#She ended up getting a stern talking to

[bugs-and-grass]

Joltik care tip: Keep a small battery (button cell or AAA work fine) in your pocket in case the lil fella needs a recharge. Just set it next to them and they'll perk back up in no time! Just remember to dispose of used batteries properly!

Also never give a Joltik a lithium ion battery. They're called spicy pillows for a reason and you do not want to learn why at the expense of your little friend.

[fragmentedblade]

The "Dan Heng is Dan Feng" dogmatics annoy me a lot. It entirely brushes off one of the most interesting and prevalent questions posed by the game, incarnated by several characters and stories that give the question different hues with different potential answers, and a constant also in HI3, like a thread waving the two games together

[stan-leigh-bowery]

Sitting in my house today, having not eaten in the 7 hours I had been awake, still in my robe, waffling between the four things I wanted to get done, obsessively googling what might be wrong with Reed, I had the thought

Oh

I must be depressed. I certainly have many of the clinical symptoms.

This feels like a deranged way to come to this conclusion, but also, I think it would be more concerning if I wasn't depressed. How could I not be. I don't think anyone is that resilient.

[wtf-amiru]

y’all I finally got my official adhd diagnosis today and I’m still too excited about it to sleep

[nicholasgoodgirl]

could you make a jealous Nicholas smuttt???

request accepted!

crazy in love -nicholas

summary: you get jealous so you successfully make nicholas jealous in return and he teaches you a lesson.

warning: smut, pin v, unprotected sex (plsplspls use a condom), overstimulation (i think thst it not sure)

a/n: thanks for the request. pls keep them coming

nicholas wanted me to attend this red carpet event with him, and of course i was quick to accept but i quickly dreaded and pushed down the eargness i so suddenly felt to be able to attend such an important place. i started going down a rabbit hole of posts of him with other girls.

the comments collectively agreeing he looks better with the other women he has worked with in the past.

i cut my phone off and waited in silence for my boyfriends stylist to be done with the finishing touches on his suit.

i walk in the dressing room and he was laughing with his stylist, and of course she had to be a woman.

at the after party of the even i planned on getting pay back for the jealousy he probably didn't even know he had instilled in me.

--

we were here at the after party and I've seen a few recognizable celebrities there but wouldn't dare approach them.

nicholas' hand was comfortably placed around my waist "nervous?" he asks, his words coming out ever so subtly "nope, why would i be" he replied with a low hum; shrugging.

i left his side and went to go get drinks he dispersed off somewhere else as well.

not even 10 minutes later i found myself talking to some guy with nice brown hair that complimented his soft brown eyes but his looks didn't even compare with my man.

"do you have somewhere to be after this?" he asked and i just let out a chuckle "maybe" i looked around to seen nicholas eyes were already on us.

i swallow drly and try and wrap the conversation up "i think i gotta go" that was my abrupt attempt on ending the conversation.

"c'mon pretty lady i can make it worth your while" the man placed his hands on my hip trying to make me stay.

before i could say anything i was being dragged away from him to no suprise by my boyfriend himself.

"let go of me" my voice wobbles. i struggle to tug my hand out of his grip; trying to get free. "no, we're going home. now." his voice was stern and there was no question. we were going home.

-

in a hurry nicholas unlocks the door, we both walk in and he slams the door shut behind us "what the fuck was that!?" he shouts.

"suddenly we go to a party and you're single?" i feel guilty but then remember the pictures i saw of him with other girls; looking cozier then ever.

"tha-thats not what happend at all" i try to explain myself. "you need to be taught a lesson. wanna be taught a lesson love?" he asks, his hand firmly squeezing my cheeks too firm towards i could only nod

"yeah I'm sure you do" he scoffs and pulls me to our shared room.

once we reach the dimly lit room, the only light illuminating the room was the warm tone of the lamp.

Nicholas pushes me down on the bed and crawls ontop of me starting to place open kisses down my neck, to my collar bone.

going back up to my lips, grabbing my face kissing me roughly. i moan into the kiss giving him enough space for his tounge to invade my mouth, claiming me as his.

he stops what he's doing "take your clothes off" he demands. i comply and begin taking off my heels throwing them aside with a loud bang they hit the ground follwed by the other heel. then pulling my dress off painfully slow so he does it for me.

snatching the material over my head and tosses it aside kissing down my stomach, trailing down to my inner thigh.

"you're so perfect" he mumbles, his fingers mess with the hem of my lacey panties and pulls them down and off me.

he goes down on me and licks the arousal that leaked from my core. i bite my lip to suppress a moan.

another lick, and a pressured kiss against my clit. i was a mess. feeling his breath against me sent shivers all over. i let out a gasp when he swirl his tounge on me. i felt my orgasm nearing; the band ready to snap "close- oh fuck!" i shout

he pulls away almost immediately. "not yet you aren't. turn over f'me"

"please.. i just- m'sorry" i whine, turning over anyway putting my ass in the air "sweetheart this is a punishment you can cum whenever i say. alright?" he says with faux sympathy

i hear his belt fall to the ground and his zipper unzip before he positions himself behind me and lines his throbbing cock up with my entrance.

with a deep thrust, he buries himself far inside me. "you feel that? how deep im inside you?" i nod vigourisly letting out a whimper. his hips snap forward; each thrust giving pushing my body up the bed.

his hand moves down my back pushing my face into the bed allowing me to take him deeper.

nicholas leans down and whispers in my ear "could he fuck you like this?" everything was so intense i could harldy ever come up with a verbal response for anything he asked. so again i shook my head 'no'

he grabs my hair and makes a makeshift ponytail "could he?" ,,no" i cry out squeezing my eyes shut in relief when he lets go of my hair

he continues slamming into me at a relentlessly brutal pace. the only sounds that could be heard was lewed sounds of skin slapping together paird with my muffled moans

we discussed a safe word prior to moments like these and i would have used it in this moment but as intense as everything was it felt so good.

without warning i clench around him and realese the knot that had formed in my stomach bursting. his thrusts didn't slow down, "i didn't say you could cum" he disdainfully reminded

i hiss at the sensitivity. my vision began to blur with tears while I also realize this is him teaching me a lesson. "apologies" he demands "imsorry.. im so fucking sorry" i began sobbing

i could no longer keep my body up my legs began to shake but no matter the condition nicholas' hands kept me in place as he pounds into me. before i knew it he had finished inside me already

i was so far gone in a daze i didn't even realize it. he pulls out and lets my body flop onto the bed "are you alright?" he asks tucking pieces of hair that had fallen in my face behind my ear.

he gets one of the throw blankets and puts it over me. 'mm' is all i could muster up. i was fine but in the moment i just wanted to sleep

a/n: i wanted to add aftercare but i feel like this was long enough..

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

cw: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   

“What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”  

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. 

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  

“Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   

“So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   

“Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   

“Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth. 

“Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.   

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  

“Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants. 

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.   

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  

“What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. 

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves… 

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #46

"I'm transferring you all to another branch to focus on your teamwork." Batman announced to the Young Justice League out of nowhere.

The news surprised the whole group. They've been together for quite sometime and had gotten alone just fine. Sure, they had disagreements here and there, but that wasn't enough for them to need more training, was it?

"We've been officially working together for a long time. Why do we need teamwork training now?" Robin asked, being brave enough to talk to the well feared vigilante that many were fearful to speak against.

Batman said nothing as he scrolled through the tablet in hand, obviously searching for something.

"Because you still have problems with your teamwork. You need the help of another team your age to get a better view point of what you're doing wrong. And hopefully you'll be able to learn about the different type of enemies

"Wait, wait, wait! Our age? You mean there's another team that we didn't know about?" Kid Flash asked, the news obviously being a surprise to him.

This news was a surprise to everyone in the group. All of them thought that they were the only young heroes that worked under the Justice League.

Finding what he was looking for, Batman opened a file and the team looked at the large photo that appeared on the screen. The photo contained four teens, just around their age if not older or younger.

One was a black teen with a red beanie, and Robin was surprised to see the bulky tech in his hands that he was using. What kind of outdated tech was this team using?

Next to him was a goth looking girl with raven black hair wearing a black short with a black and green plaid skirt. Her face was concentrated into a stern glare that gave Wally the shivers. The gun that she held in her hand didn't help either.

There was another girl as well. Her black hair down and resting against her shoulders. Said shoulders and the rest of her body covered by a black and red suit with a hoverboard against her feet and another strange weapon in her hand. A gun maybe? Red Arrow was curious to see her aim when moving on that board.

And the last kid wasn't standing. He was floating. With snow white hair and green eyes that seemed to glow everytime they looked at the photo. He looked to be around the same age as the other three, but he wore a black jumpsuit with white boots, gloves, and belt. On his belt rested a thermos? Superboy didn't see how such a scrawny thing could be of any threat.

One thing was similar was that how all of the humans eyes seemed to glow. Almost as bright as the- metas'? Aliens? -did.

"These are the members of Young Justice: Dark. They have been under the Leagues employment for three months, but they've been working on their own for almost two years and managed to stop several world ending disasters dealing with the supernatural."

The statement from Batman shocked the team. Them? On their own for two years fighting against the supernatural? Surely he was joking?!

"But-how? We've never heard of them, and they were world ending, we should've known about it." Robin argued.

"Because they've never left the threats leave their town." Came Batmans clipped reply. "There have been a few close calls, but all of them have been handled. As for why the League wasn't aware, there was interference that stopped the League from knowing about Amity Park. This is the team that took our place."

This was the team? Two years unsupervised against supernatural threats that they didn't know about and they still remained uncovered? Just how strong was this team?

