who are still willing to help others," he sighs and looks away from you, instead, looking out on a group of villagers helping build a new set of homes, "A lot of people lost hope and peace when the First Order took over. I want to restore that to them again."

You slowly nod, "I'd love to help, but I need to talk with my council."

"Of course. I'm here for a few more days so you have time," he places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and then goes to join the group of builders.

__________________________

While also helping you rebuild your village, Poe became acquainted with several members of your council. One of them being your cousin who was around the same age as Poe.

As he was helping the builders, Poe pauses to watch you interact with some of the village children.

Your cousin, Sendril, slaps him on the chest, "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, um, ye-yeah," he struggles to pull his eyes away from you as you laugh at something one of the children say. Then Poe asks Sendril, “Do you have any tips on how to woo someone?”

Sendril cocks a brow and asks back, “You’re trying to woo someone?”

Poe's face scrunches up in confusion, “Why do you have to say it like that?”

Sendril shrugs, "I don't know, you just seem so...serious all the time. Didn't think you'd wanna woo anyone." He continues to place bricks to build a wall of a home.

Poe sighs and joins him, "Well, wooing anyone was the last thing on my mind, but..." he pauses and looks back at you, again. His attention is brough back when Sendril snorts, "Good luck."

"Has Y/N ever been with anyone?" Poe asks as he smears concrete and then places a brick down.

"Once, didn't go well. They left her to go explore the galaxy with someone else. She was heartbroken, never saw or heard of her being with anyone else since."

Poe hums, "Would she be interested?"

"In you?" Sendril asks, looking at Poe. When Poe nods, Sendril scrunches up his nose, "Honestly, I'm not sure. Considering you don't plan on being here for much longer, probably not."

"I asked her if she'd want to come with me, help people rebuild around the galaxy."

"What'd she say?"

"She has to talk to the council. Do you think they'd let her go?"

Sendril hums, "It's likely. Y/N is a great leader and has helped us keep our heads above water since the First Order pillaged us, but we're stronger now. We can continue without her." He stands up and crosses his arms over his chest. Sendril may be around the same age as Poe but he's taller and stronger. He casts an intimidating shadow over Poe as he asks, "And are you going to treat her right?"

"If she allows something to happen between us, then yes. While I've only been here for a short time, I already know Y/N to be a strong, caring, and wise person. I admire how well she's led you all through these tough times. She's also funny and beautiful and kind-"

Sendril rolls his eyes and interrupts him, "Alright, I get it. You're smitten for my cousin. I'll give you my blessing since I'm the only family she has left, however, hurt her-"

"And you'll lay me in the ground, I got it."

Your cousin snorts, "No. She'd do that to you, herself. But I'd help bury your body."

"...Thanks, Dril."

"You're welcome, Poe!"

______________________________

You told Poe you’d be seeing the council that morning to discuss your potential leave.

Outside of the building, Poe couldn’t help but pace back and forth. He understands if the council would prefer for you to stay since the village is still in the process of rebuilding. However, Poe really thinks you could do a lot of good around other parts of the galaxy as well. So he hopes the council sees it too.

It was thirty minutes of deliberation before you stepped out.

“Well?”

You smile at him, “When do we leave?”

Poe immediately pulls you into a hug a swings you around, “You’re going to do amazing things out there, Y/N. I just know it.”

You giggle in his embrace, “Thanks, Poe,” you say as you pull away.

You two stare at each other in silence. Poe’s eyes are soft as he looks back at you and then glances at your lips.

He slowly leans in towards you, giving you time to pull away. But you don’t, so when his lips touch yours, he pulls you closer.

You kiss him back with intensity, the secret feelings you’ve kept buried inside you for the past two months. Those feelings and thoughts of Poe spilling out as you kiss him back.

“So this is how you woo her?”

You both pull away to see Sendril leaning against the council building with a smirk.

You clear your throat and ask, “Woo who?”

Poe sighs and shakes his, “Ignore him.”

Sendril laughs, “Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” he shoots a wink at you and carries on his with his day.

Poe clears his throat, “So, um, should probably start packing. Got the whole galaxy to see.”

You smile brightly at him, “Right.”

You step aside and begin to walk to your home, but then you turn around, “For the record, I do still expect you to woo me, Dameron.”

He laughs, “Don’t worry. I plan too,” he smirks your way before you turn back to head home.

[gracieheartspedro]

Lotus Eater | chapter 4 - 3.7k words

my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist

previous chapter - next chapter

summary: you decide to accept your fate as apart of the outcasts. unfortunately, your ex best friend assumes a bit too much about you and eddie and it leads to some interesting conversations.

warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, bullying, discussions about drugs/dealing drugs, eddie is very subtle about his flirting but it's there, heated arguments, mentions of abusive/neglectful parents, your dad is a dirtbag (remember that)

a/n: welcome back party people! so i know this is a slow burn but i promise most of this stuff is important for the story and context. i really appreciate everyone's love on this series! i'm enjoying writing and sharing it! if you wanna be on the taglist, please let me know!

You take Eddie up on his offer. You sit with him and the rest of the Hellfire Club during lunch on Monday. You just observe, though, only watching as they all talk animatedly. You catch Eddie shooting you glances every time someone makes a comment that you may find offensive. You can tell he’s soaking up every moment of having a girl at his table, though—a girl he invited. 

The boys pester you with questions at first, asking why you decided to drop your cooler friend for Eddie. Eddie ensures to dismiss each question for you, informing the group that this was not a press conference and you were not accepting questions at this time. His remark made a smirk crawl across your face. 

“We gotta plan out what we are doing for Spring Break, guys,” Grant pesters as he finishes off his school nachos. The melted cheese did not look edible but he ate them quicker than anyone you have ever seen. 

“You think your Pops would let us stay at the lake house?” Jeff asks, directing his eyes at Grant. Eddie shifts in his seat, looking excited. 

Grant shrugs, licking the salt from the tortillas off his fingers. “I could ask. Last year we camped and I hated sharing a tent with Gareth.”

Gareth is quick to perk up, his mousy hair bouncing with purpose. “You forgot to wear deodorant the entire time!”

“A guy forgets one item and suddenly he’s the devil! You’re the one who truly stunk up the entire tent with your-“

“Shut up!” Eddie’s voice rings, aiming his annoyance at the guys arguing beside you. You cower, almost like you are trying to hide under the table. “The lady at our table does not want to hear about The Tent Debacle of ‘84. Leave it there, boys.”

They both roll their eyes, shooting each other glares. 

“Grant,” Eddie addresses, pointing his pretzel stick at him, “Talk to your Daddy-O about the lake house. I’m sure we could all pitch in for food and gas. It would be a very nice escape from the bullshit that is Hawkins.”

Grant shifts in his chair, making it squeal across the linoleum. “Sure thing. I’ll get back to you.”

It was interesting to see this dynamic up close. The guys surely respected Eddie, but they also feared him a bit. You could tell by the body language between him and Grant. Maybe it was intimidation, but to you, Eddie was the least threatening person you knew. Well, maybe not the least.

The discussion resumes with talks of their next campaign. You did not understand Dungeons and Dragons, so you listened in on their talks of mythical creatures and defeating them. 

You eventually join towards the tail end of the conversation when Gareth asks how your car is coming along. 

“Saved $150 so far. Hoping to be outta Eddie’s hair soon,” You manage, balling up a bag of potato chips. You had four more shifts this month, so that’s like $40 in tips. It’s very doable. 

You see Eddie’s hair swish beside you. “What? You don’t enjoy my chauffeur services, sunshine?”

The table goes quiet, all looking towards you and Eddie. You close your eyes, trying your best to hide your disdain for the infamous nickname he has tacked onto you. You also already feel like you have said too much, only wanting to be an observer of the group.

You clear your throat, “Rather sit in silence than listen to screaming all morning and afternoon.”

The giggles that creep around the table give you a bit of confidence, but you still refuse to look at the other guys. 

“My music isn’t all screaming-”

“Not your music, Eddie,” You choke out, unable to stop yourself from correcting him. His face drops, playfully feigning offense.

His friends continue to laugh and so does he. His boisterous laugh rings out as the bell rings to indicate it is time to get back to class. You both stand up in unison while his other friends scatter, heading to separate areas of the school. 

Eddie looks at you, almost with admiration. 

“I think you fit right in with us.”

-

After lunch you walk to your locker, stacking books in a particular order and catching a glance at Kacey sucking faces with Gabe across the hall. You shift your eyes, immediately getting distracted when Eddie slams into your locker. You thought you lost him in the crowd.

His smile makes a chill go down your spine. Ever since that night, you smoked with him, something deep rumbled in the pit of your stomach whenever he smiled at you. Those creeping brushes across your back when he was trying to get around you. The gentle pats on your leg when you say something ironic or funny on the way home. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, why?” You shrug, grabbing your math textbook, and tucking it under your left arm. You could not look at him head-on, knowing that familiar feeling would settle in your tummy. 

The sweater you chose to wear today was not allowing a good enough grip, so you are noticeably struggling with your belongings. 

He tilts his head towards you, his smile warping into something more serious. He grabs the book from your arm, holding it in his hand as you gain your bearings. “You were quiet most of lunch. Took Gareth all lunch to finally make you talk, and even then you weren’t chatty.”

Ever the observant one, you think to yourself. Unfortunately, you now had a nagging presence constantly watching you. Eddie Munson was like your own personal surveillance.

You slam your locker shut, eyes shifting around to spot some particular members of Gabe’s clan making eyes at you. You look back at Eddie, trying to act like your anxiety has not peaked, “Am I ever not quiet around other people?”

His smile returns, this time wider, “Not with me, sunshine.” 

You return a smile, something you did not do often. But his response is so dopey and innocent, that you cannot help yourself. You look down at your book, still in his large hands. His rings were so over the top and unique that you could not help but stare at them as you pry your textbook away.

That is until you sense some rapid footsteps nearby. You can feel your heart racing, almost beating out of your chest, knowing it has to be them. You refuse to show Eddie that you are unnerved; he will simply stir the pot like he always does. You have a suspicion that if someone bullied you in front of him, he would absolutely play hero. You did not need a hero.

You manage to keep your smile anyway, the corners of your mouth trembling a bit. Little do you know, that’s what tipped him off that something was wrong. 

“Well, count yourself as one of the lucky few,” You manage, sucking at the back of your teeth.

Eddie looks over his shoulder, catching onto what was triggering such a response. Two of the guys are creeping closer, scanning you up and down like you are their next prey. You could not figure out what their intentions were, but you knew it was bound to embarrass you in front of Eddie. 

They stop the moment Eddie makes eye contact with them, acting like they are talking about something serious. 

He looks back at you, his expression serious.

“Want me to walk you to class?”

Your brows knit together, surprised he has not immediately instigated chaos with the crew eyeing you. You shake your head anyway, declining his offer. “I’ll survive.”

His head drops down to your height and you realize he is trying to not take no for an answer. “Hey, just-”

You put your hand up, waving his sentence away like it’s dust in the air. You need to change the subject before it does turn into something else. “I’m gonna stay a bit late after school today for extra credit in math. Do you think you could stay around until I’m done?”

His brows raise, disappearing under his unruly bangs. “Yeah, that’s not a problem. I’ll just chill in the library.”

“Cool, I’ll see you then. Promise I won’t be too long,” You pat his bicep gently, sidestepping him, and practically sprint to your next class. 

-

You were growing to hate math. It’s the only subject you are struggling with. Too much memorization and equations. You needed this extra boost to keep your grade above 95. 

You rest your head on a balled fist as you complete the extra credit equations, overthinking every number and calculation as you go. Once you feel like you did the best you could, you shove the paper in the ‘turn-in’ pile on the teacher’s desk.

You wish Miss Davis a good evening and head into the almost completely empty hallways. Your sneakers squeak against the linoleum as you second-guess every answer you scribbled down on the paper.  

When you turn the corner to the library, you stop dead in your tracks. Through the library doors, you see Kacey and Gabe. Both leaned over a long table between the bookstacks. You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something was wrong and you did not know what.

You push open the doors, attracting their eyes. When they move away, you see Eddie in front of them. He looks confused and a bit annoyed. 

Shit. 

You grip the strap of your backpack and make your way over, practically accepting a bitter fate. 

“What’s going on?”

Your voice cracks a bit. You refuse to look at Kacey head-on, only looking between Gabe and Eddie. Unfortunately, it is her voice that slices through the silence.

“Asking your little boyfriend if he has a better hookup than our current guy.”

Your head snaps towards her. She looks awful. Her skin is bright red, only slightly disguised by the orange makeup she’s trying to cover it with. Her eyes are heavy. She looks how your Aunt Carol looked before she got sober and moved to California.

“What?”

You do not even really catch on to her calling him your boyfriend, you were stuck on the fact that she was looking for drugs. You did not know Eddie dealt anything more than weed, so the idea that they are simply looking for that is pretty unbelievable. You peer over at him, eyes narrow and perplexed. 

Kacey leans closer to you, successfully wedging you between her and her stale-smelling boyfriend. You instantly inhale her familiar vanilla perfume as she draws closer to you and it brings a dreadful feeling to the pit of your stomach. “Your drug dealer boyfriend.”

Eddie finally finds his voice. Through gritted teeth, he simply says, “I’m not her boyfriend.”

You swallow hard, looking back at Kacey. She’s too far gone. Whatever drug she’s on has completely stolen the light from her eyes. It makes your heart hurt, imagining her getting put on hard drugs to numb away her depression. She may have felt insecure and unwanted, but she still feigned some optimism within the last year. Once Gabe sunk his claws into her, deep down you knew it would be her unraveling. Unfortunately, there was no changing her mind once it was made up. You knew that after being friends with her since elementary school. She was stubborn to a fault. 

If last year you had been told this is how she would turn out, you would laugh and call whoever said that crazy. 

Eddie’s chair shifts as he stands up, the chain on his pants clacking against the wooden table. You wiggle away from her and Gabe, rounding the table to join Eddie.

“Eddie, let’s just go-”

Kacey does not take kindly to you rushing their conversation. She steps in front of you two, effectively blocking the door. She stumbles a bit, trying to grab at your wrist, which you successfully dodge. She continues to giggle, walking backward now, “You’re such a prude! Your boyfriend is a druggie and you’re a fuckin’ prude! Let the man get some clients.”

Anger. It starts to bubble over as you watch her sway in her spot. Your shoulders droop, but not in a defeated way. You were sick to your stomach with annoyance and a newfound hatred for this person you do not recognize. You press your shoulder into Eddie’s chest. There’s a small prickle of electricity going across your skin as you completely shift away from her. “Get off drugs, Kacey. It doesn’t suit you.”

She barks a laugh, completely disturbing the other people in the library. You knew the librarian was ramping up to kick you out and you would not blame her.

“Fuck off. You think you're holier than thou when,” She looks at Eddie, her eyes widening like she’s trying to look at him clearer, “That is your boyfriend?!”

“Kacey, he’s not my boyfriend,” You say through gritted teeth with your fists balled up at your sides. You see out of the corner of your eye, a smaller older woman approaching a turtle speed. You did not need to be banned from the school library. You needed to leave now.

But Kacey is still going, “Sure he isn’t. And Gabe isn’t mine.”

You chuckle, trying your best not to instigate more. But for some nagging reason, you needed her to know your stance on her stupidly high boyfriend. You are surprised he has not said anything this whole interaction. But once you get a quick look at him, you see it’s because he is practically nodding off standing up.

“I wish he wasn’t,” You bite, chin tilting upward and away from her. Kacey’s face gets redder, if that’s even possible.

“You bitch,” She rushes forward, making a beeline for you. Eddie’s arm is quicker, though, wrapping around you and pushing you behind him. You never had a guy grab you like that before and it’s dizzying. 

As soon as he does that, Kacey stumbles in her tracks. Her face contorts from anger to something more smug. Like she knows something you don’t. 

You wish you could see the look on Eddie’s face. 

“Back off,” He demands, looking down at the much smaller girl. She’s only up to his chest and completely off balance. You definitely felt well-guarded with Eddie in front of you.

She clicks her tongue, “What are you gonna do, freak?”

He shakes his head, his arm still partially trained on your midsection, “We aren’t doing this. Just don’t.”

Eddie had practically protected you from two incidents today. He really was like having a bodyguard. But you hated the fact that you seemed so helpless in these situations. Had Eddie not been here, what would you have done? Your mind starts to race at all the possibilities and you realize you have virtually tuned out Kacey’s ramblings.

“Let’s just go,” You say, tugging Eddie’s worn leather jacket. It shakes him out of his stare-down with Kacey. He finally moves, keeping you close to him as he moves past the both of them. Kacey starts to say things under her breath, but the librarian finally quips up, telling her that she needs to leave. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you and Eddie walk to his van. You do not even realize you are still locked onto his side until you are halfway through the parking lot. You unlatch from him when you finally notice, wrapping your own arms around your body.

