#he just wants to get back to the office but the fact that he will be able to do an unreasonable amount of poison damage by endgame

[mariasont]

HI i have an idea and its making me really giddy

ok so reader is a translator for the bau and they’re always reading and translating texts or calls or anything like that. and the reader to spencer is basically like penelope to derek. they flirt all the time and all of those lovely things.. and it’s kinda just where they’re flirting on the phone and morgan teases reid about it and reid gets all flustered

IDK IF IT CAN WORK I JUST LOVE FLUSTERED SPENCER :(

anyway i’ll probably be in your inbox a bunch uhhh so call me h or something

-h

Warm Under the Collar - S.R

summary: spencer insists he is not flirting. morgan insists that spencer absolutely is. one of them is lying. pairings: spencer reid x translator!reader warnings: heavy flirting, pre-relationship mutual pining, verbal sparring as foreplay, workplace hr violations, use of angel wc: 0.6k

“Are you thinking about me, Dr. Reid? Because I’ve been thinking about you.”

Spencer exhales, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt as if loosening it might alleviate the sudden stranglehold of your words. He wasn’t sure if it was always this constricting or if it was conspiring against him at the mere sound of your voice.

He rolls his eyes, performative, really, because you can’t see him, and it’s easier to feign exasperation than admit the effect you have on him. His mouth, however, twitches in betrayal, flirting with a smile before he crushes it. 

The crime board he was supposed to be focusing on, filled with monochrome photos and reports, was now blurring into meaningless scribbles as his thoughts veer off-course, plummeting headfirst into you.

“I’m always thinking about you.”

The words come easily because they require no effort to be true. Always isn’t hyperbole, it’s a mathematical constant, an irrefutable fact.

He was thinking about you before he even called you, felt the shape of you in his mind like an afterimage burned onto his retinas. 

Thought about what color you were wearing, whether your hair was up or down. He wondered if you’d eaten, if you were drinking enough water, if you’d remembered to bring a jacket to the office because the temperature had dropped unexpectedly. 

“Always? Spencer, if you wanted me that bad, all you had to do was say so.”

He isn’t sure why he hesitates — why his brain takes a detour through all the ways he has said so, if not in words, then in the way his thoughts orbit you like a law of nature. 

“I feel like I did say so. Quite literally. But if you’d like me to be more explicit about it, I’m happy to oblige.”

Another pause. He wonders if you’re smiling.

“Mmm, well, I’m certainly not going to stop you.” You sigh, a little dramatic. “Go ahead, be explicit.”

Spencer physically winces at how hot his face gets. The very concept of explicit sits indecently in the pit of his stomach.

“Tempting.” He exhales, rubs a hand down his face, forcibly redirects. “But I do actually have a job to do. And, lucky for me, it just so happens to require your specific set of skills.” 

He leans against the crime board, half-smirking despite himself, because if nothing else, this is fun — the sharp back-and-forth, the way you press all the right buttons just to see what happens.

“I have a recording that needs translating. Think you can focus for long enough to help me, or do I need to, I don’t know, compliment your intelligence first to get you in a professional mindset?”

“Complimenting my intelligence to get what you want? Interesting. Manipulative, even.”

He groans, tilting his head toward the ceiling, appealing to some higher power for patience. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t say I was going to —”

“Too late, you put the idea in my head, and now I expect it. Preferably in an eloquent, well-structured speech. Bonus points if you make it poetic.”

“Or,” he counters, “you could translate the recording first, and I’ll… circle back to stroking your ego at a later, more convenient time.”

A small pause. The kind that feels intentional, like you’re weighing your options.

“I guess that works,” you say. “Send it over, pretty boy.”

Spencer shakes his head, fingers moving on autopilot as he sends the file, because if he thinks too hard about the way you lilted that last pretty boy, he might die. “Alright, thanks. Be good, angel.”

He hangs up, still grinning like an idiot, still entirely too warm under the collar. He exhales, staring at the phone in his hand like it might have the decency to cool him off, maybe undo the physiological mess you’ve left him in.

“If I have to listen to one more of your phone calls with her, I’m sending y’all an invoice.”

Spencer freezes when he sees Morgan standing behind him.

He clears his throat, ignoring the flush he knew was climbing up his neck. “Flirting is an unsubstantiated claim.”

Morgan just stares at him. Stares. “You don’t even believe that.”

Spencer mutters something about professionalism because he’s nothing if not a walking contradiction.

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[rosegolden13]

Hardware store owner!John Price drabble <3

He’s on his smoke break in his office in the back, window open to let in the cool evening breeze and let out the stink of cigar. Store’s been slow today, but that’s no surprise for a random weekday.