"I'm assigning your next mission to work under them. For the time being they will be your superiors and you will follow their instructions if you come into contact with any enemy. Do not go against their orders or else it will be dire. With this, you will learn about threats stronger than you have faced and better yourselves as a team. Do not mess this up."

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[lambandthewolf]

nothing's more thrilling than eating her out while she's on the phone with her friend.

the desire coursing through both of you when the phone first starts ringing. when she sees the mischievous glint in your eye and gives you a stern look before picking up the call. not one to be told what to do, you start nipping the skin between her thighs and watch as her hips immediately jerk at the contact.

she mouths a quick stop and turns her attention back to the phone call. this only fuels your defiance more as you start licking broad strokes to her cunt, making sure to avoid her clit. at this point, you hear her friend's hello, you still there? on the other line as she's met with your girlfriend's silence.

her head is thrown back and there's a hand gripped in your hair in conflict—wondering whether to press your face in closer to her pussy or push you away. you continue your teasing while absentmindedly waving a hand, urging her to keep talking.

a smile breaks against your lips while your face is deep in her folds, hearing her struggle to get a coherent sentence out. it's at that moment you decide to finally give her aching clit the attention it's been craving. she let's out a shaky fuck with a moan and the last thing you hear is a "what the fuck? are you guys—" before she ends the call. you expected immediate reprimanding but glance up to see closed eyes and hips bucking at whatever contact they can find. you decide to give in and add a finger and watch as she crumbles against you.

her moans fill the room as her hand reaches down for your hair once more. you come up for air to guide her, that's it, princess, just like that. that's all it takes for her go slack against your mouth. you moan as you lap up her juices and savor her sweet taste. she whimpers from the loss when you remove your finger and you watch as her cunt still twitches from the aftershocks of her orgasm. you kiss your way back up to her lips and sigh at the tender touch, but your contentful bliss is broken by a whisper in your ear.

i'll get you back for this

[rafecameronssl4t]

Bringing another girl home || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Rafe pranking his family by saying he’s bringing another girl home 🫢

Warnings: mentions of drugs, fluff? other than that nothing!!

Word count: 877

A/n: hehehe loved this. does anyone have any dad!rafe requests??? haven’t wrote one in a hot min

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“That’s so cruel, Rafe,” you say with a playful edge, delivering a light slap to his shoulder. He bursts into laughter, his wide grin never wavering. “It’ll be funny, you’ve got to admit,” he says, nudging you with a glint of mischief in his eye. You roll your eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “Fine, it would be pretty funny,” you concede, chuckling despite yourself.

Rafe’s plan to prank his family by claiming he’s bringing home a girl—who isn’t you, his girlfriend of four years—sounds completely bonkers. Yet, the thought of how Rafe’s family will react had you intrigued. You lean over to set your glass down, asking, “Are they all home?”

Rafe hums thoughtfully, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Rose’s number. You sit up, facing him as he tries to hide his grin, pressing the call button. After a few rings, Rose answers, “Hello?”

“Hey Rose, what’s up?” Rafe says with a casual tone. “Just got back from picking up Wheezie. Are you guys out on the water yet?” Rose asks. You exchange a nervous glance with Rafe, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re out here. Y/n’s just taking a nap right now,” Rafe replies smoothly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Rose’s tone shifts to one of concern. “She did seem tired today. Have you told her to take it easy with work? I know she’s been working hard for her boss—”

“Yeah, yeah, listen,” Rafe interrupts, “Could you do me a favor and take Y/n’s stuff out of my room?”You slap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. “What?” Rose’s voice is tinged with confusion. “What do you mean—“

“Well, at least the stuff lying around and the pictures,” Rafe continues, muting himself briefly as he suppresses his laughter. Rose’s confusion turns to frustration. “Rafe, what are you talking about? Take Y/n’s things out of your room and get rid of the pictures—what’s going on?”

You hear rustling in the background and a faint voice that you recognize as Wheezie’s. “What happened?” Wheezie’s voice is concerned. “Your brother is acting very strange right now,” Rose responds, her voice growing more exasperated.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Rose’s tone is incredulous. “I’m bringing a girl over,” Rafe says nonchalantly, and you struggle to keep a straight face. There a brief pause on the other line.

“What girl? I hope this girl is Y/n, your girlfriend, Rafe!” Rose speaks up, her voice now angry. You hear Sarah’s voice join the conversation. “What is going on?”

“Your sisters are here. Tell them what you just told me to do,” Rose says, her frustration evident. You and Rafe exchange worried glances, realizing the prank is escalating.

“Uh, I want all of Y/n’s things out of my room and the pictures as well,” Rafe repeats. The silence on the other end is thick with disbelief. You quickly take Rafe’s phone and mute it, both of you breaking into laughter.

“What the hell, Rafe? Who is this girl? Do I know her? Why are you bringing her home? Are you out of your mind?” Sarah’s barrage of questions makes it hard for you to keep a straight face.

“This has to be a joke, right? Y/n’s right beside you, isn’t she?” Wheezie’s voice is tinged with suspicion.“She’s not, she’s asleep,” Rafe replies. You hear a flurry of voices in the background as Rose, Wheezie, and Sarah talk urgently.

Then Wheezie’s voice rises, “Dad! Come here and tell your son he’s an absolute idiot and loser for cheating on Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the mention of Ward. “What?” His voice is loud and filled with anger as he joins the call.

“Rafe, please tell me your sister is just joking and you’re not about to fuck up your life,” Ward’s stern voice cuts through. You grab the phone again, muting it. “This is going too far, Rafe,” you say, worry creeping into your voice. Rafe snatches the phone back, a mischievous grin on his face.

“What do you mean? It’s just getting started,” he says, unmuting the phone. “No, they’re not, Dad. I’m being serious. Can you guys just do this for me? She’ll be over for dinner too,” Rafe continues, as Rose gasps in the background.

“No way in hell am I letting—” Rose begins, but Ward cuts her off. “Son, you better think long and hard about this because you will not be welcomed home, alright? I don’t know what drugs you are on right now and I couldn’t give two shits about it, but you are not bringing another girl over here other than Y/n, you’re girlfriend, for heaven’s sake! Do you understand?” Ward’s voice is stern and unwavering.

You and Rafe are taken aback slightly by the intensity of the reactions on the other end of the line. Realising the prank might have gone too far, you quickly grab the phone.

“Uh—” you cut Rafe off, your voice steadying as you say, “Guys, he’s just kidding! I’m right here beside him!” The relief is palpable as you hear them all collectively sigh on the other end.

After a few more minutes of the Camerons giving you both a hard time about how the joke was way out of line, you finally hang up the phone. Rafe pulls you close, guiding you to lean against his chest. His arms envelop you in a warm, reassuring hug.

“My family just loves you, don’t they?” he says with a smirk, his voice full of playful sarcasm. You look up at him, laughing softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love from his family. Even with all the chaos, you can’t help but feel good knowing they care so much about you.

[seungfl0wer]

*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you “miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[goldfades]

LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW (part 2)

part one!!

for this request!!

─ summary | a week after megan caught you and father charlie, higher-ranking members of the church summon both of you for a stern warning. they threaten severe consequences—not just losing your positions, but eternal damnation—if you don't end your affair, and though you try to stay composed, charlie's anger flares as he refuses to accept their condemnation

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 5.3k

─ warnings | pretty angsty + dramatic but has a happy ending, forbidden love, descriptions of having a big family. also wanted to put out there that this in no way shape or form trying to depict the church as something bad, every church is different and this is just fictional and very self-indulgent.

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! this was super self indulgent and i swear i say that every time but it's true. the happy ending was sorta like... my happy ending LMAO but i just wanted them to end up together. this was super fast paced (ik... 5k words and """fast paced""") but if u read it, you'll know what i mean.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Father Charlie’s face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as the weight of what just happened begins to settle between you. The churchyard, once a sanctuary, now feels like a trap. You stand there, unable to move, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Megan—” you try to call out, your voice catching in your throat, but she’s already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the church.

Father Charlie turns to you, his hand trembling as he runs it through his hair. “This… this can’t get out. It’ll ruin everything,” he says, his voice breaking under the pressure. He paces, eyes darting toward the church doors as if expecting Megan to reappear any moment with a crowd of witnesses.

Your chest tightens. You know what’s at stake—the life you’ve both built within the church, the delicate balance of your roles, the unspoken rules you’ve crossed. There’s no undoing what’s been done.

“I didn’t mean—” you begin, but he cuts you off, stepping closer, his hands gripping your arms with desperate intensity.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice urgent. “I should have never let it get this far. But Megan… she can’t know. No one can know.”

You nod, but the truth gnaws at you. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness. The kiss—the feelings behind it—have been building for longer than you want to admit. And now that the barrier has been broken, there’s no pretending you can go back to how things were.

“What if she tells?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Father Charlie’s eyes meet yours, his face full of guilt and something else, something darker—a simmering fear. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this, so cornered, so desperate. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve unleashed something in him that can’t be controlled.

“I have to fix this,” he mutters more to himself than to you, already starting to move toward the church, determination in his stride. “Go home. Don’t come back until I say it’s safe.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no room for discussion. The weight of your guilt, mingled with fear, presses heavy on your chest as you turn and leave, knowing that the fragile world you both clung to is about to shatter.

As you walk away from the church, the echoes of the kiss linger on your lips, but now they taste bitter—haunted by the knowledge that you’ve crossed a line you can never uncross. And Megan, with her watchful eyes, has seen it all.