This would be an awkward ride home.

–

Of course, there is road work.

Eddie taps on the steering wheel even when there is no music playing. You try to hide the fact that you are trying to still your racing heart rate with some deep breathing. 

“Your friend is on some hard shit,” Eddie states, inching closer to the car in front of him. The sun shifts up your legs when he lets off the gas, warming you instantly. You needed to stop shaking.

Your voice was gravelly when you spoke up, “I know. That’s why I stopped talking to her.”

Eddie shakes his head, almost trying to wrap his head around it all. He is still not looking over at you as he continues, “She had no color in her eyes. Her pupils were huge.”

You sigh, looking down at your picked-over fingers, “Eddie, I know.”

You play each moment back in your head. When you rewind, you think about the look on Eddie’s face when you arrived. He seemed disoriented and bewildered with whatever Kacey and Gabe were spewing. 

“What were they saying before I got there?” You press, finally shooting him a glance. 

He taps his fingers and you can tell there is something he wants to say, but he won’t just say it. 

“Their dealer gave them some laced shit, apparently. They wanted to know if I sold what they were looking for,” He explains, his foot hitting the gas a bit to spring the van forward. He slowly picks up speed as you contemplate your follow-up question.

“Do you have what they are looking for?”

It’s a question you really do not want to know the answer to, but for some reason, you ask it. You silently hope that Eddie is not the dealer you think he is.

You are let down immediately when his head turns and his eyes are pleading at you.

“Yeah,” his voice is small, like he is trying to let you down easy. They are not using just marijuana. By the state of their appearances, they have to be on pills of some sort. Maybe cocaine. But you rather not know the specifics, so you put your hand up, indicating to him to stop talking. 

“Just promise me you won’t sell to them.”

His head goes up and down, agreeing to your terms. “Promise.”

-

The familiar crackling of Eddie’s wheels hitting your street brings you out of your daze. You had been quiet for the last 10 minutes, not sure what else to say to Eddie. 

The moment Eddie parks in his driveway, you spot your Dad walking out of your house in the side mirror. He was usually never home when you got out of school, so when you open the door, you immediately shoot a look his way. 

He has his arms crossed, eyes narrowed in you two’s direction. You get out of the car slowly, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. 

“What’s up?” You ask, your voice sharp and to the point. He shrugs, his dirty fingernails curling into his left bicep. 

He does not say anything until Eddie’s feet scrape across the pavement. He flicks his head towards Eddie’s direction as he starts stalking down the broken-down wooden steps.  “You giving that boy gas money for toting your ass around?”

His drawn-out voice makes your skin crawl sometimes. He was not as bad as you Mom when it came to neglecting your feelings, but he was a bigger smartass than Eddie. Somehow that was possible. 

You could tell most of the time he meant well, but his parents never cared much about his feelings either. He came from a long line of fucked up. And as much as you hated him for it, deep down you pitied him. 

Eddie’s voice cuts through the breeze like a knife. He waits to respond until your dad is right across the street, not stepping onto the street or Eddie’s property. “That’s not necessary, sir. She’s not a bother.”

Your dad’s half-toothed smile makes you believe he is impressed with Eddie’s response. But as soon as he smiles, you notice a quirk in his brow that makes your already-shot nerves buzz with unease. 

“Right,” Your dad whispers, his eyes flicking to you, “Your momma told me that you had a good amount of money saved to fix your wheels. That right?”

You avoided talking about money with your dad. He still owed you after borrowing your Christmas money this past summer. He said something about the electric bill being overdue, but you noticed how he started smoking the more expensive cigarettes that entire month. He was never a very good liar. 

You could feel Eddie’s eyes burn a hole in the side of your head as you responded. “Yeah.”

Your dad hummed in response, “That’s a good thing, darling. That car is gonna cost you probably $1000 to get fixed up.”

Your eyes fly open, shaking your head quickly, “A thousand?! Says who?”

“Got my mechanic friend to come look at it earlier. Said that you may be better buyin’ a whole new car.”

Your heart practically shatters at the idea that you would need triple the intended goal. It would take you a whole year to save that much, especially if you are only working at the diner. 

You shift on your heels, crossing your arms over your chest in contempt. You do not know why the fact that your father is delivering this news makes you even more angry, but it does. He almost looks sickly happy that you would not be able to have your own transportation, even though he’s the one who initially bought you the car. 

He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. Marlboro Reds. 

He puts one between his teeth and cups it with his hand as he lights the end and takes a long drag. He places the filter between his grime-covered fingers. “Make sure you pay your driver something. You owe this boy something for his time and gas.”

You knew he was trying to prove a point here. And you were not falling for it. 

And apparently, neither was Eddie. “Her presence is enough payment. Your daughter is a joy to be around.”

There’s not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. You can spot his bullshit from a mile away, but he’s somehow being sincere. You shoot him a look, almost surprised. 

Even though you can catch onto the fibbing from Eddie Munson, your dad cannot. 

“Yeah, she’s a joy just like her momma.”

Eddie joins his hands together in front of his waist, shaking his dark brown curls. You silently plea for him not to say anything, but he does. 

“Maybe even more so, sir.”

Your dad scoffs.

divider by @saradika-graphics <3

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[rifari2037]

Always???

Just because there's a fanart of Zutara with Fire Nation culture, doesn't mean Zutara with Water Tribe culture never existed at all.

In one fanart, Zuko and Katara share cultures. Katara tries spicy Fire Nation food. Then, Zuko wears a parka and experiencing life in the pole.

Katara has to wear FN clothing!

Zutara shipper once made Zutara's wedding with Southern Water Tribe culture in South Pole. I don't see 'Katara has to wear Fire Nation clothing' there.

Zuko doesn't have to make an effort with her culture!

The same Zutara shipper made a fanart of Zuko joins Water Tribe hunting culture with his father-in-law and brother-in-law. He uses a parka, water tribe braids, and a water tribe spear.

This is one of my favourite Zutara SWT fanart. Zuko tries to learn Katara's culture, but it's turn out Gran-grand pranks him!

And there's no need to worry about Katara's heritage because there are also Zutara and steambabies fanarts with Water Tribe culture.

Look! Zuko is playing snowballs with steambaby. So adorable! What's the 'Katara has to wear FN clothing' thing?? I don't see it here, except for the fire symbol on Zuko's parka, that's all.

Also there are a lot, literally a lot of Zutara in Water Tribe clothing fanarts. I can't put them all, but, here some of them.

Oh, Netflix ATLA also gave us Zutara Water Tribe crumbs!! 😍😍

Zutara fanarts are very diverse, they usually wear red and blue, sometimes FN or SWT clothes, or sometimes Earth Kingdom clothes, or sometimes Painted Lady and Blue Spirit clothes.

So, 'Katara has to wear FN clothing' is ridiculous comment. Please, at least do a little research first before commenting.

Ship what you want but surely a relationship should be balance with both wanting to learn about the other's heritage.

Exactly!

But, to be able to learn and accept other cultures as part of ourselves, at least there is no culture that clash with our own principles, right?

For example, when someone have a vegan culture, meanwhile hunting animals, eating meat, and making clothes from fur are his gf's cultures, how can he blend in with that? Would he comfortable with all those??

Also, if he learns and accept most of his gf's culture - comfortable or not - then wouldn't he disrespect his own cultures and principles? So, how to make the relationship balance?

*hmm, well, I'm just saying. It's not like I take an example from canon

The good news is that Zuko's culture does not clash with Katara's. Their cultures are different, but them learn each other's culture will not disrespect their own principles (not like the example above).

He could hunting the animals, eats meat, wears parka, and wouldn't mind with the pelts. All fine!

Sokka [in the Fire Nation city] : Come on, Aang, everyone here eats meat. Even the meat! 

Bruh, even in canon Zuko willingly pretending to be water bender and using water bending move (he learns the move from Katara), so what are you complaining about?? 😭😭

[writersblockedx]

Hi there!

I really love your fanfics!

I couldn’t use the link to submit a request so I’m sending it here !

What about a fanfic where Ried has a family but he’s kept it secret for so many years so they wouldn’t get hurt. He has a small daughter and a young son. One day at the office, he gets pictures of someone taking pictures of them with a threat so he has to come clean to the team and bring his family to the office to keep them safe and they are all shocked

Please no pressure for this fic! Love your work!!!

Securing Secrets / S.R.

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer has always attempted to keep his family safe. So much so, they had become a secret. But when their lives are threatened, he has no choice but to come clean and ask for the help of his team. Warnings - Stalking, mentions of violence and death Words - 3.8K 

A/n - I hope this is okay for you - I wrote a little more than I intended to but I still hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

It was no wonder why Spencer had kept his family to himself. When he had faced killers like Cat Adams and Tobias Hankle, he knew what humans were capable of - if he dared to even compare them to anything humane. So, he made the decision when he met Y/n to forever keep her a secret from his work. And when they started growing a little family with two children, he kept them a secret too.

Sometimes it killed him inside. As much as he loved his team, risking the lives of his family just wasn't enough for him. He had lost his first love, had his mother held captive, he wasn't about to risk his family too. He had learnt from his past - at least he thought he had done.

"Morgan, hey, no, you can't-" Y/n called towards their seven year old daughter whose sticky fingers had grasped a hold of a copy of fifty shades of grade. When she thought taking the kids on a day trip out to the book store would be easy, she hadn't imagined her seven year old reading smut. "You can't read that." She scolded before placing the book back on its shelf.

The bushy-haired girl gazed up at her mother, "Why not?" She huffed.

Her arm wrapped around Jay, their more reserved, four (and a half) year old. "Because it's an adult book. When you're old enough, you can read it."

"I am old enough, Daddy said I've got an advanced reading age!" Of course, she did - she was the daughter of the guy who could read 20,000 words a minute. Not to mention, she was going through the 'I'm old enough to do what I want' phase.

"Ask me again when you're 18, how about that?" She suggested before the child wrapped at her torso and stared up at her.

"Will Dada be home?" He asked.

Jay always liked coming home from their day trips to find Spencer already there, his head deep in another book or a case file. But days like that were rare - as much as both the parents hated such. "Erm-" Before she could give her son an answer, her phone started to ring. "That should be him." She gave the boy a smile before pulling out her mobile and seeing Spencer's contact staring back at her.

The man, from the moment they made it official, had always made sure to call her at the end of his working day. Whether he was in a hotel somewhere in the country, on the jet or if he was simply in his car, travelling home. "Hey, Spence, you should hear what Morgan wants to read-"

She could barely finish her breath, "Where are you?" He asked, his tone ever so stern that it was already making her nervous.

"The bookstore down town." She answered, already glancing around like she suddenly felt as if she was being watched. "Why?"

The girl could hear his uneven breaths on the other side of the phone, "I- Shit-" That's when Y/n knew something was wrong - her husband never swore...ever. "Can you come to the office? With the kids, we need you here."

"The office? Spencer, what are you talking about? I thought they didn't know."

"Yeah, well something's changed." Her heart started beating so fast that she wondered if Jay would be able to feel it. "Please, I need to know you're all safe."

She nodded and gazed over at her two children whom were waiting to hear about what Daddy had told her. "We'll be right over," She assured.

"And Y/n," He spoke, "In your car, in the glove compartment, there's a pistol, please, take it." What the hell had happened? Spencer could barely use a gun himself, never mind her. "I put it in there just in case and, just keep it on you until you get here."

"Okay, yeah." She didn't like the idea but, if someone was threatening them, if someone was putting her and her children at risk, she would do whatever was needed.

"I'll see you soon." Spencer huffed, "I love you."

"I love you too."

And with that, she ended the call. Only a single exhale dared to leave her lips before she stood. "Is Dada home?" Jay nagged.

She scooped the boy up into her arms, "No, but we're gonna visit him at work, okay?" Jay didn't seem happy about the idea but she'd rather the boy be safe than happy. "Come on," With her free hand, she grasped Morgan's finger tips tightly. "We need to go."

She rushed her and the kids into her parked car outside, making sure to look over her shoulder. Once she was seated in the driver's seat with the engine running, her gaze glanced to the glove compartment. Y/n needed to. Her hand leaned over, pushing it open and finding the gun stuffed behind a thick car manual. She grasped it for a moment before placing it on the passangers seat for easy access.

From there, she didn't take her foot off the gas. She was usually an ulta-safe driver. But, tonight, everything was different.

When they arrived to the BAU, Y/n pressed the button for the sixth floor and waited for the doors to glide open. With two children at either side of her, she wandered into the office. Her eyes instantly searched for Spencer. Instead, a blonde, colourful girl came running over to them. Well, walking as fast as she could in her thick heels. Garcia, Y/n assumed.

"Oh, you must be the lovely Mrs Reid," She sighed in relief when she came face to face with Y/n.

She glanced her up and down; there was no way this was JJ or Emily. "Penelope, right?"

The girl almost seemed surprised, "You- you know me?"

Y/n's face softened ever so slightly, "Of course."

"Y/n!" Her head turned from Garcia to see Spencer jogging over to her. Once he was close enough, he instantly engulfed the girl into a tight hug. "You okay?" He asked before pulling away and hugging his two children.

She nodded, "Yeah, we're okay, don't worry." When Spencer stood from hugging his kids, he gazed back over at his wife. She had grasped her hand from the back hem of her jeans, pulling out the pistol he had made sure she take. "Here, I've no idea what I'm doing with it anyway." Spencer took the weapon from her before her expression turned stern, "Now, what the hell is going on?"

Spencer's eyes instantly glanced down at their children; they didn't need to hear this. "Morgan, Jay," He spoke ever so softly to them as he leaned down, "Why don't you go with Garcia, she'll show you all her funky toys?" He glanced back at Penelope who was gleaming with a smile as she offer a hand for each child.

"Oh, yeah! I've got unicorns, fairies, fluffy pens, everything." She gleamed, trying to hide her fear for the true reason Spencer's family had been bought into the BAU. Once the kids took the woman's hand she gave one last look at the couple, "Let me know if you need anything."

The boy nodded before Garcia began leading the children towards her cave, "Someone- someone found you." He started to explain as he interlocked his hand with her, guiding the two over towards the conference room where the rest of the team were waiting. "I don't know how and I don't know who but- but around 30 minutes ago I had email to my work address. There's photos, almost a months worth."

Her brows narrowed at him, "Of what?"

"Of you."

Oh god. Despite all the effort the two had put in to keep their family personal, someone had still connected her and the kids to Spencer. And for whatever reason, they had become a target.

Spencer opened the door to the conference room, where the team were waiting. Most of them sat at the round table where they had several files and papers scattered in front of them. But at the entrance of Reid and his secret wife, they each turned. She offered them a weak smile before the man, whom she assumed was Hotch, spoke up, "Sadly we don't have much time for small talk, but we all want to help." He stood over towards Y/n and offered her his hand, "Aaron Hotchner."

She shook his hand, "Hotch, I should have known." And then she glanced around the table at the rest of the agents. Without hesitation, she named them all, "JJ, Emily, Rossi and Morgan." She smiled at each of them. "Spencer talks about you all a lot."

The boy next to her grinned every so slightly. "I wish we could have met differently." Morgan offered as he stood up, "Take a seat, we'll run you through what we know."

Y/n followed Spencer as the two sat at the round table and the tv screen in front of them started filling with papazzi-style photographs of the woman. Her grocery shopping, her at a bar with some friends, and even one from this morning: hand in hand with Jay as she led the two children into the bookstore they adored.

"You said this has been going on for a month?" How could that have been the case and she had no idea?

Hotch nodded, "We believe so yes."

"Who would want to do this?" She questioned; she wasn't exactly an interesting person. She had a normal life - as the pictures had proven.

Spencer took her hand, "We erm, we're not sure yet. We have one theory."

The tv screen clicked onto another slide. A woman's face filled the screen. A woman whom Y/n had heard far too much about: Cat Adams. "We know Adams has an obsession with Reid, and well, we know she likes to target his personal life," JJ informed as Y/n recalled the days in which Diana had been held captive. "If she somehow found out about you, it would have set her off."

"But she's in prison." Y/n pointed out.

Emily shrugged, "She was in prison when she found Reid's mother. She's- She's a master manipulator and ever since Reid first encountered her, he was the first man to challenge her." All of which Y/n already knew.

"If you really think it's her then-" Her eyes gazed over at Spencer, filled with worry, "You're going to have to talk to her aren't you?" It wasn't a question; she knew it.

Spencer sucked in a breath before he dared to nod.

It didn't take them long. Before Y/n realised it, she was watching out the window of the conference room as two prison guards held Cat by either one of her arms. She was smiling- no, she was smirking. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her eyes gazed around the office until she was forced into an interrogation room.

All they needed to know was who her contact was. Once they had a name, they could find them and put whoever that was in prison too.

Y/n stood next to Spencer as they stared at the woman through the double-sided mirror. "If she's done all this to get to you, why are we letting her talk to you?" The girl questioned.