The walk from the church feels impossibly long, every step weighed down by the suffocating pressure of what’s just transpired. The once-bright sky has dimmed into muted shades of twilight, the air thick with impending doom. You can feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The churchyard, so familiar and comforting just moments ago, now seems cold, distant—like it’s pushing you away.

You glance back once, just once, and catch sight of Charlie disappearing into the stone walls of the church. His movements are hurried, frantic, and it only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You know he’s going to confront Megan. You know he’ll do everything in his power to convince her to stay silent, to protect both of you, but the seed of doubt has already taken root. What if she doesn’t listen? What if Megan has already spread word of what she saw?

The fear claws at your insides.

You replay the moment over and over in your mind—the kiss, the way his lips had pressed against yours with a hunger that had long been suppressed, the heat of his body against yours. It was more than a moment of weakness; it was the culmination of everything you had been hiding, everything you’d tried to bury under the weight of duty. You had always known there was something between you and Charlie, but you had told yourself it was nothing, that it could never be anything more than unspoken glances and the occasional brush of hands. But now, the truth is undeniable.

You love him.

And it terrifies you.

As you turn the corner, moving further away from the church and deeper into the quiet streets, you try to suppress the panic building inside you. You force yourself to breathe, slow and steady, even as the thought of what comes next twists and knots in your chest. Megan… she had seen everything. Her eyes, wide with shock and something close to betrayal, flashed in your mind like a warning. She would never understand. She couldn’t. To her, this wasn’t just a mistake or a lapse in judgment—it was blasphemy, a defilement of everything sacred.

You walk faster, as if the distance could somehow cleanse you of what just happened, but the weight of your sins follows you, heavy and unrelenting. By the time you reach your small, modest home, the last of the daylight is gone. The darkness feels fitting, like a cloak draped over the truth you’re so desperate to hide.

You fumble with the key, your hands trembling, and push open the door. Inside, the space feels too small, too confining. The walls close in around you, suffocating in their familiarity. You collapse onto the nearest chair, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what comes next.

You think of Megan again, the way she had slipped away so quickly, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. What had she seen? How much had she heard? Would she go to the elders? To the congregation? Your stomach churns at the thought of everyone knowing, their judgmental eyes stripping you bare, seeing you for what you truly are—a sinner. You can already picture the looks, the whispers that would follow, the way they’d turn on you. And Charlie—God, what would happen to him? His role as a priest, his entire life, would be torn apart if this got out.

You can’t let that happen.

But no matter how much you try to focus, your thoughts keep pulling back to him. To the way he looked at you in those moments after Megan had fled. His face, pale with fear, but his eyes… they had been filled with something more than just panic. There had been a tenderness there, a quiet desperation, as if he had wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words had been lost in the gravity of the situation. And now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, one that neither of you can cross until you know what Megan will do.

The hours stretch on in painful silence. You sit by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with dread. Every sound, every rustle of wind, makes you jump, half-expecting someone to come knocking at your door, to drag you back to the church and expose your sin to the world. But no one comes. The night is as still as your breath, suspended in an unbearable waiting.

You wonder how Charlie is faring. Is he talking to Megan right now? Is he pleading with her, trying to make her understand? Or is it too late—has she already made up her mind? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each minute that passes feeling like an eternity.

The quiet is suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door. You freeze, your heart stopping for a beat, your blood running cold. For a moment, you can’t move, can’t breathe. Then, slowly, you rise from the chair, your body moving on instinct. You approach the door with trembling hands, every step echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the house.

When you open it, Charlie stands on the other side.

His face is pale, his eyes dark and sunken, as though he’s aged years in the span of a few hours. His expression is grim, but beneath the weariness, there’s something else—something raw, something desperate. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him, and the weight of everything that’s happened settles between you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. His hands are shaking, and you notice the way he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself. “She’s not going to tell anyone,” he finally says, but his voice is hollow, and you know that’s not the whole story.

You take a step closer, searching his face for answers. “What did you say to her?”

Charlie’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something dark in them—something you haven’t seen before. “I made sure she understood,” he says, but there’s no relief in his voice. No victory. Only guilt.

Your stomach tightens as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to trust that everything will be okay now, but the look in his eyes tells you that nothing will ever be the same. Not between you. Not between him and the church. And certainly not between him and Megan.

The silence stretches on, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, and you realize that whatever you thought you were protecting has already been lost. The kiss, the secret moments, the connection between you and Charlie—it’s all unraveling, piece by piece, and there’s no going back now.

You don’t know what he did. And you’re not sure you want to.

All you know is that something has shifted between you, and the fragile world you’ve built together is starting to crack.

“I… I couldn’t let her ruin this,” he says, his voice low and almost pleading. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s a rawness to his words, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen in him before, and it makes the knot in your throat tighten. “Charlie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No,” he says, his voice firmer now, more certain. “You need to hear this. I love you.” The words hang between you, heavy and full of meaning. His eyes search yours, as though he’s terrified of what your response might be, but at the same time, there’s a conviction in him that tells you he’s been holding onto this for far too long.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world falls away. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt—it all fades into the background, and all that’s left is the truth. He loves you.

And God help you, you love him too.

“I love you, too,” you finally say, the words slipping out in a rush, like a dam breaking. The weight of them is staggering, but also freeing, as though admitting it has somehow lifted the burden from your chest.

Charlie’s eyes soften, and in that moment, the darkness, the fear, everything that’s been hanging over you both seems to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, stolen moment.

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your temple, and finally, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s tender, sweet, and laced with the kind of love that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. For a few precious seconds, you allow yourself to get lost in him—the warmth of his body, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and precious. There’s no guilt in this kiss, no shame. Just love.

But as sweet as it is, there’s still a bitter edge, the reminder of what’s been lost. The weight of what happened earlier, of Megan’s watchful eyes, lingers like a shadow over your joy. You pull back slightly, your heart aching as you search his face for reassurance.

“What are we going to do?” you ask, the question heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Charlie lets out a soft sigh, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The simplicity of his words settles over you, warm and comforting, but the reality of the situation isn’t so easily dismissed. You know the risks, the consequences that loom over both of you like a dark cloud, but right now, in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it feels like you can face anything.

He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the closeness, the peace that you’ve found in each other, if only for this fleeting moment. “I don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of happiness and sorrow, because you know that this love—the love you’ve both fought so hard to deny—is as beautiful as it is dangerous. The church, the life you’ve built, the faith that has defined you for so long—it all stands in opposition to what you feel for each other. And yet, here you are, standing on the precipice, ready to fall.

“I’m scared,” you admit softly, your voice trembling.

Charlie pulls you tighter against him, his breath warm against your skin. “So am I,” he confesses, his voice breaking just a little. “But I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet, in the shared heartbeat that thumps in time with your own. For once, it feels like you’re not fighting against the world, but standing together, ready to face whatever comes next.

But the bitterness still lingers, a quiet reminder that nothing about this is simple. The danger hasn’t passed, and Megan’s silence, though promised, may not last forever. You both know that this moment—this love—comes with a cost.

Still, for now, you allow yourself to hold on to the sweetness of it, to the warmth of his embrace, and the knowledge that whatever happens next, you won’t face it alone.

───

The bells toll, echoing through the towering walls of the old church, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. Parishioners, still murmuring prayers under their breath, make their way toward the grand double doors, their heads dipped in reverence. The air is thick with incense, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax, and the murmured conversations of the faithful filter out as they depart.

You stand by the altar, adjusting your habit, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over you. It had been a week since the kiss—since Megan’s eyes had caught the forbidden moment. You and Father Charlie had been careful, the tension between you palpable but unspoken. There was no room for slip-ups now, not with what was at stake.

But just as you turn to head back toward the sacristy, you notice something that sends a chill through you. A group of clergy—men dressed in higher clerical vestments, their expressions stern and unyielding—are making their way toward the two of you. The archbishop, Father Lucian, leads them, his presence commanding and severe, a man of high standing in the church, second only to the bishop himself. Behind him are two more senior priests, Father Augustine and Monsignor Ramos, known for their strict adherence to church doctrine.

Charlie stands frozen for a moment, his usual calm demeanor stiffening as he recognizes the gravity of what’s about to happen. His eyes meet yours briefly, and in that split second, you both know. They know.

Father Lucian stops in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is impassive, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating, filled with judgment and a quiet, simmering disappointment. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until finally, he speaks.

“Father Charles,” Lucian’s voice is deep and resonant, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Mother Y/N. We need to speak.”

Charlie straightens, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn way, but his eyes flicker with something darker—anger, perhaps, or fear. You step closer to him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ve been made aware of certain… transgressions,” Father Lucian continues, his voice cold, deliberate. “Ones that go against the very foundation of your vows—vows of purity, of dedication to God and His teachings.”

Father Charlie’s hands tighten into fists at his sides, though he doesn’t say anything yet. His silence, however, feels like the calm before a storm.

“We’ve heard unsettling rumors,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice carrying a softer, but no less menacing tone. “Of inappropriate closeness between the two of you. Intimacies that have no place within these sacred walls.”

Your stomach drops, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. The weight of their accusation presses against your chest, suffocating.

Father Augustine steps forward, his eyes sharp with accusation. “You both took vows before God,” he says, his voice unwavering. “To forsake earthly temptations for a higher calling. But what we’ve witnessed… it is not the first time such weakness has crept into the church. We cannot allow it to continue.”

You want to speak, to defend yourself, but your throat tightens, and words fail you. Beside you, Charlie’s breathing grows heavier, his anger barely contained.

“If you do not end this… affair immediately,” Father Lucian says, his voice dropping, “there will be consequences far worse than dismissal. You will not only lose your positions here, but you will face the eternal damnation of your souls. Your actions are not just a violation of church law but of God’s law. Do you understand?”

The implications hit you like a blow—hell. They’re threatening you with eternal punishment.

Father Charlie, who had remained silent until now, suddenly takes a step forward, his voice trembling with anger. “And who are you,” he says, his voice low but dangerous, “to tell us about the state of our souls?”

The senior clergy exchange glances, surprised at his defiance. But Charlie continues, his voice growing stronger. “Yes, we broke our vows. But this—what we feel—it's not some… sinful temptation. It’s love. And I won’t stand here and let you condemn us without knowing what’s in our hearts.”

Father Lucian’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the tension is palpable. “Father Charles, you forget your place,” he says coldly. “This is not a matter of love. It is a matter of duty. Of obedience. You swore your life to God, not to your desires.”

“I didn’t swear my life to a prison,” Charlie snaps, his voice shaking with fury. “I swore my life to serve God, to care for people. But you—you’d rather see us as sinners than as human beings.”

“Father Charles,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice hardening, “you are speaking out of turn.”

“No,” Charlie interrupts, turning to you, his hand reaching for yours without hesitation. “I’m speaking the truth. I won’t let you use God as a weapon to control us.”

Your hand grips his tightly, and despite the cold sweat trickling down your spine, you feel an odd sense of strength radiating from him. The threat of hellfire lingers in the air, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel so terrifying with him standing beside you.

Father Lucian’s gaze hardens, his lips thinning into a severe line. “This is your final warning. End this now, or face the consequences.”

Charlie stares back at him, unwavering. “I’d rather face hell,” he says softly, “than live a lie.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words hanging between you and the clergy like a challenge. They stand, frozen for a moment, taken aback by his refusal. The unspoken threat remains—hell, ruin, the dismantling of everything you’ve both worked for.

But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel afraid. You look at Charlie, his face set in defiance, and something inside you shifts. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, but it’s also the beginning of something else—something true, something worth fighting for.

The silence stretches unbearably in the cold churchyard, the tension thick as a storm building on the horizon. The senior clergy stare at Charlie, their expressions hard, almost disbelieving that he’s standing against them. Father Lucian’s eyes narrow further, but his voice remains steady, with a chilling authority.

“You are not beyond redemption,” he says, the words deliberate, cutting. “But defiance will not save you from the consequences of your actions. Think carefully before you decide to sacrifice everything—your calling, your salvation—for something so… fleeting.”

Charlie’s grip tightens around your hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His next words, however quiet, carry an unshakable resolve. “I’ve already decided. I won’t live a life of half-truths. If that’s what it takes to serve God here, then I’ll find my own way.”

Father Augustine inhales sharply, looking between you and Charlie with something resembling disappointment—or perhaps disdain. “This will not go unpunished,” he mutters, his tone cold and unyielding. “There are consequences for every action, Father Charles. You’ve been warned.”

Without another word, the three clergymen turn on their heels and leave, their footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor of the church. The weight of their warning lingers, even after they disappear into the distance.

You and Charlie stand there, unmoving, his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. The tension in his body slowly ebbs, though his grip remains firm, as if he’s grounding himself in this moment, in you. The sky above is clear, but there’s a storm brewing, one you can’t ignore any longer.

“Charlie…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustling of leaves in the courtyard. “What are we going to do?”

He exhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he turns to face you fully. His eyes search yours, filled with the same mixture of love and uncertainty that’s been building between you since that night in the church. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now, the fire from before replaced with a gentle resignation. “But I know I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You feel the same pull in your chest, the same conflicted desire that’s been tearing you apart. Everything you’ve built within the church, every vow you’ve taken—it’s all crumbling around you. But Charlie… he’s the one thing that still feels real, the one person you’ve come to rely on, to love in ways you never expected.

“I can’t lose you either,” you admit, your throat tight, emotions swirling in a confusing blur. “But they’re right… If we keep going like this, it won’t just be losing our positions. It’ll be worse.”

Charlie’s gaze darkens for a moment, as if weighing the enormity of it all. He steps closer, lifting his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a tender, almost reverent motion. “I know the risks,” he says, his voice steady, filled with an unshakable determination. “But the risk of not having you in my life… that’s worse.”

You close your eyes at his touch, leaning into the warmth of his hand. His words wrap around your heart, pulling you closer to the edge of something you can’t take back.

───

The decision had been made in a heartbeat, almost too quickly for either of you to process. One moment, you were standing in the courtyard, exchanging quiet promises of love and loyalty; the next, you were both packing your modest belongings in a small room that had been your sanctuary for years.

Charlie’s movements were hurried but deliberate, his usual calm demeanor now laced with an urgency that mirrored your own. You threw robes and personal items into a small bag, your heart pounding as the reality of your situation sank in.

“We can’t stay here,” he had said, his voice shaking with conviction. “Not after that. If we don’t leave now, they’ll find a way to tear us apart.”

You agreed, knowing deep down that the church, once a symbol of comfort and belonging, had become a prison. It wasn’t just Megan’s spying or the warnings from the senior clergy—it was everything. The suffocating weight of the vows, the whispered rumors, the constant feeling of being watched. You couldn’t breathe here anymore.

The room, usually filled with quiet prayer and reflection, was now buzzing with the frantic energy of departure. Charlie stopped for a moment, watching you from across the room. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you had rarely seen before. He came closer, brushing his hand across your cheek, tilting your chin so that you met his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “We’re leaving everything behind.”

You nodded, heart pounding, but with a certainty that surprised even you. “I’m sure. I can’t stay here, Charlie. Not without you. Not like this.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment, as if holding on to this fragile piece of certainty before everything crumbled.

“We’ll be alright,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

You smiled, a bittersweet knot forming in your chest. The thought of leaving everything you’d known was terrifying—but the thought of staying, of pretending, of hiding this love… that was worse.

A knock at the door startled you both, and your heart leapt in your chest. You turned to the door, half expecting to see Father Lucian or another member of the clergy, ready to drag you back into the suffocating confines of the church’s judgment.

But it was Megan.

Her eyes were wide, but there was something softer in her gaze now—something you hadn’t seen before. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand lingering on the knob as she looked between you and Charlie.

“I—I heard,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving?”

Charlie tensed beside you, but you took a step forward, your heart racing. “Megan… I know what you saw. I know what you think, but—”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “No. It’s not that. I—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath, glancing at Charlie before continuing. “I’m not here to stop you. I just… I just wanted to say I understand. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why you’re doing this.”

You blinked, taken aback. Megan, the one who had spied on you, who had been so suspicious of your every move, was standing here, offering understanding. It felt surreal.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she added softly. “But if you’re really leaving, you need to go now. They’ll come looking for you.”

Charlie’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You felt a rush of gratitude toward Megan, despite everything that had happened between you. Her warning, her silence—it was an unexpected act of kindness.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy with meaning.

She nodded once, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You turned to Charlie, your breath catching in your throat. “It’s time.”

He nodded, his jaw set, determination burning in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Together, you walked out of the room, leaving behind the life you had known, the vows you had once believed in, and the future you had thought was certain. The church, once towering and holy, now felt like a distant memory as you stepped into the world beyond its gates.

You didn’t know what would come next—where you would go or what you would do—but with Charlie by your side, the fear didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. You had each other. And for now, that was enough.

EPILOGUE

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and fields that stretched beyond your front porch. The house you now called home sat nestled against a small grove of trees, a place you’d never imagined, yet somehow felt destined to find.

A soft breeze rustled through the open windows, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing in the yard. You smiled, leaning against the wooden railing as you watched them—a picture of the life you had once dreamed of, now fully realized.

Two little girls, their dark curls bouncing in the breeze, were chasing after their younger brother, their giggles filling the air. They were so full of energy, so full of life. The kind of life you had longed for back when everything felt so suffocating, back when the idea of having a family seemed distant and impossible.

Behind you, the front door creaked open, and Charlie stepped out, two mugs of tea in his hands. His face, though older and more weathered now, still held that same softness that had always drawn you to him. He passed you a cup and wrapped an arm around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before you.

You smiled, leaning into him, your heart swelling with contentment. This was the dream you had once shared with him, whispered between kisses when the future seemed so uncertain. But now, here it was—tangible, real. Your two daughters, as spirited and wild as you had imagined, and your son, a bundle of mischief with Charlie’s inquisitive nature.

You stood there in comfortable silence, watching as your eldest, a curious seven-year-old, tried to corral her younger siblings with all the seriousness of someone far beyond her years. The younger girl, barely five, kept bursting into fits of giggles, while your three-year-old son—always a handful—tumbled into the grass, quickly distracted by the dogs.

It was a far cry from the life you had left behind, from the cold stone walls of the church and the whispers of judgment. You had built this life together—away from the suffocating expectations, the prying eyes, and the fear. Out here, in this open space, you were free to be who you truly were, without shame, without fear of punishment.

Charlie turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re happy?”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “I am,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I really am.”

He smiled, his eyes softening in the way they always did when he looked at you—filled with a love that had only grown stronger over the years. You still had your moments of doubt, of course—those nights when the past crept in, when the memory of everything you’d left behind tugged at your mind. But then you would look at him, at the children you had brought into the world, and it would all disappear.

Charlie pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the children’s laughter echoed through the evening air. The weight of the past had faded into something distant, something that didn’t define you anymore.