"She always slips up in front of Reid." Emily answered - despite how much they all hated the idea.

Rossi was the first to pose another opinion, "What if we give her something she isn't expecting?" He suggested, "What if we don't give her Reid?" Surely, if the team sent in someone Cat Adams didn't expect, then maybe she would slip up just as easily - if not more so.

The older man shared a glance with Emily. A glance of which allowed them to silently suggest something; the two had an idea that wasn't yet shared with the rest of the group. It wasn't until Emily's eyes landed on Y/n that they started to understand what the two were thinking, "What if- What if we sent Y/n in?"

The girl scoffed; that must have been a joke. "You're kidding, right?" She laughed. "I mean, I'm not- I'm an agent. I'm a normal person. I can't talk to a criminal!"

"That's exactly what we need," Spencer spoke aloud without even realising, "She's expecting me, she's expecting FBI, send in someone different and it might just make her slip." Spencer turned to face Y/n, one hand gently cupping her cheek as he spoke, "Especially if we send in the very girl she's jealous of."

Y/n's head shook; she couldn't. She was with Spencer, but she wasn't a part of his world, "I can't."

"You can," His voice soothed, "You can do anything."

"We'll be right here," Emily assured.

Y/n glanced back at the window, at the criminal who had targetted her. If this was their best shot, then she might have to take it. Her family was at risk for goodness sake. Once they figured out who  her partner on the otherside, all this would be over. The girl sighed, "Fine," She finally agreed. "But if anything happens, if she does anything, please-"

Spencer was already nodding, "We'll get you out of there, don't worry." He promised.

His hands fell from her skin before she glanced between the other two agents, "How do I do  this then?" She asked.

"Go in there, vague questions, act better than she is, because you are," Emily mentored, "We need to figure out how she's orchestrated this."

With those instructions, the girl nodded and Rossi handed her the file. The one of which was filled with the stalker photos of herself and the kids, "See what happens if you show her these too, it might tell us a lot." He explained.

And with that, with that grace of a nod, a peck to Spencer's lips, the girl headed into the interrogation room.

Cat Adams was nonchalant. She had learnt a lot. She had learnt the best way to not let BAU agents know what she was thinking. But sending Y/n in certainly hadn't been what she expected.

The girl swallowed as she took the seat across from Cat with a very weak smile. She gazed up at the woman who had suddenly grown a sickly smile which made Y/n become nervous. She wanted to leave already, "Hi," Cat shrugged her shoulders and gazed softly at Y/n.

But the other girl was staring back with narrowed eyes, "Do you know who I am?" She questioned.

Cat leaned back and shrugged, letting out nothing but a hum. So Y/n leaned forward and placed one of the photos in front of the girl. It was just of her - no Jay or Morgan present. Just her, exiting her car as she headed to the store, "So you don't recognise this?".

She barely glanced at it, "Should I?"

"You know Doctor Reid though, don't you?"

Instantly, her demeanour shifted. But she desperately tried to hide it, "Bumped into him...sure." She shrugged it off.

Y/n thought for a moment before raising her left hand, wiggling her ring finger to show off her wedding ring to the girl, "Yeah well, I know him quite well." She said, watching as Cat's smile completely dissipated, "And he, well, he sort of mentioned you. I mean I sort of remember your name...remind me again? Carol? Cath-?"

"Cat." She cut in.

The girl faked a shock of realisation; this was exactly what Emily had asked: make herself look better than Cat.  "And you don't know me?" She glanced back to her wedding ring, "Wife." She spoke.

The girl huffed and smiled to herself like something was funny, "Yeah, good luck with that."

Y/n glared back at her, tilting her head. The words from Emily echoed through her mind. "And what do you mean by that?"

Cat doesn't want to answer that. More specifically, she doesn't want to answer Y/n. "He- he's complicated, I'm sure you're aware right? Girlfriend died, no dad around, mum got kidnapped, and well, god knows everything that's happened to his team." She almost finds it funny.

Y/n leaned her elbows against the metal table, "And you were the very person who took his mother. I know you, Cat. I know all you want is to win against my husband but tough luck, it's not going to happen." The girl tried to keep up her straight face but when facing Cat Adams, it seemed to be proving difficult.

She shrugged, "Maybe not before, but now I have you." Her eyes narrowed and suddenly Y/n grew nervous; she was behind this. All of it. "And of course, you two little munchkins." Her shoulders squeezed and she smiled sickly.

"So you do know them."

"I know everything."

A shiver flew down her spine. She was behind all of this. And Y/n couldn't help but ask: "And what do you want?" Y/n had some idea. This had nothing to do with her or the kids; it was all about getting back at Spencer.

She giggled, "Well there would be no fun in telling you, would there?"

"You can't do this myself yourself," Y/n stated. Once they had the name of whoever it was on the outside, they could get over this: they could move on.

The girl on the other side of the metal table simply shrugged, "Who says I am?" And like that, it was confirmed. Not only the fact that she was behind this, but that she had partner and the outsider. And that was all they needed  - for now, anyway.

With narrowed eyes, Y/n glared at the girl and started to stand from the chair. She didn't need anything else. She took a breath before turning her back, "You might want to look over your shoulder." Cat taunted.

Something of which, the girl had ignored as she continued out of the interrogation room. An exhale fell from her lips as she found herself back in the company of people she trusted. Of people she knew...with Spencer.

His hand instantly reached at her waist, pulling her close. The feeling of her skin at his releasing a relief she couldn't stop. He was safe. He was loving. He was her husband, "Are you okay?" He questioned before anyone else had the chance to speak.

The girl nodded but gave no words. What was she meant to say after a face to face with Cat Adams? "She's definitely behind this," Emily confirmed.

"She's working with someone too," Y/n added as she eased into the familiar feeling of Spencer.

"So now we know that," Y/n started as she gazed between the three agents, "What do we do now?"

"Now," Answered Rossi, "We get Garcia."

And so the group of them wandered over from the interrogation room and headed to what they called Garcia's 'cave'. And safe tp say was. No windows, just a lot of screens and several different sparkly things. Plush teddies, framed stock photos of puppies and a slingy which Jay was playing with.

"Hi," Y/n gleamed as she greeted her kids once more, "You two been good for Garcia?"

The woman stood from her chair, "They're angels," She smiled.

"We need your help now," Spencer said as they quickly entered back into the situation at hand. They didn't have time for small talk.

"Of course, anything."

And so she sat back at her chair as Spencer came to her side, beginning to list the profile they had started, "Look for names that pop up in the guest book of the hotel Montana, it's the building next to our house." Spencer informed and Garcia became manically typing. "They'll have been a guest for at least a month, cross check that with anyone from Cat's old life, work, college, high school, anything-"

"Nothing."

"What if- I mean surely whoever this person is would be using an alias," Y/n suggested.

A theory of which Spencer agreed with, "Bring up a photo of the guests who have stayed for a month."

Garcia followed: there were three. As they scrolled through high school pictures and then college- "There!"

A photo matched. A woman, same age as Cat, sickly sweet smile, fire red hair and geeky glasses. And then the name: Amy Duke. They had a name. They had everything Garcia could find. "That's got to be her," Emily confirmed.

"Garcia, send us everything." And like that, everything was go-go-go.

Y/n barely had a chance to speak before her hand was reaching out to stop Spencer from running off, "Hey," She called.

His hands cupped at her cheeks, "It'll be alright, I promise." He gave a smile which could ease her nervous a million times over. "Go home, I'll be there soon."

And like that, he was gone.

Y/n said her goodbyes to Garcia before taking her kids hand in hand and heading for the exit. She tried to not think about what Spencer was doing, about the woman he was facing. It was all too overwhelming. Instead, she focused on feeding her kids and getting them dressed for bed. It was horrible when they asked about where Daddy was - if he was coming home. All she could tell them was that it was going to be fine...even if she wasn't so sure of such herself.

She perched at the end of Morgan's bed, her door open, giving the woman a view of a sleeping Jay in the room across the hall. She didn't dare to leave her children when there was danger still looming over them. The girl watched as her daughter's chest rose and fell with her breaths. And after what felt like hours, the front door rustled open.

Y/n became alert, she flew up to her feet and wandered carefully out of Morgan's room. She lingered at the top of the stairs; what if it wasn't her husband? "Spence?" She called, worrisome.

He was already rushing up the stairs at the sound of her voice, "Hey, it's me don't worry." He met her at the top of the landing, engulfing his body around her. "It's over, I swear, she's been arrested, Cat is back in prison." Relief flooded her. "It's all over."

Her head gazed up at him, a slight grin brushing over her lips, "What a way to meet your second family, hey?" She giggled. And while the day had been horrid, there was some good out of it - she wasn't a secret anymore.

[shipmansflannels]

"who asked first" with the yellowjackets

yay! I'm back! the decision to open a new blog just for yellowjackets wasn't easy at all, but since it's been a year since this obsession has barely gone away and I already had an extremely confusing blog with layouts and the like, I wanted to start over with this one. hope you like it. I'll make a very simple and small prompt first, and then I'll make the masterlist and the oneshots/fanfics. stay tuned! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

--------

who asked first with the yellowjackets girls...

jackie taylor.

well, if we're going to be honest here, you definitely asked first.

of course, jackie had already been rehearsing for weeks how he would ask you out. but she's obviously a girlfaillure, so you definitely asked first.

it was probably when she least expected it. it could be at soccer practice, or when you were coming home from school together and you had the audacity to ask her to go out with her to some hypothetical and boring place in the middle of the street… whatever.

all I know is that this little loser was eager for you to ask, and she definitely rolled out the classic, "took you too long…"

shauna shipman.

again, you asked first.

shauna doesn't have the social tact to ask you out (she's just like me), and drunk is even worse, so you actually had to make the first move most of the time.

just like jackie, it could have been when she was at soccer practice, or when she was alone enough to vent to her journal and you were able to get close to her without scaring her. anyway, the thing is, shauna was already secretly expecting this to happen (a lot of her journal pages were about you btw), so it wasn't a surprise either when you asked her out.

despite everything, you didn't have any difficulties on your first date. she's pleasant company, I suppose.

natalie scatorccio.

one of the rare exceptions where she asked first.

okay, don't be fooled, either. natalie is very cocky from time to time, but asking to go out with you is definitely one of the times she tends to weaken. so, kevyn probably dared her to do it and she just took advantage of her cooler personality to use it on you.

but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. in fact, it's kind of a good thing (and probably depressing for her) because she only felt like herself when she asked you. I see in nat a huge tendency to ignore some of her feelings, especially when it comes to people she likes.

the invitation was probably also full of teasing on her part, from body language to the words used for it. and somehow she made it look cool and convinced you to accept it.

things that only natalie scatorccio could do.

lottie matthews.

for some reason, I'm 100% sure you asked first.

I know many of us think of lottie as a completely carefree, liberal and often bitchy enough person to ask someone out on a date. but, if we count the pre-crash, I think she was a very insecure person and uncertain of her feelings, more due to the influence of the pills.

so, as incredible as it sounds, you asked first. it was in an extremely relaxed conversation between you that the invitation ended up unintentionally, and she was visibly panicked when she agreed.

lottie is probably the type of person who has a rehearsed speech in front of the mirror while getting ready, and with her enviable style and expensive clothes (some stolen), she would do anything to make your date the perfect date.

taissa turner.

she asked first.

taissa is confident enough to ask you out, I have no doubt about that. but she definitely spent weeks planning the perfect invitation, just in case everything went wrong and she needed to run (just like what happened when she thought about breaking allie's leg before nationals).

anyway, taissa would certainly ask first and it would be quite a surprise for you. taking into account that, from the moment you accepted, you would discover that van also knew about her friend's ideas, and later that half of the team also knew. it would be a shock because you wouldn't understand tai's intentions at first.

but none of them are necessarily bad. one, is that tai was really excited if you accepted, and her anxiety couldn't stop her from wanting to tell the world. two, because she was overly excited that you had agreed to go out with her, and wanted the world to know it as well.

van palmer.

as much as I would really like to prove otherwise, you asked first.

van has the same problem as lottie, but in her case, it's excessively because of the sarcasm jokes and high charisma. she thinks she's being too much for you and that asking for something like that on this level would end up scaring you away.

in the end, it's totally the opposite, but it's going to take van a long time to figure that out, specifically. the invitation would happen when she least expected it, probably when you were feeling confident enough to pass notes to her during classes.

it's a cute invitation, and one that van would hold in question for a long, long time.

misty quigley.

there would be no other answer. she asked first.

misty has no shame in admitting that she has a crush on you. and of course, to ask you out on a date, this shame decreases even more. she doesn't even care if she will be made fun of by her colleagues, what really matters is that she planned everything for you to accept.

and when I say everything, it really means everything.

from the moment she will slide up to your table and quietly ask if you accept, to the tone of voice she will use to persuade your brain to accept, to the place she will take you hand in hand and then let it slide. … she literally thought of every detail.

and, well, knowing misty quigley's ability to create plans, the whole thing worked out… until you figured it all out and admitted that you liked it even more, much to her surprise.

laura lee.

you asked first, of course. there would be no other answer either.

of course, not ruling out the possibility of laura lee asking first, given her hidden impulsive personality, but, in this case, taking the obviousness into account, you asked, and had to be careful with every line said in the invitation.

of course, it needed to be at a time when you were alone, because you were afraid that pressure from other people would make you feel suffocated. this, of course, did not happen. she thought it was a classic weekend outing, like you guys usually did, until she realized your real intentions.

and, truly, at no point did it make her feel restrained or scared. she was ready to be vulnerable and be herself around you, no matter what.

(but, if you casually ask lottie at some point, she will definitely claim that she saw laura lee rehearsing some speeches and compliments for you in the locker room mirror…)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

i wish you’d write a threesome with aemond, reader, and someone else of your choosing! 🖤

Here you are, my love, a tidbit for you...

"If he tries to take you, you must not resist."

The statement catches her off guard as she lies next to her husband in his bed, keeping to his unburned side, knowing it will cause him the least discomfort.

When Aegon had first taken to his sickbed, a mess of melted flesh and broken bones, she had wept, not knowing if he would ever be whole again. For six long months she had kept vigil by his bedside, watching anxiously as Maester Orwyle had worked fastidiously to make him well. He slept nine hours out of every ten, and when he was lucid he simply moaned in pain and begged for his next draught of poppy milk.

It is only in recent weeks that he is well enough to rise from his bed with assistance, though he cannot walk far. He can now hold a conversation without gasping for breath, addled by pain. Even his voracity has returned, to a degree. He is under strict instructions to not attempt to lay with his wife, however, it has not prevented him from commanding her to lay beside him on the bed as he brings her to peak on his fingers.

"Who?" She asks softly, brow furrowing in concern, as she softly strokes his forehead. A subtle way to check that his words are not feverish ramblings.

"Aemond," he replies simply. "He covets my crown, at the cost of my life. I expect he will want all that goes with it, my Queen included."

She swallows thickly. She had long suspected foul play had been behind Aemond's sudden rise to the position of Prince Regent, however, it is the first she has heard it spoken aloud. However, in the midst of war she is certain that laying claim to her will be the last thing on his mind.

"I'm sure your brother has more pressing matters to attend to, my love," she reassures him.

"I mean it," he says, voice strained and fraught with emotion. "Give him what he wants. I will gladly share you if it spares your life."

It not two weeks later that she sits straddling Aegon's face, a knee either side of his head on the pillow as he laps greedily at her sticky core, the throbbing sensation making it almost impossible to keep her hips still as she grips the headboard with such force it turns her knuckles white.

She is tentative in how she positions herself, careful in her movements, not wishing to hurt him. If it were up to her, they would not be doing this at all in the first place, however, he had been insistent in his demands.

"If I do not get a taste of your cunt soon, I fear I shall go mad. Have mercy on a cripple."

She had giggled at his brashness and finally relented, and is glad she had. The art of pleasure is something that even more than half a year spent infirm could not make Aegon forget.

The doors to the bed chamber burst open, robbing her of the sweet oblivion she had teetered upon the edge of and making her startle. She gasps as Aemond announces his presence, sweeping into the room as he throws the doors closed behind him.

She desperately tries to scramble away from Aegon, to make herself look presentable, but he holds firm to her thighs, keeping her precisely where she is.

Her skin burns hot with humiliation as Aemond slowly advances towards the bedside, clearly unbothered by the spectacle he has walked in on. He looms over the bed side, looking down at her as she gazes back up, eyes wide and fearful.

"It appears to me," he tells her softly, "that my brother has not made available to me all of the resources necessary for me to rule the Kingdom in his stead."

Her eyes drop to where his fingers now work open the lacings of his trousers, her heart thudding at the sight, mind racing with the possibilities of what he means to do.

"I require the services of the Queen," he continues, "and I expect her to be forthcoming."

Her throat runs dry as he frees himself, the tip of his erection already glistening with arousal.