This was your future now—a family, a home filled with love and laughter. You had chosen this life, together, and it was better than any dream you had ever dared to hope for.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, your eldest daughter ran up to you, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama! Look what we found!”

She held up a small flower she had picked from the yard, and you crouched down to examine it, your heart swelling with pride at her joy over such a simple thing.

“It’s beautiful,” you told her, smoothing back a stray curl from her face.

She beamed, darting off again to join her siblings, and you stood back up, feeling Charlie’s presence beside you, steady and strong.

“Two daughters, a son, and two dogs,” he repeated softly, his voice filled with that same awe he always carried when he talked about your family. “You’ve always had the best dreams.”

You leaned into him, your fingers intertwined, as the last light of the day faded. “And you’ve always made them come true.”

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[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 7

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 8 is here!

"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.

You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.

No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?

No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.

You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.

"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."

"What? No. I'm coming with."

"Have you lost your mind?"

You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.

"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."

"But I-"

"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.

Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.

"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.

"I want Isabella."

"No."

"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"

"No."

"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"

"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.

"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"

"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."

-

"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.

"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.

"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.

"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."

Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"

You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."

-

Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.

"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"

"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."

"We can have it fetched-"

"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.

"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.

"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."

"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.

He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."

"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.

"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.

Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.

"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"

"Anything?"

"Anything." He assured her.

"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.

"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.

Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.

You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.

The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.

"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."

"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-

He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.

"Well? Hand it over."

"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.

Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.

"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.

Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.

"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"

You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.

It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-

"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-

A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.

You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.

Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.

Assassin.

"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.

The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.

"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.

The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.

"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.

As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.

You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.

Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.

Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.

And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-

You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.

You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.

The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.

You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.

Maybe you could bribe him?

"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.

You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."

He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.

He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.

"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.

"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.

-

Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.

Salauddin heard them before he saw them.

The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.

They're coming.

In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.

But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.

It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.

He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.

Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?

The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.

Do they attack now?

Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.

Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.

Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-

"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.

Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."

Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"

"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"

"Why are you here, Baldwin?"

Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.

"I'm here to meet my fiancee."

Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"

Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."

"Baldwin."

The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"

Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.

"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.

Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.

Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.

-

They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.

But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.

What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.

He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.

Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.

"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.

Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.

Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.

"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.

"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?

"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.

Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"

"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.

Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."

The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.

"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.

"The princess is gone."

There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.

"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.

"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"

The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"

"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.

The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.

Isabella.

"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-

"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.

"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.

"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.

Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.

"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.

"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.

Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"

Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.

"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.

"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?

Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."

-

The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.

Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.

Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.

That cretin was getting on his last nerves.

Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.

Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.

They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.

Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.

"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.

Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.

"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.

After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.

It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.

However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.

Your chaddar, lying on the ground.

-

You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-

You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-

You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!

Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!

"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?

You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.

You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.

You were locked in.

The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-

Abbas.

You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?

You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.

"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.

Wait. Circulation.

You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"

You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.

What in the-

The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?

No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-

NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-

The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.

Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.

Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-

Guy?

All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.

The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?

You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.

"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?

Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-

"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.

"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"

Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.

He thinks you and Abbas-

"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.

"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."

You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.

"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.

"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.

"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"

Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.

"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"

"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"

"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.

"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"

Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?

You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?

Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?

Enough is enough. You need to come clean.

"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."

Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.

"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."

"Lies! There's no proof-"

"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"

"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"

"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"

"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"

Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"

"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.

"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.

"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.

Thud.

You looked down to where the sound came from.

Guy's head dropped in front of you.

Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.

Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.

You could hear the ringing get louder.

Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.

He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.

Your consciousness finally gave out.

Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.

"Baldwin, she didnt-"

"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.

"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.

-

You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-

"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.

"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.

She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.

"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.

"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.

She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"

"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"

You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"

"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"

"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"

She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.

Wait, desert?

"We've left Egypt?"

"Yes-"

She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.

You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.

Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.

It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.

"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-

Or maybe he has decided to torture you.

"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.

Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.

"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.

Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"

"I never doubted you." He cut you off.

Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.

"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."

Your lips parted. What... what was he-

"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.

He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."

You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-

"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"

"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"

"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."

A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.

"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.

"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.

Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.

He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."

Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"

"I love you, Baldwin." You said.

His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"

"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.

Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.

-

Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.

The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.

Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.

And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.

Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.

But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."

"Traitor to the crown?"

He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."

He truly has thought of everything.

-

Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.

After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.

"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.

"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.

You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.

The key.

You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.

You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.

Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.

Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.

You turned to your side and closed your eyes.

Perhaps God saved me.

-

Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.

"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.

"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.

"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-

The ring.

"Its the-"

"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.

"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.

"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.

"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."

"Stressed? By what?" You asked.

"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"

You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."

"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.

"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.

Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.

Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.

You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.

But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.

You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.

Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-

Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-

Wait.

You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.

-

Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.

She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.

"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.

"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"

"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."

Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.

"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"

"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.

She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."

You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"

Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.

"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.

"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"

Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.

"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.

"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).

Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.

"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.

"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"

Isabella looked up, and she smirked.

"You have no proof."

You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.

"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.

She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."

"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"

You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"

"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."

Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"

"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.

"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."

-

Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.

"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.

It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-

The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.

"Baldwin, please give it back-"

"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.

"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.

"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"

Heaven? No fucking way-

"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.

"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"

Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.

Wait.

"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.

Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!

"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"

"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"

"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."

"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"

"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.

"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"

"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"

Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"

"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."

Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."

-

Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.

The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.

You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.

"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.

"No."

He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.

"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.

"No."

"I can help you-"

"No." You sniffled. "No one can."

The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.

"Abbas asked me to give you this."

You opened your palm to see-

A key.

The key!

But how did he make this? You never designed it-

You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.

Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.

"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.

"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"

"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.

"But there is no bathroom here-"

"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."

They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.

You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.

"Where are you going? I'll come with."

You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."

"Y/n-"

"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.

Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-

"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.

It didnt turn on.

No. No. No-

"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.

You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.

"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.

"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"

You banged on the machine, cutting him off.

The machine turned on.

You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"

You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.

The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.

So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.

Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁

PART 8 is here!

[luveline]

Heyyyy can you do a Hotch x reader where readers just kinda been down all day but doesn’t wanna tell Hotch because she’s kinda used to being the badass with all her walls up? And hotch kinda pulls her to the side and forces it out of her 😊😊

thank you for requesting!! fem, 1.2k

Hotch has dark hair. He’s an older guy but he’s yet to grey, hair like the strands are soaked with coal pitch, even darker under the office lights. He braces his hand on the desk and ducks toward Spencer’s computer screen, pointing at a corner with patience. 

“This one,” Hotch says. 

“Why would they organise it like this?” Spencer asks, his voice bordering incredulous. 

“I’m not sure. You’ll remember where this is?” 

“Do you usually have to tell me more than once?” Spencer says lightly. 

“Ask your licence to carry.” 

You’d laugh, his wit quick and poor Spencer a good sport, but your head feels heavy with a forming upset. Like your mind has turned to thick porridge. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t feel angry, more magnificently empty. Nothing is touching beyond your surface level. 

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says. 

You ignore the weight of a gaze on you while you click through your emails, prioritising what needs to be answered before the end of the day, the end of the week, and the end of the month as Hotch taught you to. You double click an email chain from a consult you’d been assigned from out of state and reread your response, nervous that your lack of confidence today might have shone through blunt wording. Hotch is looped into the chain —he can correct any glaring errors should you have made them. 

“Hey,” Hotch says when you don’t look up. He doesn’t use your name, and he doesn’t need to. “I’d like to talk to you. Let’s go up to my office.” 

“Can I have a half hour to work through my emails?” you ask apologetically.

“I’d prefer we talk now. Any overdue reply can be blamed on me,” he says. 

The way he talks is natural to him but perhaps strange if it were another person, with another disposition. You know Hotch to be both gentle and stern at once. His tone leaves little room for debate, but it reassures you to hear the measured cadence of each word without rush. The openness of his expression is similarly comforting, and though he doesn’t know it —you would never own up to feeling this way, verbally or physically— you’d quite like to be comforted by him. Even if he takes you to the office to reprimand you, you’ll at least have been near him for long enough to forget your odd aching. 

Hotch doesn’t walk until you do, taking each step by side until he gets to the office, where he opens the door to encourage you in. 

You drift a few feet inward, shoes soft on clean, crisp carpeting. Hotch closes the door, where he stands momentarily, silence held.

“Everything okay?” you ask. 

Hotch pulls out one of the two black chairs in front of his desk and gestures for you to sit. “Everything’s okay,” he says, standing back to give you space to sit, his hand moving to rest on the back of the chair as you sit. It whines as you shift to see him. “With me, everything’s okay. How about you?” 

“Everything’s fine with me.” 

You’d pad your explanation out if you didn’t think he was about to tell you what you’re in the brig for. No one likes a nervous Nelly. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You glance at his hand behind you and he moves it swiftly. “Hotch?” you ask tentatively. 

“I’ve noticed you aren’t yourself today.” 

“I’m completely myself.” 

“It’s not like you to stare into space.” He frowns. “I want to sit down because I don’t like towering over you, but I don’t want you to internalise this as a meeting.” 

“You’re not towering over me, Hotch.

His frown doesn’t ebb. “…We each have our own unique levy to carry the weight of, I know that. But it’s not… nice, to see you like this. I’d like to know what’s wrong.” 

Again, no nonsense and reassuring at once. 

Maybe he is towering a little. You avert your gaze from his, feeling uncharacteristically meek for a weak moment. 

“I think I woke up mixed up,” you confess eventually, picking at a stray thread on your skirt until the tips of your fingers burn. “Like, nothing happened to upset me, but I…” 

“You do feel upset.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“You’re not sure why?” 

“Not really. I think that–” You lick your lips nervously, not finding the right words, wanting to be vulnerable and simultaneously reluctant to show him anything he might not like. “I think it’s lots of smaller things and they’re layering on top of each other. Do you get that?” 

“All the time. Though usually my way of dealing with it is less pleasant for others.” He looks down at you steadily. “And yours,” —he aims enough fondness at you to stop your heart— “is self-contained. But I don't want you to think you’re walking through life unseen.” 

“Unseen,” you repeat. 

He stands very still. “Can I touch your face?” he asks quietly. 

You don’t know why he’d ask, but you say, “Yes, please.” 

“Please,” he says. You’re repeating each other. The air in the room feels thicker as he lifts his hand to your cheek and cups it gently. “When you’re upset, I notice. I can’t help but notice.” Your face lists into his palm slowly, worried he’ll move, but he holds you and he watches you with care. “Is there anything I can do to make it all feel better?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “No?” 

You close your eyes. “No,” you say, matching his volume. 

“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmurs. 

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you say, asking yourself to move away from his touch, but unable to force it, “I’m gonna…” 

It’s a boundary crossed, but you and Hotch are good at that. He’s constantly treating you with more sweetness than a boss should show toward his employee, and you eat it up despite every instinct in you that says you shouldn’t. So you won’t tell him you’ve had a bad day until he asks, and even then, you have nothing permanent to offer him for fixing, and still he’ll hold your face and make it feel ordinary. Like he’s touched you a hundred times, something about it feels right, and real. Your cheek feels softer under his tracing thumb. You could fall asleep in his hands. 

“How can I make you feel better?” he asks again. 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“But what can I do?” 

You want to ask for a hug, but even the idea of it is too much to think about. Miss Independent admitting she needs more than this? When it’s already more than you should have? 

Profilers profile, and somehow you give yourself away. 

“Come on,” he says softly. 

He hugs you. His hand falls from your face to your shoulder, wrapping behind it, encompassing you in a strong arm as he bends down to embrace you fully. 

“I wish you’d ask for more,” he says, his free arm slinking between your arm and side, hand to your back, encouraging you to hug him back. 

You don’t know what to do with your arms. Each movement feels stilted, but Hotch makes up for it. He hugs you without inhibition, like he’s wanted to do it for a long, long time. 

[prettiedup]

prettiest thing ୨ৎ

prettiest thing pt2 ୨ৎ

you and onyankopon rarely argue. you’re his good girl, you never had a remark or debated with anything he said. he would never tell you anything to hurt you or put you in harm's way which is why you allowed him to be the provider and the thinker of the relationship while you just had to be pretty and spend his money. it’s a dynamic that the both of you liked and preferred. another reason why the dynamic works so well is because onyankopon is naturally dominant, he tends to take over situations without even trying. that goes for both his personal and business life.

you hated when those moments of tranquility between the two of you got interrupted from emotions and overthinking. both you and onyankopon are very secure people, there’s no qualms about attractiveness and if your personalities matched up. but, at the end of day you’re human. and with onyankopon being your first ever serious boyfriend, you sometimes doubted yourself and even worse; him and the relationship. you couldn’t help it! you really couldn’t, you tried to remind yourself that onyankopon has never given you a reason to doubt him but your overthinking didn’t care.

your bottom lip pokes out as your glossy eyes reread the map. onyankopon’s location is nowhere to be found and your man always shares his location with you. most of the time, the roles were reversed and he was very stern about you sharing your location with him 24/7. you couldn’t understand why he’d suddenly stop sharing it with you. your heart thumps heavily in your chest as you instantly start thinking about the worst.

“when’s the last time y’all talked?” zinnia asks. she sits beside you, a look of irritation etched onto her face.

you sniffle as you think back to the last time you talked to onyankopon. he had been driving you home after a long day of running errands. they were more so his errands than yours but you just wanted to be around him so you begged him to let you come with. the day has started off great. the two of you laughed, rapped and sung songs together, the vibes were just right. it was nearing night when onyankopon had gone inside the wingstop to order the two of you food as a completion of the day. while he was inside the restaurant, you were on his phone; scrolling on his facebook. you always claimed his facebook is way more interesting than yours which is why you lurked on people’s accounts through his. as you were reading facebook drama in a very messy comment section, onyankopon’s phone suddenly gets a notification from instagram.

‘you’re welcome handsome’. almost instantly, your hands begin to shake as you press the notification tab. you watch, breathless, as messages pop up from onyankopon and the mystery woman. onyankopon had posted a video of himself on his story. of course he looked good, your man always does. he’s an attractive guy so you had prepared yourself from the beginning to witness women texting and complimenting him. which is fine, but you would've never thought he’d disrespect you by responding back. with a shaky finger, you scrolled to the beginning of the message thread which wasn’t very far.

‘you so fine omggg’ which is something you’ve seen many girls telling him. your eyes focus on what the man had said back,

‘lol preciate it ma 💗’ you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry. ma? a heart? you couldn’t understand why he decided to respond to her in the first place. taking an uneven breath, you locked his phone and threw it down into the cupholder. tears form in your eyes as you stare out of the window, watching as cars of various sizes and colors zoom past the parked car. so many thoughts were racing through your head, you’ve never felt so much betrayal in your life. you sniffle as a few spare tears roll down your face.

when onyankopon returns with two wingstop bags and a holder that had two large cups sitting in it, he’s all smiles. his gold grills glint under the streetlight. he opens the door and sees right away that your attitude has completely changed. he can’t stop the confused expression from forming on his face. he sets the cups into the cupholders and the wingstop bag onto your lap. he doesn’t pull off right away. instead, he sits there for a few moments trying to wreck his brain on what could have possibly gone wrong in the span of about ten minutes.

“what’s wrong, mama?” he asks, cautiously.

you don’t respond, vocally. instead of using your words you just twist your body towards the door and tilt your head completely towards the window. you were so upset with him, just hearing his voice caused you to grow ten times more upset. your sniffles fill the quiet car while onyankopon waits for you to reply to him.

he raises an eyebrow as he comes to the realization that you’re not going to respond to him. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” you were being disrespectful right now and this isn’t like you. he attempts to give you leeway because you have never behaved in such a way before. “talk to me, baby..” he pleads.

and god, when his voice deepens like that and he sounds so needy一you have to remind yourself to stay mad at him. you let out a loud sigh when you decide to look at him.

onyankopon’s heart almost skips a beat when the two of you finally make eye contact and he sees that your eyes are bloodshot red and there are stray tears still threatening to spill. he asks in a tone that shakes, “why you cryin’, mama?”

“c-cause you’re fucking disrespectful.” you cry out. the dam that was straining to hold up broke just by you looking at him.

onyankopon looks at you with wide eyes. he’s never once disrespected you. he’s never called you out of your name, mocked you, spoke condescendingly to you. you two have barely been together for an entire year and he had already gifted you everything and more. he tries to not be offended by your accusation.

“how am i disrespectful?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“how are you not? why the fuck ar-” you’re cut off from onyankopon kissing his teeth.

“stop cursin’, deadass. you can explain yourself without cursin’ like a damn sailor.” his tone doesn't make room for discussion.

you roll your eyes at his statement. onyankopon has always been firm when it comes to your habit of cursing, he always says ‘pretty girls don’t curse’ and tries to catch you every time you let a curse word slip out. right now, you didn’t have the time or patience for his lecturing.

but still, you rephrased yourself. “why are you replying to girls on instagram?” you ask in the most composed manner you can manage.

onyankopon gives you a confused mean mug, “what girls?”

you breath roughly through your nose. “you know what girls, onyankopon.”

onyankopon sighs, “i genuinely don’t, mama.”

you felt like crying from annoyance, why did he feel like now was the time to play? “look on instagram.”

ony grabs his phone and opens instagram. he sees that you had already opened his most recent chat. he reread the messages and viewed the account and quickly realized why you were upset. he stays quiet because he genuinely had no explanation on why he decided to respond to her. of course, he didn’t see her as attractive or anything. he had eyes for you and only you, no other woman could get in between that.

sighing, he set his phone down. he bit down on his lip as he tried to gather the words to tell you. he didn’t compliment her back or completely indulge in her, all he said was that he appreciated the compliment. he didn’t see what was wrong with that.

“look, i know-” he cut himself off as he continued to struggle.

“look at you, fucking struggling to talk cause you know you fucked up.” you spat the words out angrily. your pretty glossy lips are frowned up and onyankopon didn’t like that one bit.

“stop cursin.” he muttered.

“i’m fucking grown, nigga. just like you chose to respond to that bitch, i choose to curse whenever the fuck i want.” you were talking recklessly because you were mad. on an average day, those ugly words would never be spewing from your pretty mouth. also, you would never be talking to your man like this.

“bro chill with yo fuckin’ mouth!” onyankopon ‘s tone rises by a lot. there’s a pointed look in his eyes as he tries to put you in your place.

“me chill? you chill, nigga! fucking disrespectful ass! texting bitches back and calling them ma and shit.. fuck you, nigga!” your voice cracks at the end of your sentence. you weren’t crying out of sadness, you were crying out of anger. truthfully, you wanted to swing off on him but you’ve never thrown a punch in your life and onyankopon would probably choke you the fuck out.