Aemond reaches out, his fingers sinking into her hair as he cups the back of her head, pulling her forward, the head of him pressing against her lips.

"Is that understood?"

She hesitates, and feels Aegon give her thighs an encouraging squeeze.

"If he tries to take you, you must not resist." The words echo in her mind, and she parts her lips, allowing him to push forward into her mouth.

The taste of him upon her tongue is sharp and unfamiliar, though not unpleasant. And as she feels her husband's tongue begin to lap at her folds once more, while his brother thrusts slowly into her throat, she decides that in war they must all make sacrifices, and that if her body is to be forfeit then she will gladly yield.

[anotherhomelanderblog]

The Ravishing (Part 1)

Summary: You've discovered a certain jar, so confront Homelander about it. He doesn't react very well. Content: Homelander x fem!Reader | established relationship | The Pube Jar(TM) | angst | nonspecific S4 timeline Word count: 1.4k Author's note: Hiiiiiii! I have a terrible blond man in my head who won't leave me alone! Someone please tell me why I've tackled this of all things for my first fic. 😭 This whole thing is actually about 8.5k, but I'm breaking it into chunks. There will be smut eventually, though not in this part. Generally speaking, I gravitate more towards angst. RIP.

One Two Three Four Five | ao3

Homelander is beyond stressed.

You know this – everyone within his general vicinity knows this – but what hurts is feeling like there’s nothing you can do about it.

The two of you have been together now for some time and are long past those awkward early relationship stages: when he returns to you, dripping crimson with someone else’s viscera, you do not ask him who or why. You listen if he tells you, while you rinse the gore from his locks – bringing him from hellfire back to sunshine. ­­­­­­

Your lover is a complicated man, and you accepted this a long time ago. You don’t want the simplified, Vought-approved Homelander. You want the entirety of him; but, nevertheless, stress has made him distant.

You will not blame Ryan moving into the penthouse for the dip in your love life. Ryan isn’t always here, and you’re not sure Homelander fully comprehends how mortifying hearing a parent fuck is to their child anyway. You won’t blame his criminal trial either, as the both of you have always known he is in no danger of losing.

You won’t even blame Firecracker, who you know throws herself at him at every opportunity she gets – you’re more concerned he might end up killing her at an inappropriate moment.

And yet, years of being made love to in every conceivable fashion – from every conceivable and inconceivable place – has somehow fizzled out to brief, passionless fucking in the dark in a matter of months. You’ve heard of the honeymoon phase ending, but surely you were already long past that. You’re aware men of a certain age can experience a decrease in libido, but Homelander is a very special case. Any sudden changes tend to worry you.

He still tells you he loves you, and you believe him. He’s still needy in the evenings, overwrought with whatever bullshit the day contained, his head finding solace in your lap. Your relationship is far more than just sex. But he is a busier man these days, with a busier man’s preoccupations. Countries, as you’ve gathered, don’t just tear themselves apart. Perhaps something had to give.

On the single occasion you tried bringing the subject up with him, asked if anything identifiable had changed, he smiled at you the way he does the cameras. His eyes turned manic, his cheeks drawn tight. There was no problem, of course there wasn’t. Maybe you’ve got a problem, if you think there’s a problem.

This means there very much is a problem.

You would’ve probed further, but he’s a slippery one; you came on his tongue at least three times before he was satisfied that you’d forgotten what was wrong. In truth, you just thought it’d be cruel to bring it up again after all his effort. You never forgot.

Since then, you’ve been forced to make do with the situation. It’s not as if he’s gone; it could be worse. You’re certain you’ve found your soulmate and live a life of morally dubious luxury. Your conscience is burnt clear by the proximity you have to him: this glorious light.

Things could’ve simmered like this indefinitely, had you not returned to the penthouse today to find something… unique. You’re sure there are the answers you’ve been pondering coiled up within your discovery, quite literally, but Christ if you don’t have a few questions first.

It seems your lover really is beyond stressed if he’s started collecting his pubic hairs.

Homelander returns to the penthouse in the late afternoon. His working hours have been less predictable since he took control of Vought. Whenever he comes home particularly early and agitated, you wonder if he’s cancelled his schedule off the hoof and stormed out. You wonder if the rest of the tower is alight with panic. You wonder why not a single one of them can cope without stretching him to breaking point.

You wonder how you’d feel if he killed them all.

Today, he seems fine, or as fine as he ever is. He’s already ranting at you about some cocksucker or other he swears he’ll fucking laser in half one of these days when he finds you waiting for him on the sofa. This is it: the reaction you must absorb.

There’s a moment pre-recognition where he’s just relieved to see you. It almost makes you regret the next moment. Almost.

When Homelander spots the jar on the coffee table in front of you, he halts in place like a machine deactivated, his cape billowing forwards on either side of him before fluttering still. He blinks several times in rapid succession, and then his face goes through a myriad of different emotions.

Shock. Dread. Disgust. Betrayal.

You watch them playing out in seizure-like fashion, sending every pre-approved facial expression he’s ever mastered into spasm. His mouth opens and shuts wordlessly. For your part, you try to keep your face neutral as he meets your gaze.

And then, in an instant, he’s absolutely fine again.

He clasps his gloved hands together tightly enough that the leather creaks and advances towards the sofa. His cape flares outwards behind him, adding to the impression he’s some sort of encroaching storm. He only stops when he’s so close you’re forced to tilt you head back to view him properly. He’s smiling – a pointed, sharp smile. It pinches the lines around his mouth and eyes into knife-drawn slits.

“Hey, honey,” he says, with a level of false cheerfulness even the public could pick up on. He waggles his eyebrows once, tilting his head towards the jar without looking directly at it. “Wanna tell me where you found that?”

His cheery tone drops an octave in warning. His hands unclasp to rest squarely on his hips. Homelander can be extraordinarily intimidating when he wants to be – you’d be a fool not to recognise that, however much you love him – but he hasn’t accounted for the fact you’re fluent in his tics. You see that strange emotion shimmering in his eyes.

He’s afraid.

You stay seated, letting him hold your gaze hostage. “It was on top of your drawers when I came in.”

His eyes narrow just fractionally at your explanation, but you know he can tell it’s the truth. You don’t want to point out the obvious: that someone’s been snooping about, and maybe he can’t always rely on his reputation to do the job of a good lock. He’d take this as an attack, you’re sure, a suggestion he’s started missing things he shouldn’t – he has, but the conversation really wouldn’t go the way you want it to if you got into that now.

The key with Homelander is delicacy. For a man with near impenetrable skin, his is awfully thin.

Slowly, you stand, bringing your hands to rest on his forearms, rubbing up and down the fake padding of his suit. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his expression drifting off, distant. That’s never good either.

“Sweetheart–”

He comes back to himself in the space of a heartbeat, like there’s a switch inside him. On. Off. On Off. What happens next occurs so fast you almost don’t process it in time.

He scowls and twists away from you, a red glow the only forewarning before his lasers sizzle in the direction of the coffee table and a perfectly aimed shot of heat explodes the jar apart, sending the lid flying. It’s almost cartoonish.

Though the outburst isn’t aimed at you, you jump all the same. He feels tenser under your palms as you both watch the molten glass shards bubble and steam on the table, cooling from their newly hot orange hue, burning their mark into the expensive surface.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you think about what will be big enough to cover these marks from Ryan. Do you have anything inconspicuous made from zinc?

Homelander growls under his breath – and then he’s gone from your grasp, thundering off towards the balcony, cape all aflutter. He wrenches the doors open with a thud you’re surprised doesn’t shatter their glass too. Then he’s off: up into the air, a furious blue pinprick growing smaller and smaller amidst the afternoon clouds.

The high wind at this altitude freezes out the penthouse, ruffling your clothes and reminding you of all the ways you cannot follow him. The scent of singed hair hits you in a sickening wave. You let out a breath and blink, pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Fuck.”

Sometimes, you can be as delicate as possible with Homelander, and it still isn’t enough to stop him cracking.

[heavyhitterheaux]

U-Turn

Gif by @harlowgifs 💕

Synopsis: It's been six months since Scalvo broke up with you, and you’re doing your best to function without him. But when your safety is compromised, he is forced to step back into your life, and hopefully, this time, it will be for good

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Scalvo x ex-girlfriend!reader

Read Part 1 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was close to four in the morning and you hadn't been to sleep yet. The thoughts in your mind were racing a mile and minute and it didn't seem as if they were stopping any time soon. You scrolled through the gallery on your phone that contained pictures of you and Scalvo. You knew at this point that you should have deleted them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You fucking missed him.

It had been a few months since he had broken up with you and you were still obviously hurting. You tried to call him the next day after you confronted him about what he had done all to find out that the number wasn't in service anymore. You found yourself not going into the bakery anymore, but just casually visiting different shops along the same street hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Besides, it was clear that Mr. Besegai wasn't a fan of you.

The crying didn't occur as much anymore and you found yourself trying to do anything that could serve as a distraction from the reality of it all. But the bottom line was that you missed him and wanted him back despite what he may have done.

This was supposed to be your week of vacation from your job, but all you had been doing was laying in bed most of the time. 

After everything went down and you had found out about what Scalvo and Cobby did, you weren't sure how to feel. Yes, you were upset at him obviously. But, you could understand why he did it. You weren't making excuses for him in any way, shape, or form but you couldn't imagine a life without your parents.

Your father had the safe replaced and moved it to a safer location, a bank in the middle of the city. Scalvo must have said something to Cobby because a few days after you confronted him, the bracelet mysteriously ended up back at your parents house with your mother finding it in the mailbox. Your father had never said this outloud, but deep down you had a feeling that he knew it was Scalvo. But because he wanted to spare your feelings, he probably didn't want to say anything to you about it. He knew that you had taken the break up hard and still was.

Not wanting to lay there any longer, you decided to get up and get ready to go to the gym in the hopes that it wouldn't be as crowded. After you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, you went into your closet to find a sports bra and a pair of workout shorts to match. You decided on a coral pink matching set from fabletics before you grabbed your black hoodie and slipped on your shoes.

As you made your way downstairs to the parking garage with your phone, car keys, and air pods, you felt uneasy. You couldn't exactly pinpoint why you felt that way, but you turned around to see that there was no one behind you so you shrugged it off.

Unlocking your car, you went to grab the driver's door handle when someone had come up behind you and put a hand over your mouth. Your first reaction was to begin screaming, but that instantly came to a stop when you heard a voice. 

“Shh! Don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you.” You turned around to come face to face with Cobby and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“What could you possibly want?” You asked him as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, I deserve that. I get it. But sorry about that entire thing with your dad. Scalvo was like you're never going to forgive him, but I was like "but at least you didn't kill her dad so that has to count for something, right? I think I took your break up the hardest out of anyone.”

“Cobby, you talk way too much because you should have gotten to the point already. Why are you here?” You asked him as you slipped your air pod case in your front pocket.

“Oh, right! Totally forgot. You know Scalvo tells me the same thing that I talk too much, but…”

“COBBY!”

“Sorry. Scalvo sent me.”

“Why? We aren't together anymore and we haven't talked in literal months.”

“I know and I feel terrible about that. He was actually nicer when he was dating you believe it or not. He only threatened to shoot me a few times and it would usually be a lot more.”

“Cobby, PLEASE GET TO THE POINT.” You tried not to yell at him, but it came out anyway.

“Hey, no yelling. I'm sensitive. Oh, I remember now. Someone is after you so Scalvo sent me to come and get you.”

“After me for what? And why should I believe you?” You questioned him, because at this point you didn't know what to believe.

“Scalvo has pissed a lot of people off lately and they know about you. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt you in order to get to him. And why should you believe me? You are the only person in this universe that Scalvo actually gives a damn about. So if you’ll just come with me, we'll be on our way.” He told you as he was trying to lead you to his motorcycle.

“I am not getting on that death trap and why didn't he come and get me himself if he cares about me so much?”

“Too dangerous.”

“The motorcycle or him coming to get me? And is that a breathalyzer!?”

“Oh yeah to all of that but um, do you mind blowing in it so we can leave?”

“COBBY! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“What!? We won't be able to move!”

“How did you even get here in the first place!?”

“I woke up my kid and made him do it.”

“I need to go back to my apartment for a minute.”

“No the fuck you don't. Excuse my French, but they have been watching you for weeks. Blow into this so we can leave.”

“If you're drunk, you are not driving me anywhere.”

“Y/N! Now is not the time! I have to get you to a safe place! Do you want to argue with me or get kidnapped? I see why you two were together, it's like I'm arguing with Scalvo junior.”

“You need to wipe that thing off before I put it anywhere near my mouth.”

“Ha! That's what she said.”

All you did was look at him and roll your eyes before you walked back to your car in order to get some disinfectant wipes to clean it off. Once you did and blew into it, his motorcycle unlocked.

“Perfect! Here, hop on and put this on.” He told you as he handed you his helmet.

“Do you honestly think my hair will fit in here?” You asked and he just stared at you.

“Look, if I bring you to Scalvo with even a SCRATCH on you, he will have my fucking ass. Just put it on.”

“Fine.” You muttered as you slipped it on over your thick and fluffy curly hair.

The two of you set off into the streets of Boston in the early hours as the world around you was still sleeping.

You didn't know how to feel about seeing Scalvo again. Obviously you missed him, but did he miss you? Well, the answer had to be yes seeing that he felt as if your life was in danger and he was going to do anything in his power to protect you. That's how he was when the two of you were together so you figured that nothing had changed. 

Out of nowhere, Cobby had slowed down and pulled into a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and you looked at him confused once he got off the bike.

“Uh? Is the secret hideout a Dunkin Donuts? Why are we here?”

“We're here because I'm hungry. You want anything?

“No. Should we really be making stops? This seems a little too out in the open.”

“It's fine. I'll be two minutes.”

You nodded your head to Cobby as he disappeared inside of the store. In that time, you had taken off the helmet and it was resting in front of you as you played on your phone to keep yourself occupied while waiting for him.

Suddenly you felt the barrel of the gun at the back of your head and knew that whoever was after you to begin with had found you.

“If you scream, I will blow your fucking brains out across this entire parking lot. Get off the motorcycle and follow me. If you try to run, I'll shoot.” 

You didn't recognize the voice, but you did as you were told as you held your hands up. Your air pods were still in your pocket as you left your phone on the seat of the motorcycle hoping that Cobby would know that he could track you. If not, Scalvo would know to pick up on it. Now would be the perfect time for Cobby to make an appearance, but he wasn't even looking in your direction.

Fuck.

Once you came face to face with the man, you knew you had seen him before but wasn't quite sure where. He led you to his car and as he was putting you in the back of it, Cobby was leaving the store and immediately ran to the car hoping to get to you in time.

“Fuck! Y/N!”

But it was too late as the car then took off. Cobby memorized the license plate number in the hopes that it would help him to track you down. 

But first things first.

He had to tell Scalvo that they had you.

And knew that he wasn't about to hear the end of it.

As Cobby let himself into the warehouse where he and Scalvo were hiding out, he climbed the steps to see Scalvo playing some video game. He heard him approaching and quickly pressed pause, but he already knew that something was wrong because he only heard one set of footsteps. He turned around to see Cobby alone which left him genuinely confused.

Even though you hadn’t seen Scalvo in these six months that had passed, he had seen you. He always made sure to check on you from a distance to make sure that you were okay and that no harm would come to you. He knew that because of what he did to Don, that more than likely it would put you in danger after he had seen him outside of your job. Scalvo made sure that he didn’t notice him, but his eyes never left sight of you. That was when Scalvo knew that you had become a target and was going to make sure that nothing happened to you because of the decisions that he decided to make. 

“Sooo…..”

“Where's Y/N? You told me that you had her.” He asked as he looked behind Cobby to see that no one had followed in behind him.

“Um yeah, so about that….” Cobby started to say while scratching the back of his neck.

All Scalvo did was take a deep breath before saying anything.

“Cobby, you have three fucking seconds. Where is my girl?” 

“Okay, I picked her up, scared the shit out of her by the way, went to Dunkin Donuts because I was hungry and I left her outside while I ran in and…”

Cobby didn't even get to finish his sentence before Scalvo’s hand was around his neck and had him pinned against the wall. His head hitting it with a thud.

“You fucking left her by herself when I told you to come straight back here?”

“Are you still in therapy? Because this right here doesn't really give me therapy vibes.”

“FUCK! COBBY I GAVE YOU ONE FUCKING JOB! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE DID IT MYSELF!”

“We can fix this! I have the license plate number and her phone. She had her air pods too and I’m guessing that she still does.”

“Just give it here so I can see if I can track her. You better pray that she's alive when we find her. Otherwise, I will literally shoot you.”

“I had a feeling that you were going to say that.”

“I just want for her to be okay, she needs to be okay. I can’t have her getting hurt because of me and what my job is.”

“Oh, the feelings are coming out again. Hey, you never answered my question, are you still in therapy or not? That has to be one of the best things to happen since you were in a relationship with Y/N. She looks great by the way, dyed her hair again to fire engine red.”