“’m not puttin’ up wit’ dis shit.” onyankopon grumbles. he presses the start button and his car roars to life. “ain’t never called you out yo’ name. ain’t never did shit to hurt you, man. i try to give you the damn world.” your eyes widen when you hear onyankopon’s voice crack throughout his rant, you throw a quick glance at him and have to fight the surprised look on your face when you see his pretty brown eyes glossed over.

you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “texting other girls and calling them ma is giving me the world?” you chuckle sarcastically. “there’s no telling how many girls you entertain behind my back.”

onyankopon shakes his head while listening to you accuse him. “you can go through my entire fuckin’ phone right now and you ain’t gon’ find shit besides that. i ain’t talk to no other girls since i’ve been knowin’ you.”

“i can’t trust anything you say anymore.” you mutter.

“really? i’ve told you shit about me that i ain’t told no one else. shit about my childhood, about my life, how i became me ‘nd now you can’t trust me..” he lets out a breath that resembles a chuckle while shaking his head. “you’re my world, you’re my fresh breath of air from the streets, ‘nd now the reason why i’m going so hard. pickin’ up new clients, ‘nd putting my life at risk so i can buy you shit ‘nd now you’re sayin’ you can’t trust me anymore. alright, bro.”

you don’t say anything, you only turn your head and look out of the passenger seat window for the remainder of the drive.

onyankopon puts the car in park once he arrives in your driveway. you’re quick to hop out grabbing only your purse. you skim the driveway and realize that your parents aren’t home which you’re grateful for. you don’t have time to be bombarded with questions. while you’re unlocking the front door, you could hear onyankopon’s feet traveling behind you. you almost felt bad for leaving him to carry the bags and cups alone but in the moment of anger, you couldn’t care less if he needed help or not.

you open the door wide enough so that the two of you could step in. you kick your shoes off by the front door while he walks into the dining room and sets the food onto the table. the silence between the two of you is tense, you’ve never been so quiet around him and vice versa.

“‘mma go.” onyankopon suddenly says while looking down at his phone. he’s tapping furiously and his eyebrows are clenched in a way that shows annoyance.

“what? what about our food?” you ask with a frown. you go to stand in front of him. his towering height causes butterflies in your stomach whenever you stand near him.

“eat it or somethin’. i don’t care what you do with it.” he shrugs, finally looking away from his phone. you almost want to cry again. you’ve never heard onyankopon be so disinterested with you. he’s usually always so soft and understanding when he’s around you, so to hear him talk to you like you’re some stranger off the street; more than you'd want to admit, hurts your feelings.

“okay..” you sigh, obviously defeated.

usually, when he’s leaving out he’d litter your face and lips with kisses while telling you he’d be back. but this time he only gives you a brief side hug. “i’ll see you around, _.” your heart absolutely hurts when he uses your government name. when you hear the front door slam shut and the loud cranking from his car, you instantly burst into tears.

“three days ago.” you tell zinnia as your sudden flashback leaves your head. just thinking about what happens causes your eyes to go glossy. you’ve been crying ever since he left you standing in your dining room.

“after that incident?” zinnia asks, nosily.

“i messaged him an hour later.” you tell her. “i-i told him i loved him.. and he.. he just left me on read.” your shoulders shake as you clutch your face, you were so tired of crying but you didn’t know what else to do.

“awe, boo..” zinnia says sympathetically. she quickly clutches you into a hug. the smell of her perfume fills your nostrils as you cry onto her.

“i.. should’ve never said anything.. i should’ve j-just pretended i didn’t see it.” you say through sniffles. regret has been lingering on your heart a lot lately. you’ve been filled with should've, could’ve, and would’ves. your life has consisted of moping around the house and crying in bed.

onyankopon wasn’t exactly giving you the reassurance you desperately needed at the moment and it was causing you to absolutely spiral. you just wished he would at least text you a simple ‘i’m not mad at you’ or something of that sort. you’re aware of the type of lifestyle he lives on a day to day basis, you’re always making sure to pray for him asking for him to be protected as he gets his money in the only way he knows how. and for his location to suddenly go off has you on the absolute edge.

“nah, snookie.” the childhood nickname has you momentarily cringing. “you did the right thing by speakin’ up, boo. you seen bullshit so you spoke on it. what he did was that.. uhm.. what they call it…” she pauses and seems to be deep in thought. “ohh! that manipulation shit.”

you instantly sit up from her arms. “nah, zinnia ‘m not getting manipulated.” your soft voice has a defensive edge to it. “he just felt some type of way ‘cause he does so much for me and i called him out of his name and stuff.” you defend onyankopon way too quickly for someone that ghosted you.

zinnia gives you a look that you can’t exactly read. “whatever you say, boo.” she says. it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you from the way she shakes her while saying it.

“can you just..” you sigh out, the way you were feeling over onyankopon was a feeling you have never felt in your life before. it felt as if your heart was tearing into two pieces and no matter how much you tried to take your mind off of him and the situation, it still replays in your head. “can we cuddle?”

“awe, snooks, of course, boo.” she makes quick work of ashing her blunt and shuffling the two of you so that she could hold you comfortably.

the two of you lay there, silently. your head is adjusted onto her chest, the sound of her heart thumping fills your ears as you lose yourself to your thoughts. so many what ifs are running through your head. your overthinking is almost suffocating you in a way. as you lay there, thinking of the worst you try to rationalize and also think of the good. that was a habit you tended to do. you always tried to see the good in people and every situation. because of your optimism, you were often taken advantage of.

you didn’t purposely upset onyankopon. you felt hurt and as a result you felt the need to hurt. if you had known that bringing up the message, you would have never brought it up. you would rather suffer and not speak on it than to fully stop speaking to onyankopon. it was different, going from spending all your time with someone to not talking for three days straight. this being your first ever serious relationship, you didn’t know what to do. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to blow up his phone or give him time to cool off. all you want is to speak with him and hear his voice, to get reassurance that he’s well and alive, to hear him admit that he isn't angry with you.

you don’t realize it but you somehow doze off in zinnia’s embrace. your soft snores fill her ears and she coos out a soft “awee” while rubbing your back. with her being the older cousin and you not having any siblings, she felt as if it is her duty to help you get through your first heartbreak. she’s been through your shoes many times before; overthinking, crying, getting upset, getting manipulated, she’s gone through it all. as much as she wants to just shake your shoulders and scream for you to gain some sense, she won’t. she has to allow you to maneuver through life with firsthand experience, that includes getting your heartbroken.

she’s known onyankopon for many years, since middle school to be exact. she witnessed the man mature and adopt his doggish ways. to her, you’re too naive for ony. since you’re an only child your parents tended to shield you away from just about everything during your childhood and teen years. their overbearingness has rubbed off on you giving you this innocent curious nature. of course, you get upset and curse but every threat you give off is empty. she knows onyankopon, and she knows that he likes girls like you. girls who are easy to manipulate and have access to. she regrets deeply advising you to come to the party with her. if she would’ve let you stay home, you would’ve never met him.

you’re suddenly awakened by a phone buzzing. you yawn and stretch, your eyes dart to your window and you could see the light from the moon peeking through your opened blinds. you rub your eyes and stretch once more before looking at zinnia’s phone that’s ringing on your nightstand. you reach over her and grab it, once you see that it’s sasha you press the answer button.

“hello?” your voice is scratchy from the hours you went without water.

“snookie?” she asks. by her tone you could tell she’s upset and that causes you to fully wake up. an angry sasha is a scary sasha.

“hi, sash. it’s me.”

“hey, boo. where’s zinnia?” she seems impatient, her words are rushed out.

“beside me, sleeping.” your eyes do a once over on zinnia who’s drooling onto your pillow. her chest heaves while heavy breaths escape through her nose.

“yeah, no. wake her up for me.”

“sash, you kno-” you’re cut off by sasha’s loud sighing into the phone.

“snookie, boo, just listen to me. wake zinnia up and put her on the phone.” she says.

without another word, your hand lands onto her side and you begin shaking zinnia awake. after a minute of repeating her name and shaking her, she finally wakes up. a mean mug is immediately on her face as she rises up from her sleeping position. she stretches, letting out a loud dramatic moan.

“whatchu shaking me for?” her tone is hostile. zinnia absolutely hates being woken up which is why you were hesitant from the beginning.

“sasha wants you.” you hand her her phone, watching as she rolls her eyes before speaking up.

“girl, what you want?” her full lips are pulled into a frown as she listens to whatever sasha says. “wait, who’s story?” she asks while opening instagram. she types on her keyboard for a few seconds and then stops. she goes quiet as she watches whatever sasha told her to watch. you could hear multiple voices and the sound of loud music coming from her phone, you curiously lean over to see and that’s when zinnia quickly tilts her phone. she ignores the confused look you throw to her.

“bro.. ’m gonna fuckin’ kill dis nigga.” zinnia says after a few moments of silence. she puts the phone back up to her ear, her hazel eyes dart to you a few times and then they look away. “brooo, we’re about to throw something cute on. come scoop.” at those words, you’re entirely intrigued. you mouth at her ‘what’ and she only shakes her head and ignores you. “yeah, i thought i saw connie’s baldheaded ass in the background. ‘mma get his ass too.”

once zinnia says her goodbyes, she hangs up and lets out a heavy breath. “snookie, y’know i love you right?” she asks, suddenly.

“yeah. i love you too.” you giggle nervously.

“‘nd i just want you to know you don’t need a nigga for shit as long as i’m livin’ and breathin’.” she continues.

“i hear you.” you reply.

“what ‘m about to show you, you gotta practice me you’re not gonna cry.” she negotiates.