“I know because I saw it last week, but Cobby, please not now. It is taking everything in me not to throw you out of the window and yes, I’m still in therapy because I have to deal with your stupid ass.”

“I knew you had to be! Otherwise, I knew I probably would have been kissing concrete right now. Hey, I got an extra donut for you along with a breakfast sandwich. I was going to get you coffee until I realized that my motorcycle doesn't have a cup holder.” 

Scalvo glanced at him as he set everything in front of him as he had his laptop open and was trying to track where you might be. He also unlocked your iphone since he knew the passcode had been his birthday. Thank goodness you hadn’t changed it and seeing that it was still the same also tugged on his heartstrings.

He was making a promise to himself at this very moment.

When he got you back, because it wasn’t a matter of how, but since he knew that it was going to happen, if you were to give him another chance at being in a relationship with you, he didn’t plan on wasting it.

But then again, you really probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him at this point because of the situation that you were in.

Only thing he could think about is if you were hurt. If he found out that you were, he wouldn’t hesitate killing the person or people who had brought you harm. 

“Not hungry. Only thing I’m focused on is getting my girl back.”

“I love this for you, should we consider this your redemption arc in a way as it relates to her? I see the two of you getting back together, you need her in the worst way. Maybe you wouldn’t be so mad all the time if you got some pussy once in a while.”

“Cobby….”

“Shutting up now, I’ll be over here. Let me know when you find something. But she misses you and misses you bad. You should have seen her face when I told her that you had sent me to get her. So, that could be more motivation for you to find her.”

–

When you had gotten placed in the back of the car by a man you learned whose name was Rob, you were quickly blindfolded so there was no way that you would be able to tell where you were going and was praying that Scalvo came to save you.

All you did was focus on your breathing and trying to stay calm.

Once you felt the car come to a complete stop, the backseat door opened and you were roughly grabbed from the car and began walking inside of what you obviously knew to be a building.

Were you even still in Boston anymore?

The car had been driving for a long time, maybe an hour or two so at this point the answer was probably no.

Once you were placed in a chair and a rope was tied around your waist as well as your wrist and ankles, the blindfold finally came off.

At this point, you knew that screaming probably wouldn’t do you any good in this situation and the best thing for you to do was to remain calm and answer their questions as you saw fit. But that would be easy since you knew absolutely nothing. You hadn’t seen him or had contact with him in over six months and it felt that he honestly disappeared from your life and never existed to begin with. 

There were three different men standing in front of you as your eyes had adjusted to the light and the short fat man in the center was the first to speak.

“Hmm, Scalvo sure did get him a pretty one.” He told you as his hand lightly grazed your cheek making you flinch away from him.

Only Scalvo was allowed to do that.

When he didn’t receive an answer from you, he spoke up again.

“Cat got your tongue, or is it too early in the morning?” He asked you as all you did was stare straight ahead at him.

You were scared shitless, but you were for damn sure not about to let them see it. The moment that you did, you knew that they would be able to use it to their advantage.

“I see you don’t want to talk, but maybe if we introduce ourselves and get to know one another a little better it might make you more comfortable? I’m Don, that’s Rob over there who picked you up and brought you to me, and over there is Booch. And there’s no reason for you to tell us your name since we already know who you are, Y/N Lawson. Daughter of James and Scarlet Lawson. Only child. Graduate of University of Maryland College Park with a degree in forensics specializing in forensic nursing from a previous degree that you had gotten at Morgan State University’s nursing program. Who lives in an luxury apartment off of 33rd street with her cat named Mojito, goes to the gym at least five days a week, works at the hospital near the baseball stadium, drives a BMW that was a gift from her parents upon graduation and last but certainly not least, the girlfriend of our beloved Scalvo. The little fucker that had been a constant thorn in my side and my reason for these constant headaches as he and his friends stole my fucking money and also killed one of my guys who works for me. Now, we can do this the easy way, because I’m all about getting and having options or the hard way, the choice is up to you, sweetheart. Now I’ll let you go free and we can pretend like this never happened, as soon as you tell me where your boyfriend is and his dumbass sidekick Cobby. I’m surprised that fucker is still alive. Now be a good girl and tell us where he is.” Don told you as he got into your face, but all you continued to do was stare at him. 

No one called you good girl except Scalvo.

“Y/N, I’m being nice right now and it would be best if you would cooperate with me. I gave you options and I’m being patient. However, you must understand that my patience is thin, especially when it comes to things like this.”

All you did once again was stare at him and he nodded silently to himself before you felt his hand give you a hard slap to your face making your head turn abruptly in the other direction. You had the sudden urge to spit and when you did, you saw blood. 

It was now stinging and tears pricked your eyes, but you made sure to not let them fall. There was no way in hell that you would ever tell them where Scalvo was and besides you didn’t even know. At this point, kidnapping you was absolutely pointless. 

However, you did know that all three of them were in for a rude awakening once Scalvo had found out what they had done and especially Don that had put his hands on you. You delighted in the fact that it was only a matter of time that Scalvo would blow his brains out for messing with his girl. 

“Y/N, I tried to be nice and ask you before I had to do that, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Where’s Scalvo?”

“We’ve been broken up for six months and I haven’t talked to him since. I don’t know where he is, but I can assure you once he does find me and finds out that you put your hands on me, you will definitely be burning in hell.” You whispered to him as he was eye level with you before promptly spitting in his face.

“Fucking bitch.” He immediately said as he pulled back wiping at his face where your bloody spit had landed and Rob and Booch looked to Don to ask permission of what to do next.

“Waterboard her. I don’t believe her for a second. She’s obviously protecting him.”

You sighed to yourself as you remembered when you had first met Scalvo when his hair was damp and it almost looked as if he had taken a shower when he came from the storage room in Mr. Besegai’s bakery.

That’s what Richie and Mr. Besegai were doing to him.

Waterboarding.

When all this was said and done, you planned on having a serious talk with Scalvo about all of this and how much he lied to you. However, he was doing his best to shield you from this life so you couldn’t totally blame him for it.

You just prayed that he was able to find you in time.

Now was not the time for you to die.

You didn’t want to die. 

Who knew that meeting that cute boy in the bakery would lead to all of this?

By this time, Scalvo had quickly grown frustrated with the fact that tracking the license plate went absolutely nowhere. They were able to trace it back to being a rental and not having a true owner. The other part that frustrated him was that your air pods must have been dead or broken because he wasn't able to trace them either. 

Cobby had called Rory who had worked on a few jobs with them to offer some type of help, but Scalvo was simply annoyed by the two old guys who couldn't seem to follow directions. Every time those three went out to do a job, some wild ass shit would happen and Scalvo was surprised that they all were alive when all was said and done.

“What if we ask Mr. Besegai for help?” Rory asked and Scalvo turned and stared at him in disbelief.

“For what? This doesn't make him any money so he definitely doesn't care. Besides, he was the one who had me rob my girlfriend's parents. Don't we remember when all that happened? He threatened to fucking kill her if I didn't do it.”

“Oh, right Cobby told me about that.” He said as he suddenly remembered.

“I'm out of fucking ideas.” Scalvo whispered to himself before his phone rang from an unknown number. He stared at it for a second and then quickly picked it up and put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Scalvo! Surprised I haven't heard from you yet. How's everything going?” Scalvo immediately recognized the voice that belonged to Rob.

“Don't fucking play with me. Where's Y/N?”

“Oh, the pretty little thing we picked up yesterday? She's great. For now.” He told him as he was keeping an eye on you. Your head was slouched down and he was for certain that you were asleep, but you in fact were listening to everything that was happening.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Calm down, pretty boy. She's alive. She actually fell asleep not too long ago after she got tired of us waterboarding her.”

It was at that moment that all Scalvo could see was red.

“If she's alive, put her on the phone.”

“As you wish.”

Rob walked over to you and forcefully grabbed you by a handful of your curly hair in order for you to look up and you instantly let out a scream. Hearing it in real time made Scalvo’s heart drop.

“You have a call sweetheart, it's your beloved boyfriend.”

As you heard these words, you wasted no time in yelling his name.

“Scalvo!”

“I'm coming for you princess. I…”

“Okay, that's enough.” Dob said as he snatched the phone back making you sigh in defeat.

“She's a tough one. But anyway, if you want her back you need to rightfully give me back what's mine.” 

“I'm not giving you a got damn thing.”

“Hmm, so if I were to put a bullet in her head right now, you wouldn't care? Is that what you’re telling me?” He asked as he cocked his gun next to the phone so that he would be able to hear it.

“If you cause her any more harm, me and you are going to have a conversation and it will include me blowing your brains out. Where the fuck is she?”

“Scalvo, let's be real. I’m not telling you anything. Give me what I want and you can get your girlfriend back. When you're ready to take me up on my offer, you let me know. But you don't have a lot of time. I am giving you forty-eight hours to give me back my money otherwise your girlfriend will get delivered to you in pieces. Have a good day.”

After Rob had hung up the phone, it was silent as Rory and Cobby were looking at one another before they both looked over at Scalvo.

“Okay, what now?” Cobby quietly asked and Scalvo quickly got an idea. 

“Cobby, did she have her pink coach wallet with her when you went to get her?”

“Yeah, she was holding it.”

“Shit, why didn't I think of this before?” He said as he quickly typed the password into his phone to unlock it.

“Think of what?” Rory asked and Scalvo quickly shushed him. 

“Before we broke up, I put an air tag in her wallet because that's her favorite one and she always has it. It let me know where she was and if she was okay.”

“Stalker much?” Cobby said as he looked at Scalvo who immediately rolled his eyes.

“That's when Mr. Besegai threatened her and I wasn't taking any chances. It's hidden in a part she doesn't use so there was no way she could have known it was there. I couldn't exactly tell her "oh, by the way babe people are threatening you so I'm just going to put this air tag in your wallet to keep you safe. I don't know why I'm explaining myself to either of you, but yeah.”

“Hmm, good point.”

Sure enough, within a matter of seconds, Scalvo was able to see your location and noticed that you were in Portland, Maine.Their dumbasses must have not had removed your wallet from where they currently were.

“Cobby, put in this address.” He told him, and Cobby quickly started to pull up Google on his phone.

“She's at an old warehouse. If we leave now, we probably won't hit a lot of traffic.” He said out loud which made Scalvo and Rory look at him in disbelief.

“Without a plan?” Rory said and surprisingly, Scalvo quickly agreed with him.

“Exactly. Like come on now. When do we ever just go in blindly?” Scalvo asked him and Cobby quickly turned up his nose.

“Oh, so you don't remember….”

“That was different!”

“Sure, sure. Almost got ourselves killed nonetheless.”

“I just need until tonight to plan all of this out. And we can go and get her when they least expect it.” He told both of them.

“Do you need help planning?” Rory asked and Scalvo rolled his eyes.

“Definitely not from you two. Keep your phones on and I'll call you when everything is a go.”

In the back of his mind, all Scalvo could worry about was getting to you in time and not getting himself killed in the process.

It was now midnight and Scalvo called both Cobby and Rory to meet him so that they could go over the plan so everyone was clear on what they had to do. Scalvo had explained the plan at least three times, with both of them interrupting him multiple times, making this seem like an impossible task.

“Okay, just one more time.” Rory told Scalvo as he threw his head back in disbelief.

“What are you not getting!? And wait a minute, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking notes.”

Scalvo immediately scoffed.

“Taking notes? On a kidnapping situation? Really?”

“It helps me stay on task.”

“What are you, four?” He asked him as they were sitting in Scalvo's car a block away from the warehouse.

“There's nothing wrong with being prepared!”

“Both of you get out of my car. NOW.” Scalvo told them as he grabbed his gun out of the glove compartment. Earlier in the day, he had made sure that there were enough bullets in there even though all of them would be going in Don's chest or skull. He wanted to make sure he got the job done and was going to make sure that it was done correctly.

By this time, you had fallen asleep, but was startled when you felt someone come up behind you.

You knew that particular smell of cologne anywhere.

“Shh, princess I'm here. But don't make a sound. We have to be quiet because I need to make sure we get out of here in one piece.” He told you as he leaned down and whispered in your ear.

All you did was nod as you felt him cutting the rope that was around your waist, ankles and wrists. Once they were cut, you immediately massaged your wrists and could see that your skin was red from where the rope had been rubbing against it.

He immediately embraced you and kissed the top of your head and you held onto him for dear life as if he was going to disappear at any moment.

“Go to the left and down the backstairs. Cobby is waiting for you there and his dumbass knows not to leave you this time and keep eyes on you.”

“But…” You started to say and Scalvo immediately cut you off.

“I'll meet you outside. I promise.”

All you did was shake your head at him and tears started forming in your eyes because you were not liking this plan at all. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if he actually got hurt.

“Y/N, you have to trust me. We don't have any time to waste.”

The main reason why he didn't want you in there was because he definitely did not want you seeing him shoot someone, much less killing them.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and he watched you as you opened the door and went down the steps before going and searching for Don, Rob, and Booch.

As promised, Cobby was at the bottom of the stairwell and quickly ushered you toward Scalvo’s car that was a block away making sure that no one was following the both of you.

“At this point, I'm 0 for 2 and you have every reason in the world to be pissed at me right now.” Cobby told you and you simply shrugged.

Scalvo was definitely right about one thing.

Cobby never knew what to say out of his mouth. 

Once the two of you reached Scalvo’s car, you slid in the passenger seat and laid your head against the window as Cobby hopped in the driver's seat and drove closer to the warehouse.

The plan was for Scalvo to kill Don along with his minions and set the place on fire. Cobby was going to cut the gas line as soon as Scalvo and Rory walked out of the building.

The two of you sat there on edge waiting for the doors to swing open. Once they finally did, you let out a sigh of relief as Cobby had gotten out of the car and Scalvo quickly taking his place as Rory slipped in the backseat. Cobby came out within a matter of minutes, as the building started to go up in flames.

Once everyone was settled into the car, Scalvo immediately took off and started driving back towards Boston until he suddenly changed his mind. His plan consisted of all of you laying low for a few days before heading back to Boston. 

Just in case. 

The biggest satisfaction that the night had brought for Scalvo was that you were alive and in one piece. The second part was that Don was begging on his knees for his life when he had finally caught up to him. All Scalvo did in return as put a bullet in his head for all the harm he brought to you.

As far as he was concerned, people could mess with him however much they wanted to, but you were off limits. Him doing this hopefully sent a message to everyone else including Mr. Besegai that he was not the one to mess with. He glanced over at you as he merged onto the highway to see that your head was leaning up against the window and that your eyes were closed. He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell indicating that you were asleep. This was something that he knew would change your perspective of things for the rest of your life. 

By the time that all of you had reached the hotel you were mentally and physically exhausted. Not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves, Scalvo drove another hour and a half to put as much distance as he could between all of you and the crime scene. The hotel wasn't super fancy and not anything that you were used to, but you were just excited to be alive. However, it wasn’t on the cheap side either. Only the best for Scalvo’s girl.

Before coming to get you, being the thoughtful person that he was, Scalvo had gone to your apartment and had gotten a few sets of fresh clothes for you knowing that he wasn't letting you out of his sight any time soon.

Once in the hotel room, you took in your surroundings before sitting down in the chair that was near the desk. You had been quiet ever since Scalvo found you and the one thing he wanted to hear was your voice. You sat there as you stared off into space before Scalvo came to kneel down in front of you and gently take your hands in his.

“Princess….” He quietly said and your eyes finally landed on him.

“I have some clothes for you and I want you to get cleaned up and get some sleep. I'll help you.”

When you didn't bother answering him, he tried again.

“Baby, I know that a lot has happened over the past two days, but I need you to do this for me.”

“So, this is why you were always keeping secrets from me? For this exact reason.” You barely said above a whisper and all Scalvo did was nod.

“We can talk about that later, but yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We're going to talk about it now. You know how much I love you and how I told you that I was always worried about you because I knew that something was off. At the very least you could have warned me. You know that I would do absolutely anything for you, no questions asked.”

“I know that now and I should have said something to you, but I didn't want to lose you. You have to understand that. You are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I tried to shield you from this life by breaking up with you, but I only made it worse.” Scalvo confessed as he moved a curl out of your face that had fallen. Your face was bloodied and bruised and it hurt his heart to see you like that.

“I cried myself to sleep every night for two months after you left me and disappeared without a fucking trace. You don't do that to people you love.” You yelled at him as tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks.

When you first saw him, you let out a sigh of relief. Now you were mad and were letting him have it. 

“Yes you do in order to protect them. I know you're pissed at me and for good reason. But us arguing is not going to get us anywhere. At least not tonight. I want you to sleep.”

“So you can leave when I fall asleep? And disappear again?”

“No. I'm not letting you out of my sight. It's more dangerous for us not to be together than to be in a relationship. But that's obviously only if you want to. I understand if you tell me no.”

All you did was sit there as Scalvo had gone into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under hot water and brought it back to you to start removing the dried blood off your face. At the first touch, you instantly winced from the sting and pulled back away from him.

“That hurts.”

“I know, babe but I have to do this so nothing will get infected.”

Reluctantly you moved back towards him and he continued to dab at your face with you wincing every few minutes. Scalvo was taking in the cuts on your face and how one side was noticeably more swollen than the other. The two of you were silent as he finished cleaning off your face and when he was done, you finally spoke.

“If we're going to do this, you have to promise me something.”

“Anything, baby. Name it.”

“From now on there cannot be any secrets between us. You have to be 100% honest with me about everything. I don't care how small it is. You know how I feel about lying by now.”

Scalvo nodded his head as he leaned down to take off your shoes and socks.

“And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Do not ever make me worry like that to the point that I thought you were dead again because I will find you and kill you myself.”

Scalvo let out a laugh before he helped you stand up to get into the shower.

“Yes ma'am.” 

After you had taken a shower, washed your hair, and styled it, Scalvo had actually remembered to grab your bonnet and he quickly slipped it over your hair. Once you were settled in the king sized bed, Scalvo took a shower himself and you dozed off until you felt the bed dip indicating that he had sat down. He sat there for a few minutes and your concern was growing. You gently put a hand on his shoulder and that was when he decided to put it all out in the open how he was feeling.

“You okay?” You quietly asked and he immediately shook his head no.

“Did something else happen that I don't know about?” 

“I literally almost lost you. I almost lost you for good. That was entirely too close. It should have never been that close.”

“But you didn't. You found me and I'm okay.”

“Baby, no you're not. Not a single person that goes through that is okay when it's all said and done. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't get to you in time. All of this happened because of me. You got hurt because of me.”

“Hey, stop. None of that. But you did and I had no doubt that you would.”

“I did. And I thought to myself that my second chance was so close to me that I could reach out and touch it, but it got snatched away from me and I didn't think that this would lead to a happy ending for either of us.” He told you as he turned around to face you.

“But it did. We get a second chance to do it right this time.” You told him as he had laid down next to you and you quickly embraced him as you began to play in his hair. 

“I missed this, I missed us.”

“I missed us too and we're going to be okay.” You told him and he leaned forward to capture you in a kiss.

From the moment his lips touched yours, it honestly felt like a wave of electricity flowing through your body. You quickly kissed him back and attempted to straddle him, but he stopped you.

“Not now. I need you to get proper rest first. But, you can have as many free cuddles as you want.” He told you and you simply laid on top of him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You whispered against his chest as he held onto you tightly.

“Hmm, I don't recall, but I'm all ears if you want to tell me again.” He told you before he leaned down to kiss your forehead as he smiled at you.

A few months had passed and things were getting back to being normal, well as normal as they could be considering what had happened. For Scalvo’s comfort and peace of mind, you moved out of your apartment and into another one that was a good distance away from where the first one had been and you quickly asked him to move in with you. You had been without him longer than you had liked, so it was a quick decision that was made on your part. Of course he did so without a second thought.

It was a Saturday morning and Scalvo had plans to meet up with Cobby and Rory on a new job that Mr. Besegai had told them about.  It was around seven in the morning when you felt Scalvo leave kisses on your face and you quickly popped your left eye open to look at him seeing that he was dressed and wearing too many clothes for your liking.

“Aht! Aht! Baby, where could you possibly be going? It is seven in the morning on a Saturday. Get back over here and lay with me.” 

“I got to meet Cobby and Rory. We got another job to do from Mr. Besegai. I have to meet them at the docks. I won’t be long, princess I promise.” He muttered back to you knowing that you didn't approve. You had told him ever since that incident went down a few months ago that you wanted him out of this life. And of course he told you that it wasn't that easy.

“Scalvo….”

“I know, I know. Just a little while longer. I promise. I just need to stack enough for us to be secure and be able to leave Boston for good.”

“And if you get killed before that, what then?” You asked him as you sat up and crossed your arms.

“It's not going to happen. As long as I know that you're alive on this earth and that I have someone to come home to, I will do everything I can to make sure I get to hold you every night. I love you more than anything in this world. You know that.” He told you as he leaned forward to kiss you. Hearing that made tears prick your eyes, but you quickly wiped it away.

“I love you too. Just go before I change my mind and hold you hostage in this bed.”

“Hmm, you can tie me up later and have your way with me if that's what you're getting at.” He told you as he wiggled his eyebrows and you immediately rolled your eyes at him.

“One hour, princess.” He told you as he grabbed his wallet, keys, and gun from the nightstand. 

Having the gun in the bedroom with you was a whole nother discussion and you definitely didn't approve of it. But you knew he did it to keep the both of you safe. This was a step up because when you had first moved in, he slept with it under his pillow.

“I'm holding you to that.”

“Go back to sleep and I'll bring breakfast back for you.”

You nodded as he placed the comforter back over you to tuck you in before kissing your forehead once more.

As he locked the apartment and went down the elevator and out to the parking garage, someone was leaning on his car that was parked next to yours. He made sure that he had a good hold on his gun before approaching them.

When he did, he was startled to find out it was your father.

“Mr. Lawson?”

He turned to him as he took a long sip of his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“I wish I could I just….”

“This won't take long. Less than two minutes and you'll be on your way.”

“Okay, sure.”

“From the moment we met, I knew I had seen you before. So I did my research with a few buddies that I know and found out about you and what exactly you do for Mr. Besegai. Now let me make this perfectly clear because I am only going to say this once. Stay away from my daughter. I don't want her anywhere near someone like you. Besides, what could you possibly offer her? I know what happened a few months ago and that would have never been the case had she not met you. I know that it was you and your little friend Cobby that broke into my house. If you don't, I will easily have the FBI investigate you and put you away for the rest of your life. I don't want to have this conversation again. Have a good day now.”

As soon as he was done talking, he walked to his range rover and slid into the driver's seat and pulled off leaving Scalvo at a loss as to what had just happened.

He couldn't worry about that now, he had a job to do.

However, what scared him the most was knowing that he had to tell you what had just happened.

[reiderwriter]

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

[sinofwriting]

I'm A Matchmaker, Baby - Ollie Bearman, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen

Words: 4,123 Summary: After Saudi Arabia, Charles fully takes Ollie under his wing, he is his son after all, which leads to Ollie having dinner with the Monaco royal family and meeting the most beautiful girl in the world, the princess of Monaco. Note(s): This is also a Lestappen fic, Max and Charles get together and are together in this fic. They ended up playing a huge part in this fic, so be warned. Also the title is what it is because I can just hear Charles say it.

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Charles had always wanted children. He had wanted children nearly as long as he had wanted to be a Ferrari Formula One driver. He had never expected to be a father this young. But he was and his heart was full because of it.

He wasn’t Ollie’s father on paper or biologically, but what did that matter when it came to the heart and in Charles’ heart, he is Ollie’s father. He already felt something for the young driver, but then Saudi Arabia happened and Ollie had followed him around the Ferrari garage, all polite as he asked his questions, eyes filled with awe and determination. Something had settled in him then. The realization hit only after the race as he waited for the press conference and saw the number of tweets greeting him.

They all were praising Ollie, comparing the two, saying how much Ollie and him were alike. It wasn’t the first time he had heard such things. Arthur had remarked it once, so had Jock, but he hadn’t thought much of it. But now as he scrolled and scrolled and saw the comparisons that fans had made, he couldn’t help but compare them as well. They were quite similar. From the tracks they both liked and performed well at, the love for Ferrari, they both couldn’t cook for shit apparently, and there was even more.

The thing that really got him, a well of fondness striking his heart, was Ollie already talking to someone about this weekend and how when jumping into Carlos’ car for FP3 he struggled with the wheel because he always used Charles’ set up at the factory. It was like it never occurred to him in the near four years he had been with the Ferrari academy to even think of trying another driver’s set up.

“He did well.” A shoulder brushes against his, tehir voice just barely above a murmur.

Charles closes out of his twitter, smiling. “He did very well. Better than Ferrari was expecting.”

He huffs out a laugh, the press of their shoulders becoming firmer. “He really does take after you then.”

A pink blush forms on his cheeks, but he can’t help but beam, pride so quickly filling him. He only seemed to have Ollie for a day, but he would happily kill anyone and anything that would hurt him. “He does. He was amazing during the race, no? Finishing seventh.”

“It’s too bad Lewis is a sure thing. Ollie already seems to be ready for the Ferrari seat.”

If it was anyone else, he would think that they were fishing and if it was anyone else he wouldn’t bother responding, but it was Max. Max had never shared things he said, not when they were matters of the heart or private or even just a bit personal.

“There are things in place. But Ollie would like to do a year in the back or midfield at least before stepping up.”

Max hums, eyebrows furrowed, considering. “Even after this? And what if Carlos isn’t ready for Australia?”

Charles hesitates, eyes darting around, as he thinks of the meeting he has to attend after this to discuss just that.

“Later?” Max offers.

“Later.” He agrees, nodding.

“Nightcap in my room?”

The word yes is on the tip of his tongue, he hates the idea of passing it up, but he shakes his head. “I want to spend some time with Ollie. It was a big day for him. I already plan on getting dinner with him, talking, making sure he is all okay. If you are still up after, perhaps I could stop by?”

Max smiles, eyes crinkling. “You are welcome anytime, of course, Charlie. I’ll have a spare key waiting for you at the front desk or you can always just knock.”

“Thank you, Max.”

Max’s smile grows bigger and he squeezes Charles’ shoulder, once, twice, then three times. “Of course.”

—

Charles leans against the door frame watching as Andrea leads Ollie through the last of his cooldown stretches. His neck was surely hurting and it would be worse tomorrow, but he could see the sheen of cream that Andrea had used on him at the beginning of his F1 career, still did if it had been a practically hard race. And if he knew Andrea which he did, he already knew that there was an extra one in his bag to give to Ollie.

“Hello.” He greets when Ollie finishes his last stretch, straightening with a small groan.

“Charles!” Ollie grins, eyes brightening.

He catches Andrea shaking his head from the corner of his eye, but there’s a fond smile on the older man’s face. “I’ve finished with my meeting, are you ready for dinner?”

Charles fears for a moment his head will come off with how eagerly Ollie shakes it.

They go to a small restaurant, Italian, that Andrea had found for Charles.

Siding into the booth seats, Charles watches, amused, as Ollie looks around with interest, fingers fiddling with his menu.

“I’ve been coming here since the race was introduced. It is nice, no?”

Ollie nods, “it is. Reminds me a bit of…” he trails off and Charles knows what he’s thinking.

“A bit. The owner, her mother, is Italian.”

“Ah.”

Opening the menu, Charles eyes glimpse over it already knowing what he’s going to get, fingers drumming against the table for a moment.

“You did very well during the race, Ollie.”

The boy’s face turns red, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I could have done better.”

Charles shakes his head. “You got one free practice session, managed to qualify ahead of a seven time world champion and a McLaren. You didn’t damage the car and finished in the points. You did fantastic. And you had to get used to a new wheel set up.”

Ollie sputters a bit at the last part.

“It’s just, why would I-” he cuts himself off.

“Why would you what?” Charles asks, staring at him.

“Why would I bother with Carlos’ when yours is there? I mean he’s fine, been nothing nice to me, but you are Ferrari. I wanted to join the academy partially because of you. You’re one of the best of the current generation. And you always let me, let anyone of us bother you with questions.”

“It’s never a bother.” Charles corrects as he thinks of the other Ferrari Driver Academy drivers that sometimes message him with a question or always ask when they see him if he can look over their lap times for a second, which he of course does if he isn’t busy.

“And that! You’re so nice about it. I know Dino once messaged you at three am on accident drunk and you sent a car to get him.”

Charles frowns, “Of course I did. He was in a country he had never been in before and drunk enough to text me. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I didn’t know he got back to his hotel okay.”

Ollie groans and then he’s leaning forward, head hitting the table with a loud thunk that has Charles hissing and pushing at Ollie’s shoulder until he raises his head enough for Charles to look at his forehead.

It’s slightly red and Charles frowns, moving his hand to rub gently at the center of the redness.

“Ollie,” he scolds. “You have to be careful. Your neck has gone through enough strain today. And I don’t know if you should risk hitting your head.”

“It’s fine, dad.” Ollie mumbles, pushing Charles hand away to rub at the spot himself before turning an impressive shade of red.

Charles watches, a beam on his face, as Ollie tries to speak again, saying the word dad again before managing to say the first part of his name.

“You get this from your uncle Lorenzo.”

And that just sends Ollie into another sputter of words that don’t make sense.

He drops off Ollie at his hotel room a few hours later, giving him a hug and putting more cream on his neck, before reminding him that Andrea or him will do it again in the morning before or after breakfast depending on how his neck is feeling.

He stops at his own hotel room to grab his carry-on, his regular suitcase already with Joris before going up two floors and knocking on a hotel room door.

“Charles.” Max greets, eyes crinkling as he smiles before he draws him for a hug.

“Hello.” He presses a kiss to Max’s cheek and ignores the way his own cheeks turn pink as well Max’s from the gesture.

Stepping into the room, he moves further in, setting his carry on by the bed, before collapsing on it, his lips stretching into a smile as he thinks of his dinner with Ollie.

“You are very happy.” Max comments, laying next to him.

“I am. I am very happy.” He breathes. “I’m a dad, Max.” Saying the words out loud, makes his grin grow.

“You-” Max coughs, “you’re a what?”

“A dad, a papa. I do not know the Dutch word for it.”

Max says the Dutch word for dad instantly, like he always does when Charles makes a comment about not knowing the Dutch word for something. “Thank you.” He says, repeating what Max said.

Max clears his throat after a moment and Charles turns his head to look at Max and is surprised to see pain in the blue eyes he likes looking into so much and there’s an unsure expression on Max’s face. His body is still turned towards Charles, but he’s closed off, arms over his chest.

“What is wrong?” Charles asks, concern dripping from his words.

“How old?”

He blinks at him, struggling with the question. “How old is what?”

“The baby. How old is the baby? I mean has it been born?”

Charles stares at him, slightly dumbfounded, because what language was Max speaking? It couldn’t be English.

Then it hits him, his breath of happiness, of him saying he’s a dad.

“No, no!” He scrambles upwards before leaning over Max, hands cupping the barely older’s face. “It is not a baby. I’m talking about Ollie, chérie. I am his dad. Twitter was going on and on about it and then at dinner, oh, Max.” He sighs. “He called me dad.”

The hurt vanishes from Max’s face at his words, cheeks a touch pink from the way Charles is touching him, from the name he called him.

“You two are alike.” He offers before softening further as Charles’ thumbs start to stroke his cheekbones.

“I’m sure you are an amazing dad.”

Charles beams at him. “I hope so. Ollie had to learn Carlos’ wheel setup.”

Max snorts at the whisper. “I see Ollie is part of the Charles Leclerc is the best club.”

Charles flushes, “well you would know.”

He smiles, his fingers finding Charles’ waist. “Yes, I would. It would be poor if the president of the club didn’t know all the members.”

“Max.”

“Charles.”

“Kiss me finally.”

The sheer want on Max’s face has Charles letting out a whine.

“I won’t keep you a secret if we do that Charles. I can’t cross that line.”

Charles shakes his head, “I would never ask you to.” And he finally says, reveals, let outs, the conversation he had before signing his new contract, his one of many non-negotiables. “Ferrari knows. John threw his full support behind me after I called him. They ask for three to six months, just to get things in place, protection. I know, it’s still a secret, but I just have to message them and they set things in motion.” He rambles.

“Charles,” Max breathes, cutting him off and shaking his head. “You talked to Ferrari about us?”

He ducks his head, flushing. “I’m tired of not having all of you, of not getting to say that I’m yours and you are mine. I want more than glances and fleeting touches. I want to be consumed by you. I couldn’t do another year of not knowing what it felt like to feel your hands on my bare skin, to feel your lips on mine. I couldn’t do it.”

Max stares up at him, throat bobbing and there’s a gentle pressure on the back of his neck. “I love you so much.”

And Charles is unable to respond, the lips on his preventing it and he can’t even try to be angry about it as he happily kisses, gets kissed by, Max for the first time.

—

Charles knows that having booked a private room for breakfast the next morning makes it seem like what happened with Max was planned, but thankfully Max knows him. He knows that Charles most mornings on race weekends likes to have breakfast in private, especially if he still is there the next day after the race. Wants to start his day with some peace and be surrounded by his choice of people. Max has never made it to one of these breakfasts before and this is Ollie’s first as well.

Entering the room, and it was nice that only did the hotel have a good restaurant in it but also let you rent out rooms just to eat, hand in hand with Max, he smiles at Ollie, spotting him first, giving Max’s hand a squeeze before letting it go and moving to pull Ollie into a quick hug.