“you know ‘m a crybaby!” you groan with a smile. “i promise you i’ll try to not cry.”

she deems that good enough because she’s hesitantly showing you her phone.some might think you’re being dramatic if they were to hear you say you physically felt your heart break. and you could understand, heartbreak is a literary term and not literal one. however, you were experiencing a heartache at that exact moment. gasping was all you could do as your breathing became trapped in your chest. because you couldn't, you didn't cry. in total shock, you were motionless. you could feel zinnia’s arms wrap around you but it’s almost like a barrier was completely stopping her from touching you, or that’s what it felt like anyway.

your eyes rewatch the screen for what felt like the 100th time. your ony is right there, but so is a woman. she’s bent over in front of him, her ass is pressed against his pelvis. she’s shaking her ass to the beat of the song that’s playing and onyankopon’s hands are clutching her wide hips while she twerks. they both have a big smile on their faces while people in the background hype them. you watch in horror as onyankopon brings a hand up only to quickly bring it down onto her ass. as the video comes to an end, the camera darts to connie who’s obviously drunk, hyping them up the most. he’s pouring a half full bottle of hennessy into onyankopon’s mouth while screaming absolute nonsense out.

“we’re going to get dressed and we’re going to that party. we’re gonna whoop onyankopon, that bitch, and connie’s ass.” zinnia says. her tone is serious and the glare in her eyes tell you that she means every word she’s saying.

“there’s no point, zinnia.” you shrug as tears race down your face. “he’s single, he can do whatever he wants.”

zinnia gives you a look of confusion and irritation. “girl, to hell with that. y’all get into one big augment and now he’s moving like this. we’re not letting this shit slide, bro.” her tone excludes any kind of debate.

it doesn’t feel like you’re there physically when zinnia urges you into the bathroom to clean yourself up a little. you’re zoned out the entire time while brushing your teeth and applying light makeup. your eyes stay glossed over but tears don’t fall. your legs shake like jelly, you feel weak; emotionally and physically. you didn’t know where to go from here. all you wanted at the moment was for ony to come over and hold you while kissing your head and promising you everything would be alright like he usually does. the person that hurt you is the person you’re craving the most.

zinnia is sympathetic the entire time the two of you get dressed. you didn’t want to go confront ony, honestly. you just wanted to lay in bed and rot away. the thought of being in an outside setting at this current moment seemed draining. what would you even say to him? there isn’t even anything to say to him.

everything moves too fast and sasha pulls up in front of your house sooner than you wanted her to. an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you look over your outfit. a pink spaghetti strap sleeveless dress hugs your figure, loudly emphasizing every curve you have. you couldn’t even feel pretty if you wanted to, your mind goes back to the woman that was twerking on ony and your heart quivers. the way he grabbed her hips, the same way he did that one night where he had you chanting his name like a prayer. you let out a breath and quickly look away from the mirror.

zinnia leads you through the living room where your mother is sitting in the living room watching judge judy in a nightgown she's had since you were born. meanwhile, your father sits exactly beside her, playing pool on his phone. “ohh, where y’all going?” your mother asks.

you can’t find it in you to talk and zinnia seems to quickly catch on to that. “we’re gonna go pop at this party right quick.” she tells her.

your mother’s eyes dart from your head to your toes. her eyes go back to your face and she can instantly tell something isn’t right with her daughter. she decides she’ll wait until it’s just the two of you to comment on it. “y’all be safe ‘nd stay together. if one has to go to the bathroom, the other follows in tow.” your mother lectures.

you both agree to her words and walk out of the house. you could feel her eyes burning a hole into your back but you refuse to turn around. if you were to break down crying, she would immediately forbid you from going out tonight. that’s one of the difficult parts of being an only child. your parents sometimes get too overbearing without even meaning to. privacy is something you just started getting once you turned 18. you still remember the way your mother almost fainted when the two of you were having girl talk and you had admitted that you and ony had sex for the first time. you still haven’t forgiven her for running back to your father and telling her, he had given you the cold shoulder for two weeks. as much as your parents could be a handful, their intentions were never bad. you’re their only child so they tend to shield you a bit too much because of that.

when you enter the backseat of sash’s pink wrapped dodge charger, the smell of weed immediately hits your nose. your nose scrunches in reflex. you absolutely despise the smell of weed, it’s too strong for your liking.

“wassup, bitches!” sasha greets the two of you. sexyy red plays lowly, she had gotten those overdramatic speakers installed so the bass was almost overpowering.

“pass the blunt, hoe.” zinnia rolls her eyes.

“hi, sasha.” you greet with a slight smile that almost hurts to put on your face.

“you okay, bookie?” she tilts all the way in her seat so that she could make eye contact with you. her almost cracks seeing the redness in your eyes. “we gon’ get shit straight. trust. when i see connie and ony ‘m punching them dead in their shit.”

zinnia quickly agrees as she lights the blunt up. you let out a soft laugh, “y’all there’s no reason to get violent.”

she inhales for a few seconds before letting out a large cloud of smoke. “yeah, okay.” she says sarcastically.

sasha pulls off, the song f my baby dad and instantly sasha turns the music up. both her and zinnia begin screaming the lyrics.

“my nigga actin’ up so you know ‘m finna pop it!” zinnia screams to no one in particular.

“y’all,” sasha turns the music down once she gets to a red light, “me and connie had our first pregnancy scare some weeks ago.”

both you and zinnia shook your heads at her words. you truthfully were surprised that sasha wasn’t on her second child with connie, from the extreme stories she told the two of you about her love life, it’s only a wonder that she isn’t carrying.

“girl! why you shaking your head?! a lil’ birdie told me that ony had to buy your lil ass a plan b!” sasha looks at you through the rearview mirror.

your eyes immediately dart towards zinnia, she’s the only person you disclosed that information to. zinnia quickly turns the music up, pretending she didn’t hear sasha’s accusation.

when sasha parks near the house that’s throwing the party, you feel so afraid that you immediately want to throw up. you were doing good not crying but reality seems to settle in and you realize you’re actually about to confront ony. a lump forms in your throat that you struggle to swallow down. you’re looking out of the window, at the house. you’re so caught up in your head that you don’t realize both zinnia and sasha are looking at you in worry.

you’ve been anxious since a child. you’re the ‘come with me’ friend. it’s something you hated. there’s been numerous times you’ve wished and prayed that anxiety didn’t control your life. you struggled extremely with confrontation. maybe that’s why you and ony got along so well. you never questioned him or any of that sort. you prefer to sit back and watch rather than being in the spotlight, being perceived. that goes for family, friends, and strangers. you weren’t even tearing up from what ony did, while that did have a part in your tears, you were more so dreading the thought of speaking up to him.

“you okay, snookie?” zinnia asks, worriedly.

you inhale sharply, “y-yeah. can we just.. get this over with, please?”

they both share a glance before agreeing. the three of you exit the car, the sounds of purses, bracelets and y’all’s slide sandals sync as you walk towards the house.

“we’re so bad.” sasha sighs while looking over the three of you to make sure you all looked good.

once you enter the house, you’re immediately blinded by flashing lights. the air is hot and humid as numerous people rub against each other. loud speakers blast rap music and you could faintly hear people rapping along with the rapper. alcohol, weed, and sweat fills your nose making you internally gag. this is the second party you’ve ever came to and you want to leave right away. sasha grabs zinnia’s hand, and zinnia grabs your hand. sasha leads you three to the kitchen that’s only filled with a few people. out of the corner of your eye, you could see a couple sloppily making out against the refrigerator.

“here.” sasha hands you a small glass that is filled with something clear. “take a shot or two and loosen up.”

following her instructions, you take two shots straight. bile rises and you have to swallow it causing you to gag. you feel your body shiver as you attempt to digest the alcohol. you take a gulp from the red bull that zinnia gives you, trying to ease the burning sensation in your throat.

“they’re all in the livin’ room, i seen them all huddled up and shit.” sasha comments while holding a cup in her hand.

“les go.” zinnia doesn’t waste any time making her way over to them.

you follow the girls along with legs that feel like jelly. the closer you come to the group, the faster your heart beats inside your chest. when you're just a few steps away, the scent of weed hits you powerfully.

“ohhh!” connie screams once he sees the three of you walk up. “we got zinnia in da housseeeeeee! ohhh shitttt! y’all don’ got itty bitty’s ass to get out of daaa houseeee! whaaaatttt! oh, ‘nd sasha is here too.. i guesssss.” connie is obviously intoxicated as he slurs over his words.

immediately, the rest of the guys' heads snap in y'all's direction. you somehow hear armin let out a “oh lord” once he sees the expressions on sasha and zinnia’s faces.

“connie shut that shit up, boy! what that hell are you screaming for?!” sasha wastes no time grabbing connie by his shirt.

“unhand me you beast!” connie screams dramatically.

sasha rolls her eyes at connie’s antics. her eyes dart from face to face until they land on ony, who’s sitting there manspreading. there’s an uninterested look on his face as he views your trio before his eyes locate onto you and you only. eye contact that you haven’t held in three days. that lazy head tilt and seeing his full lips pressed straight, you have to force yourself to look elsewhere. you refuse to get sucked into his hypnotizing eyes once again.

“you. stand up, i wanna fight.” she tells ony.

ony looks at her boredly, his eyes are glossed and lidded. “sasha, gone somewhere, man.” “beat her ass, ony. ‘m too scared t’do it.” connie says from his grasp in sasha’s hand.

ony's eyes dart over to you. there's a look on his face that makes your knees almost buckle. your heart speeds up in your chest and you can tell from the shift in the atmosphere that something is about to pop off.