He nearly presses bisous to his cheeks, as he does with all the people he thinks of as family or close to it in greeting, but he doesn’t know if Ollie would be comfortable with it, so he settles for just squeezing him a bit tighter.

Andrea gets greeted with a squeeze to the shoulder as the trainer sips at a cup of coffee, Joris the same, though he has to dodge an elbow to his side, which makes him laugh.

He goes to Pierre after, giving him bisous and getting them in return before his friend looks behind him where Max must be, his eyebrow raising slightly.

Charles flushes, “we are together now, Pierre.”

“Well, I had no doubts about that. You are glowing. I just can’t tell if it’s from finally getting together with Max, becoming a parent, or both.”

“Both. Have you spoken to Ollie?”

Pierre shakes his head.

“You’ll love him and you can go maybe get a head start on being his favorite uncle behind Arthur.”

He scoffs, “as if Arthur could be a better uncle than me.”

“Well, he has a head start.”

Pierre mutters under his breath as he heads over to where Ollie is awkwardly standing and Charles returns to Max’s side, intertwining their fingers and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Pierre gunning for favorite uncle?”

Charles smiles at the question, unable to help himself from pressing another kiss to Max’s cheek. “Yes.

"He’ll get a leg up on Lorenzo, but Arthur is fairly ahead of them both.”

He hums, turning his head to capture Charles’ lips in a short kiss. “At least Vic will be favorite Aunt. Two of them will have to deal with not being the favorite.”

“That’ll be bloody.” Charles scoffs, he still had a scar on his lower back from when Lorenzo and him had roughhoused.

Their mother had been distraught when she had seen the blood, horrified. Their father hadn’t been happy about it but had easily come to terms with being an accident. Poor Arthur had refused to leave him alone, clinging to him as he had been there, though playing on their shared DS.

Jules though… despite having been Lorenzo’s best friend, he had been taken with Charles as soon as he first held him. It had been a joke between Jules’ parents and his to make Jules his godfather, but Jules had latched on to the idea, despite Lorenzo’s protests about Jules liking a gross baby, and by the time Charles was a year old, Jules happily held the title of godfather to Charles.

“You know you won’t win favorite dad with Ollie, right?”

Max smiles, soft and slightly amused. “I know.” His eyes flicker over to where Pierre is talking to Ollie.

Andrea and Joris having their own discussion, though all of their eyes flicker to where Charles and Max are standing.

“And you are okay with that?” There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Charles,” Max laughs. “You’re the only one I’ve ever been okay with winning instead of me. And I, of course, can’t be upset that Ollie thinks the world of you, and will see you as his favorite.”

The barely younger has to blink back tears, “You say the sweetest things, cherie.”

“Only for you, Charlie. Only for you.”

—

“Are you sure I should be coming with you?”

Charles sends him a look and Ollie can’t help but duck his head. “It is for family and I have a good relationship with them. I could bring fifty people and say they are family and it would be okay. And you are family.” He gently cuffs Ollie’s ear. “Max will be coming too.”

“Even after?”

“Yes, even after.”

Ollie doesn’t bother asking how Charles has a custom suit that fits him perfectly, it’s just who Charles and even Max are, though Max doesn’t do any clothes shopping, it’s either sponsored clothing or now things that Charles buys him.

In the car ride to the palace, Max tells him the names of the royal family. And Ollie repeats them over and over again in his head.

“Why won’t Gabriella and Jacques be there?” Ollie asks again, thinking of the youngest two children.

“This is technically a publicity dinner, though it is private. They are only nine, Albert and Charlene are very protective. Next time we are in Monaco there will be a lunch and they will be there for that.”

“But Y/N will be there?”

“Yes.” Charles nods. “She is your age and this is private, but she is not set to inherit the throne.”

“But, a girl could inherit. Gabriella is.” Ollie remembers that much for Max’s rambles about different royal families and their workings.

“Yes, though she is behind Jacques since he was born first, though they are twins. Y/N isn’t interested in being the heir apparent, she currently does such duties and is willing to step up if neither of her siblings want to take the title.”

“Jacques is slightly keen on it, I imagine that Gabriella will be the one to take it.” Max chimes in.

Ollie watches amused as Charles and Max begin to playfully bicker about the siblings though it’s clear that Charles thinks the same as Max.

The car rolls to a stop and Ollie has to take a deep breath before exiting the car after Charles. He watches as the prince greets him warmly, giving him a hug before Charlene does and then Ollie’s breath catches a girl, his age, envelopes Charles into a hug.

They’ve clearly met and know each other well with the way Charles beams at her and her back and he can just hear Charles asking her about something before his attention is drawn away by Max introducing him to Prince Albert.

Ollie ducks his head, extending his hand out. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Albert.”

The prince lets out a chuckle, shaking his hand. “You as well, Ollie. But you can just call me Albert. No need for formalities, not when you are Charles’ son.”

Ollie flushes at the words, but flashes a pleased grin.

“And Max, it’s always good to see you.” Albert cheers, bringing in the world champion for a hug.

“You as well, Albert.”

Charlene greets him much quieter than Albert, though she immediately insists on him not referring to her as princess. “It is lovely to meet you. Charles and Max have both talked about you.”

“Oh, thank you. They’ve both talked about you as well, you and your family.”

“Max and Charles are kind.”

He nods in agreement.

“Ollie,” Charles calls and he instantly turns to look at him. “I want you to meet, Princess Y/N.”

“Please, just call me Y/N.” She immediately says with a shake of her head, before extending a hand out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ollie.”

He can feel himself turning red as they shake hands, her eyes on him and even just the slightest touch of their fingers and palms. “You as well.”

—

“So Ollie,” Charles murmurs, the words nearly a slur from sleep and the many drinks he had.

Max pulls Charles tighter, nosing at his wet hair, happy that even this drunk it was easy to get Charles to take one, get rid of the stench of the clubs they had been in. “Yeah, he definitely likes Y/N.”

“Oh, thank god. She clearly likes him. I mean did you see her at dinner and then at Jimmy’z? She was so flustered. She confused her silverware. She hasn’t done that once in the near eight years I’ve known her.”

“Charles,” Max warns, already knowing where this is headed and he just knows he’s not going to hear the end of this when they wake up in a few hours, hungover and eager to indulge in greasy food before a workout. “Don’t play matchmaker.”

He can feel his pout against his collarbone, before he’s moving until he’s entirely on top of him and Max lets out a silent oof as Charles’ elbows knock against his ribs, but his hands follow along, eagerly wrapping his arms around him and pulling him until he’s pressed completely against him.

“But babe.”

Max flushes at the pet name. “Go to sleep, Charles. Think about it in the morning.” His eyes slip shut as he realizes what he just said, a silent fuck leaving his mouth

Charles wiggles against him, a beam pressed against his cheek. “I knew you’d help me! Yes, we will talk after we sleep. I’m thinking a lot of flowers and my yacht. They’ll love it.”

“Mhmm.” Max says, “let’s go to bed.”

“Okay. Love you, chérie.”

“Love you too.”

—

Stepping onto the yacht, Ollie gives a smile to the older gentleman that Charles hires to drive the yacht when he’s not feeling up to it or knows he’s going to be drinking.

“Hi Nicholas.”

“Good afternoon, Ollie.” His lips twitch into a smile. “Your father has asked that you go below until we are at sea.”

“He has a surprise for me, doesn’t he?”

Nicholas shrugs, “I’m unaware of any surprise.”

Ollie groans that was definitely a yes.

Despite that, he goes below deck, settling nicely into the hammock that is there despite the much better and cozier one that is above.

It’s over thirty minutes before Charles sends him a text telling him to come up.

Getting out of the hammock, he jogs up the stairs and over to the part of the deck where they always eat. He nearly skids to a stop however when he sees a massive amount of flowers and his breath catches, the princess.

“Princess Y/N, I had no idea.” He runs a hand through his hair and tries to not think about the t-shirt he is wearing.

She quickly stands, nearly tipping forward, but he quickly grabs her, keeping her upright. She smiles,

“Ollie, it’s nice to see you again. Did Charles message you about lunch as well?”

He smiles back at her, heart beating a little faster. “Yeah. Have you seen him?”

Her eyebrows press together, “I thought he was down below. That’s what Nicholas said.”

“Nicholas told me to wait down below until we were at sea. Charles texted me telling me to come up here.”

Ollie’s cheeks flush and his hands that were still resting on her drop, something he can’t help but mourn a little. “I think I know why he isn’t here, but we are.”

“Oh?”

He nearly gulps, hands feeling a little sweaty. “At the dinner, I was a bit flustered.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Most people are at dinner with my parents, especially my father.”

“I was nervous.” He tells her. “But, I was flustered because of you. I mean, you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh.” She blinks before her head ducks down. “I was flustered as well.”

A smile pulls at his lips at the quiet whisper. “Really?”

“Yes. I mean, I used my table fork instead of my salad fork. I haven’t done that since I was maybe ten.”

“I really made you flustered.”

“Unbelievably so.” She laughs.

“Shall we have this lunch that Charles put together? Maybe plan another lunch or dinner for after this?”

“I’d love that.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Pretty Girl part 3

part 1 || part 2 || part 4

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, house party, drunk reader and other characters, guy flirting with reader, jealous regina, hinted at hookups

|| Summary; regina drags reader to a house party. Things take an... unexpected turn. Hopefully for the better?

Requests open!

Started; october 2nd

Finished; october 3rd

~~~

The ride to the party felt like it took forever (totally not because it took me so long to make this...) when you finally got there; you practically jumped out of the car. Excitement and nervousness hitting you like a bus as you got a glimpse at your first ever house party. Shane's house wasn't anything too insane, not compared to Regina's at least but it was nice. Definitely a house used for parties.

The five of you made your way in, Regina walking a little ahead of everyone else. When you stepped into the house, she took your hand and lead you through the crowds. Making sure you were always close to her. She wasn't taking her chances tonight.

She lead you around some corners and halls until you reached the kitchen. Regina looked at you, seemingly studying you," what kind of drink would you like?"

Truthfully, you'd never really tried anything before. So you shrugged," I dunno, surprise me- but something light?"

Regina turned her focus back to the fridge. Moving some cans aside to get a good look at what all they had. She found her preference, then grabbed something she thought you might like and tossed it to you without warning. You fumbled the can, then it hit the ground with a thud that made you flinch and Regina laugh.

"How cute, you're not even drunk and you're already clumsy as shit." Her teasing was lighthearted, you could just tell in her tone. It was different from how she talked to others. It always was.

You gave her an eye roll as you bent down to grab the can, though your foot accidentally kicked it and made it roll.

"Great." You muttered under your breath, she laughed again as she watched it start to roll away.

"Better go get it, before someone else does." She continued to tease you over your situation; making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Of course you would make a fool of yourself at your first house party.

You followed after the can, it reached the start of a crowd before you were able to pick it up. A guy bumped into you and winked when he saw you kneeling to the ground.

"Damn, girl." He called out with a whistle, earning a groan and another eye roll from you.

What you've learnt; parties are not your scene. Drinks aren't for you and the people at the parties definitely are not either.

"Leave me alone," You replied, starting to make your way back to the kitchen when he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you close.

"But why? You looked like you could use some company." You could feel his breath against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver through your whole body.

"She already has company, dipshit." Regina stood barely a few inches from you, arms folded with an intense glare in her eyes. You could feel the guy release your shoulder," I'm feeling nice tonight, so I won't do anything. But if you so much as touch her again-"

"Regina, I'm okay." You assured her, not wanting her to fight yet another guy for your sake. As hot as it was the first time back in the cafeteria, you really didn't want to cause a scene.

Her eyes snapped to you and you could just barely hear her huff," fine." Taking your hand in a fierce grip, she pulled you away to a more secluded spot," You okay? That guy's a dick."

She was softer again, part of you started to wonder something... but that would be impossible, right? Why would Regina George like you?

Her eyes were soft, but with a lingering hint of that glare from before; and you couldn't pull yourself to look away from them. So much so that you'd nearly forgotten the question she asked you," oh- I'm fine. Promise." You stuttered out lamely, she smirked at your stutter.

A little later into the party, Regina was well into her fourth drink while you were only on your second. You were taking things at a much slower pace than she was. The two of you were in the crowd, dancing away and laughing.

Regina couldn't help but stare at you. Your smile, the way your eyes lit up... she was starting to recognize that she was seriously beginning to fall for the pretty girl in front of her. She just hoped that you would be there to catch her.

Her thoughts must've gotten away from her because before she knew it, her lips were on yours. Your body flush against her as she kissed you with a feverish intensity.

The rest of the night was a complete blur to her, too drunk to remember anything that had or hadn't occurred.

There was only one thing she knew for certain; and that's that the following morning... you had ended up in her bed.

~~~

Surprise Pretty Girl update! Happy October 3rd y'all‼️🫶

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 8: The Suit𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 7 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.2K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: You and Cedric talk about the Yule Ball, you slip up, accidentally nearly revealing a secret, and you realise something about yourself.

Notes: Please comment on anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British, so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK. (I'm very sorry for the late ass update but motivation hates me)

Content warning: Swearing and a slur

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDIT TO ME!

...

Over the next few hours, it seemed Winnie had informed most of your friends because, after breakfast, Elsie and Brian came to visit you and handed you the homework you hadn’t completed yet so you didn’t have to go back to your dorm.

Even Alistair gave you a quick visit. He apologised for his behaviour and how rude he was back at the first Triwizard Tournament Task. It seems your friends had given him a strict talking-to based on how he swallowed his words, voice a nearly undeletable murmur. You forgave him, of course; you had been friends for years, and you had already corrected him when he said other stupid shit.

His jaw clenched when you informed him you and Cedric had made up. When Alistair held a grudge towards someone, he was likely to keep it for a while, so you barely noted his reaction. At least he didn’t say anything rude.

“All right, here are the last few books about magical riddles and puzzles,” you dropped a pile of around six books on the table next to Cedric.

Over the past few weeks, you had gotten closer, and you started considering him a friend as you tried to solve the mystery of the egg. Usually, you’d work on it in one of your dorms, but now, both of your roommates wanted quiet time, so you couldn’t open the egg around them. 

Cedric suggested heading to the library to skim through the books you hadn’t read to find ideas, but for the past few hours, you had found nothing of use. Besides, the egg was in Cedric’s dorm since you were supposed to be quiet in the library.

“Which one do you want to start with?” you asked him, checking out the overs of each novel.

“Ugh! This is useless,” groaned the Hufflepuff, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He had been skimming through an old, thick grimoire, and his irritation was evident. 

You huffed, “What? Giving up, Diggory? I thought you were beter than that?”

“Not funny, (Name). We’ve been going at it for, what, three hours? Four, even? And we still haven’t found anything that works. Spell are useless and it’s not in any languages we’ve seen.”

“Actually, it’s a quarter to five, so it’s been three hours and a half.” You checked your watch, “But I agree. Trying to find out what that dammed egg is trying to tell us is way too difficult. We should take a break.” You suggested, sitting on the table, your feet on the chair next to Cedric.

He nodded eagerly.

“Great! Let’s just talk for, like thirty minutes to refresh our brains.” 

Cedric hummed, “I actually do have a question for you. I mean, everyone’s been talking about the Yule ball for a while and a lot of people already have date. I was just wondering who you’re going with.”

The answer slightly startled you, but it didn’t shock you. As he said, everyone — especially the girls who got to go — was ecstatic for the Yule ball. Every corner you turned, giggles, murmurs and questions could be heard about this rare event.

And a school full of romance-focused teens, an event where you could bring someone you liked to, and a bunch of attractive foreign students most definitely resulted in trashy love confessions and awkward rejections. Unfortunately for you, no one had asked you to go with them on a date. Even Winnie hadn’t — which was strange, considering you did almost everything together.

“Nah, I’m not really interested in that stuff right now,” you replied, but you felt it in your gut — you were lying to yourself. “How about you? Any special girl you’d want to spend the night with.” You didn’t know why, but despite your curiosity for his answer, the words felt like vomit coming out of your mouth.

Cedric chuckled, “Yeah: Cho Chang. She’s a fifth year in Ravenclaw. You know her?”

You nodded slowly. Although you weren’t close, she was one of the few friends you and Cedric shared back when you were still enemies. She was really sweet and intelligent — so much so that she once corrected your homework in your 3rd year at Hogwarts. Like everyone else in her house, she was creating: inventing stories and other worlds, recounting them to the few people who attended her storytelling club a year ago.

A knot twisted in your gut, but you ignored it.

“That’s nice,” you said carefully after a small beat of silence, “How long have you two been dating? I don’t recall you saying anything about a relationship.”

Cedric let out a light chuckle, “ That’s because we’re not.”

“You’re…not?”

“Nope. Everyone just assumes so since we’ve been close in the past couple of months, but we’re just friends.” He explained.

You nodded, internally letting out a sigh of relief. “What are you wearing, if you don’t mind me asking?” You slid into the chair next to him and placed your chin onto your palm.

“I thought I was asking the questions,” Cedric smirked but continued before you could apologise, “Don’t worry about it, (Name). My mum just bought me a new fancy outfit when she found out I was the Hogwarts Champion. What about you?”

“Me?” You asked, pointing to yourself, “My dad sewed me a white suit. He sent it to me by owl a few days ago, but I’ve yet to try it on. It’s honestly impressive rather, considering it was handmade. I mean, sure, it has a few loose threads and it isn’t the best quality, but I appreciate the effort.”

Cedric’s eyebrows furrowed, but he kept his charming smile, “Handmade? I’ve never heard of a wizard who doesn’t use his wand to sew.”  Shit. “What’s it like, what does he do.”

Oh, you fucked up. 

There were not many known Muggleborn or Half-blood Slytherins, considering that not only most of the house were Pureblood, but kids were often bullied for merely being not “fully wix”. For a while, you’d been pretty good at keeping the fact that your father did not practice magic — only informing your close friends — but it was so difficult whenever you got close to anyone else. Even the thought of telling Cedric nauseated you with how his opinion of you would change.

“Oh-um, well,” you stammered, “He’s very fascinated with Muggles, y’know?”

“I’ve never heard of a wizard sewing by hand before. He must really care a lot for you. What does he do for work?” Cedric attempts to get the information out of you. Was he onto you? Did he realise you weren’t a Pureblood like most people thought you were?

You shrugged, visibly uncomfortable, but trying to hide it. “It’s nothing, really. And as for his work, he’s, um,” You made incomprehensible hand gestures, trying to fill the void of silence.

Before anything else could happen, a young Slytherin girl peeked her head over a bookshelf, “Oh, (Surname), there you are!”

You and the Hufflepuff turned to look at her.

“I need yur help: someone pranked my sister and we need your help to undo the jinx.” The girl looked at you with panicked eyes, “Someone dumped auto-freezing water on her and I don’t want her to die.”

You stood up, using that opportunity to escape from the conversation with Cedric, “Of course!” You turned to Cedric to wish him goodbye when a thought struck you. Water. “Ced, about the egg, have you tried to pour water into it? Maybe it only screams random nonsense when human ears hear it without anything to…change it, I guess.”

With that, you followed the Slytherin girl out of the library, leaving Cedric with a possible solution to the egg riddle and more than a few questions about your personal life.

That night, you opened your closet to the white suit your dad sent you. You definitely downplayed how beautiful it really was. It looked like it was made for a royal ball, with golden chains and pins decorating it. You hadn’t tried it on yet since you were honestly afraid to break it. You loved your dad. You really did. But the thought of everyone’s judgement on your bloodline was nauseating.

You carefully took it out of your closet, stroking the silk fabric. Your auntie and your grandmother loved sewing, so it was only natural that your dad picked up the skill. But that outfit was really something else. Would Cedric like it?

“(Name)?” You heard Alistair call your name from behind you, “We need to talk.”

You carefully hung it back up and turned to Alistair. His arms were crossed and he had a serious look on his face — a rare sight. Truth be told, you were still slightly annoyed at him for his disrespect, but you felt as if you had forgiven him.

“What’s up?”

He paused and a sense of caution and dread settled in your stomach. “I’m really worried about you?”

“How so?” You frowned.

“Well, it’s only been, what, a month, since you recovered from that injury, and I don’t mean to say that you shouldn’t have healed or whatever, but,” Alistair paused and sighed, “I just feel that it’s odd that you and Diggory are super close in such a short span of time.”

You gave him a look that said you were clearly not unimpressed, “Really, mate? I already told you, we forgave each other. You should know by now that I love giving others second chances, considering how many I gave you.”

“I know,” He sighed, “But, I’m genuinely worried. I know I haven’t been the greatest friend, but trust me when I care for you. I mean, I doubt you’d ever date him, because you’re not one of the fag-”

“I swear to God, Alistair I am not in the mood for you to say a fucking slur, understand?” You snap at him, cutting him off, “I know that you care and I know that you mean well, but you can’t be rude just because I held a grudge against a Hufflepuff, okay?”

Alistair’s jaw clenched, and the glint in his eyes was all but friendly, but for the first time in forever, he stayed calm. “Okay. I’m just looking out for you.” He started backing away towards the door, “Just don’t come running back if he breaks your heart.”

After a few seconds, you sat on your bed. Man, this was a stressful day.

But…that short conversation with Alistair left thoughts bubbling in your head. You recollected the way Cedric’s smile made you feel, the little details you noticed about him, like the way he rested his forehead in his hands whenever he read intensely, and even the odd thing you felt when he mentioned going to the Yule ball with Cho.

Was it possible that you…

No. No way you’d fall for Cedric. After all, as Alistair stated, it had only been a month, and how could you have fallen for the person you once hated the most in that short amount of time?

You exhaled loudly, deciding to just curl up into your covers and rest to clear your mind, and possibly gain more clarity in the morning. No, it did not matter that you were still in your uniform. You were tired and to you, that was all that mattered at the moment.

You closed your eyes and sleep surprisingly came easily.

Sometimes, your dreams were difficult to separate from reality. Sometimes, they were memories, and other times you dreamt of things you desired.

This one was situated in what you believed the Yule ball to look like; a white room with silver accents and and engravings on the walls and ceiling shining like glittering ice. The floor was marble and you saw the reflection of the crystal chandelier that hung from the silver ceiling. 

You could hear classical music coming from all around the room and saw that you were all alone except for one person. Cedric. What was he doing here? And why were you two slow dancing together?

Your confusion disappeared when you looked into his gorgeous grey eyes and saw his dashing smile. Butterflies tickled your stomach and you felt heat rush to your cheeks and neck. The whole experience felt surreal, and you found yourself returning his smile.

Slowly, the music started fading, and all you could focus on was Cedric. He squeezed your hand. It felt so real. He put his other gloved hand on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real. His eyes flickered to your lips and he closed them as he leaned his face closer to yours. It felt so real. When your lips finally connected, you thought to yourself: “I wish this was real.”

You woke up. Not to a glittering ballroom, but to your dark dorm, staring at the ceiling that was not silver like in the dream, but green. That was all a dream? You would have asked yourself if not for the realisation of your feelings towards Cedric. 

You liked him.

...

Chapter 9

If you'd like to request fanfiction, please check out my Masterlist (which has all the fandoms I write for) and my Request Page (which has the rules about what I write).

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hello...~ sweet heart...~ may i've a request for ( any Transformers character you read And I hope you write to knock out too ) x sexy fem human s/o Who likes to tease them every time after going on a date with them ... please pretty please

((KNOCKOUT WILL BEEEEEEEE!))

"Come on! You don't need to be so prude, just a small drink!"

You kept on walking, the sound of your heels was stronger now that you were leaving the club, phone in your hand while calling a cab. You were currently ignoring this guy. What was his name again? Kyle? Something like that? Anyway, you completely lost interest in him by just hearing him make some grammatical errors, but he was one of those guys, the ones that just can't take a hint.

You literally slapped in his face your credit card just to avoid him offering you the cocktail that had appeared in front of you, the cheapest on the menu even, and even after you had responded in monosyllables, he was still as dense as a brick.

Or he was just very stupid, not like you cared enough.

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice here!" You don't need to act like a bitch! What, are you too good to talk with someone like me?!"

You just sighed. So he was one of those guys, huh? You just raised your phone, waiting for the line to pick up, only you and that idiot on the road… and a car.

"At least you can respond!"

"Primus, can't you take a hint?"

After a small surprise, you smiled, turning around while a sports car moved closer to the two of you. The light of the club reflected on the shining red of the vehicle; the tinted windows obscured the rider, even if you knew already who was talking now.

"Hello, doll…" the male voice purred. "Sorry I made you wait with this idiot."

"Oh, it's fine, babe." You smiled, caressing the car's window.

"I thought you were still in the race!"

"I won, of course."

Maybe it was the luxurious car. Maybe it was the absolutely take no shit voice inside or the fact that you were actually ignoring his presence, but your desperate idiot held the expression of someone that has been struck by thunder: his mouth half open, his gaze shifting between the car, a European one, and yourself.

Then he said something…race? He was racing? A bolt of fear struck him like real thunder. Were you the girl of a mob or something?! He started to back off; your cold demeanor completely changed to a sweet one towards the one inside the car.

Oh, if he only knew!

"Jump in, doll; this place is too cold for a pretty thing like you."

One of the doors opens, allowing you entrance to the passenger seat. While maneuvering, the voice decided to pester that good-for-nothing one last time.

"By the way, she IS too good for you."

Before he could say anything, the car was already gone.

///

"Was that one of those hideous flashers that keep pestering you around, darlin'?"

"One of the few," you sighed, relaxing on the leather of his interior, feeling the warmth of the heated seat on your skin. "Not like I can't manage them, but this one didn't know how to get the hint."

Knockout chuckled, thanking himself that he still decided to plant that tracker on your phone. When he told you the first time, you weren't that sure about it, but it became quite handy, especially during his surprise visits.

"Well, how could I blame him? You look ravishing, darling…"

His internal camera googled you, admiring how your hand covered that small smile and that oh-so-adorable blush on your face. You were wearing a quite simple black pencil dress; its length reached just above your knees, with low shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline. The only accessory on you was the pearl earrings that he had purchased in secrecy once you had confessed to him how lovely you found that kind of jewelry. There was nothing extravagant about you; you were quite simple in the eyes of others. What really caught the attention of others, and Knockout too, was your way of acting, your way of leading, and that aura that could make the strongest Decepticon fall at your feet and make him pledge loyalty to you. Not like he acted like he was the strongest one, but the fact that you considered yourself his mate was enough to stir pride in his already strong ego.

You were beautiful, let's be clear, the kind that many men before had tried many times to hit on you. But despite the ones that didn't like the chase and the ones that couldn't understand that your interest was close to zero, no one really caught your eye until Knockout, but he wasn't even a man at all.

You met on one of those nights when they set up movies in open space. You didn't even notice him approaching your car, but you did hear his whistle, and for one second you did want to shout at him. Your surprise when He corrected himself, explaining that he was just complimenting your car. You didn't buy it at first, then he started to meticulously explain how beautiful and well preserved it was…well, he did enjoy the car.

You two kept on meeting like this, small talk here, some actual good conversation… You didn't know how, but you started to look forward more to meeting him, and so did he.

Maybe it was the curiosity, maybe the fact that for once someone was able to actually get you, but you ended up starting to get a crush on a guy that you never even see in person yet. And, probably, he started to feel something too, to the point that he needed to come clean to you.

He knew you were a curious one because he expected some screeching, maybe you fainting; instead, you just put your hands on your hips, expressing your disappointment at not being able to dine in some nice place with him.

Some soft jazz in the background—it was mostly your music, but he did end up starting to like it too.

If it was someone else, he would have found himself incredulous at how much your life was able to crawl under him, taking a portion and rearranging it like it was nothing, like it was natural or something meant to happen, but he wasn't like many others. Knockout had learned from the beginning of the war to adapt, to learn, and to use everything at his disposal for his own survival, being someone else or a cause. It was his second nature, maybe the most Decepticon trait he could ever have. But you were a welcome change, and he was proud to admit it…to himself at least.

You were his secret, the best kept, even more than his illegal races. He was more cautious with your small escapades than with his private hobby, fearing that someone would have taken you away from him. But he had his countermeasures; maybe the situation would had rised.

He felt your finger, outside the window, caressing with the tip the sharp line that started from the handle and ended just closer to the mirror. A small gasp exited your mouth, a disappointed look in your eyes, not for him, of course.

"Did they scratch you again?"

"Some idiot can't take a loss, darling. But, they got what they deserved."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not as much as I hurt THEM." He laughed, and you could not resist imitating him.

"Would a kiss make it better?" You purred again, feeling the engine going faster, the heating of the cockpit going higher.

You were goign to be the end of him.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Good Enough - Edward Nashton (The Riddler) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Edward has never felt good enough for anyone or anything. When the self-help resources fail to work and the feelings of inadequacy grow stronger by the day, he begins to doubt that he's even worthy of being loved, but you're there to comfort him and remind him of just how much he matters.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Minor spoilers for Riddler: Year One, a lot of angst, hurt with comfort, fluff, mentions of smut (but no actual smut)

Repulsive. Broken. Unwanted. Not good enough. The words he told himself had buried their way into his thoughts, repeating themselves like a twisted mantra that never ended, even with the constant use of every self-help tip and coping skill he had learned. That same mantra had been there so long that he couldn't remember when it had first started.

Maybe it was never something new at any point; maybe it was just the truth that he kept trying to deny with ledgers filled line to line with positive affirmations that he could never convince himself of. 'You are good enough.' No, he wasn't. He never would be. He was fighting a losing battle against himself.

At least at the end of the day, he had someone to come back home to, someone who told him every day how much she loved him. Before he had met you his only form of salvation was his puzzles, like it had always been since he was a young child. With you here, though, he had more than just riddles and crosswords online and in the local paper to look forward to after a long workday. You were the only good thing that Gotham City had to offer. You were an angel, his angel.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and closed it behind him, a smile making its way onto his face at the sound of your shoes against the wooden floor as you made your way from the bedroom and toward him. You grinned widely as you saw him, your arms outstretched and wide open before you wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Hi," He murmured in greeting, hugging you back as he nuzzled his face into your soft, beautiful hair. You smiled even wider, looking up at him with eyes that always made him melt with just a single look into his own. "How was work, Eddie?" You questioned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"It was—" He paused, trying to find the right words. Shit. It was shit. His boss was a condescending, passive-aggressive, arrogant prick who slacked off more than he worked and still managed to be more successful in his career than Edward had ever been. As much as he wanted to vent, he didn't want to burden you with more than he already was by being with you.

"Fine." He finally decided, putting on a fake smile. "Same old calculations and whatnot. Nothing interesting." He lied. It was another day of statements from Zach that were insulting enough to strike a nerve, but not obvious enough to report to HR. Not like it'd matter, it would probably get swept under the rug and forgotten about. Some days Edward wondered if his superior was actually the pompous dick he thought him to be or just an idiot with confidence.

"Oh." You could see right that smile on his face. Something was bothering him like it had been for days now and you could tell. It broke your heart knowing he was struggling and that same struggle left him unable to feel okay confiding in anyone. "Are you sure...?" You questioned, a hand moving upwards to cup his cheek gently, the man leaning into your comforting touch.

He had lied to you. How could you lie to her? You manipulative, disgusting freak. As the thoughts filled his head, guilt washed over him. God, he didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve your affection, and most certainly not your love. Did he deserve any love at all? Was there anything to love about—

"Eddie?" Came your soft voice, the sound like that of an angel. He broke himself out of his thoughts, smiling at you again. "I think I'm gonna go pick us up some takeout for dinner. What do you want?" He changed the subject, moving away from you and back towards the door.

"No." You said a bit sternly, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the nearby couch, sitting down with him. "You're not getting out of this that easily. Tell me what's wrong, Eddie."

"It's not you, I promise that it's not." He insisted quickly, afraid he had upset you with his earlier lie. She's going to leave you. She never should've been yours to begin with. You ruin every good thing you get. He grew tense as the fears filled him and threatened to consume him whole. You were so perfect, so deserving of every amazing thing the world had to offer and more, and he was just... Edward Nashton.

"Woahwoahwoah!" Your hands shot forward at the sight of tears beginning to well up in his eyes, your thumbs wiping them away as they fell. "I'm not mad, honey. I just—" You stopped, unsure how to phrase things. "I'm worried about you. You can tell me anything, as cliche as that sounds. You're not a burden to me; you never have been, and you never will be."

He buried his head into your shoulder, sobbing into it as your arms came to hold him close to you. "Why? Why do you love me? I–I don't understand..." He cried softly against you. "All of these years you've spent with me and I can't comprehend why. Is it out of pity?" He asked. While to anyone else it would've sounded like a bold accusatory remark, you knew that the question was genuine. He needed to know.

"Look at me, Edward." You commanded gently, him moving so he could face you and meet your eyes with his own. The sight of tears running down his face and wettening his glasses broke your heart. "Three years we've been together. In those three years, I've fallen more in love with you than I have anyone else. We've made love more times than I can count. I even wait for the day you'll put a ring on my finger, no matter which one it is. It could be made out of scrap metal for all I care, as long as it's from you.

You're smart, Eddie. Tell me, does everything I just listed sound like I only pity you? Or does it sound like I'm head-over-heels in love with the man in front of me? You are good enough. I love you, Edward Nashton."

That made him cry even harder, but you were there to hold him, just as you had been since you stumbled into his life. If he wasn't good enough for himself, then at least he was good enough for his angel. You wanted a ring on your finger? He'd get you one in due time. Anything for the one who showed him that he could be loved, that he wasn't some type of vermin in the cesspool that was Gotham City. You are good enough. For once, he believed it.