Gaz and Soap are messing around out front, their voices carrying into his office from the cracked open door. No doubt they’re playing their makeshift version of floor hockey with a roll of duct tape as a puck and the yard sticks as sticks. Normally, he’d tell them off, but with no customers in, he let them have their fun. It would be closing time soon anyways.

The mechanical ring signalling the arrival of a customer is familiar enough that he tunes it out entirely. It isn’t until that sweet chirping filters through his door that he finds the need to immediately tap out his barely finished cigar, despite the fact that both Gaz and Soap are free to help you. Those muppets don’t know about the leaky sink you’ve been struggling with or the marigolds you’re desperate to help bloom. He needs to be there. It’s only reasonable.

His pace quickens a bit when he hears how your voice seems to be laced with anxiety, words spilling into one another. By the time he gets to the front, Soap has got his palms up, clearly trying to placate you like you’re a spooked horse. 

“Poison?! I-I don’t want to kill them!” You’re wringing your hands, stress palpable, as your bracelets clash against one another on your wrist. And this is what he’s been waiting for since you last came in, another chance to help his favorite girl.

Gaz is moving towards you as if to reach out a hand to place on your arm, but before he can, John’s heavy hand is on your shoulder, standing just behind you. “I’ve got this one, boys. Start cleaning up for me, will ya?”

Gaz and Soap exchange knowing smirks as they head off with a simple “sure thing, cap’n” and a “you got it, Price”. You’re looking up at him and he has to fight back the rush of pride that flows through him when he catches the relief in your expression. 

His thumb absently runs over the fabric of your flowy pink top, feeling your warmth through the thin fabric. “What’s the problem, doll? Never seen ya worked up like this.”

“John, oh, thank God. There’s mice in my attic- a whole family of them. I really wouldn’t mind, but there’s droppings everywhere. Animal control told me to call the exterminator. But I couldn’t live with myself if I had to- They’re only looking for a warm place to stay!” The words are a rush from your glossed lips, his hand rubbing over your shoulder the whole time and then squeezing gently once you’re done. 

God, you’re adorable. This passionate over the lives of a few woodland critters. He’s never flinched at bloodshed, but he’s not one for needless killing either, especially of anything as small and helpless as some mice.

His smile is patient as he looks down at you. “No exterminator necessary. I’ll handle ‘em for ya, lovie. Got a few humane traps I can set up for ya, free of charge. Wouldn’t want ya to get your finger trapped in ‘em.”

Your trust in him is all the payment he needs. Oh, and that sweet smile you give him as you babble happily about how he always knows just what to do. 

—

He follows you back to your place in his pick-up truck.

As you lead him inside, murmuring sheepishly about how it’s a bit of a mess inside, he’s focusing on how your smaller form squeezes in next to his in the tiny entryway, how you put your keys away with a gentle metal clatter, the movements unconscious because you’ve no doubt done them day after day. The intimacy of being in your space gets to his head, filling his mind with thoughts of placing his keys over yours on the little hook. 

You’re leading him upstairs to the attic soon enough. While he busies himself with setting up the traps, you sweep up mouse droppings. Settling into the work, a comfortable silence lingers over you both. John’s taking note of the christmas decorations, old books, and various bins you have stored up here, making a mental reminder to offer to come over if you ever need help getting the boxes down from here. He wouldn’t want you tripping down that rickety ladder leading up here. 

He’s setting down one of the last traps, placing it by a crack between the wall and floor that he wants to offer to fill for you, when you shriek, the sound loud enough to cover up the scurrying claws of the mouse that had just ran right by your sneakers. In an instant, your hands are digging into his hairy arm, clinging to him. 

It takes him a moment, looking between your hands and then your scared expression, before he’s springing into action. “Shh, darl’. It was jus’ a mouse. Can’t hurt ya. I won’t let it.”

He lets you hug his arm, using his free hand to gently rub your other shoulder. There’s a slight heat in his cheeks that he hasn’t felt since he was a teen, that small thrill of being alone in the dark, tucked close to another warm body. One touch from a pretty little thing and the seasoned captain is falling apart.

The moment is broken when you pull away with a sheepish smile. You’re apologizing again and again for getting spooked like that but John’s just watching you with a smile, sneaking glimpses at the crescent shaped divots your manicure left in his arm. He doesn’t want them to fade, mind wandering to how you could tear up his back with those claws.

Once the job is done, you say goodnight to him at the door, the yellow porch light casting a halo over his hair. He promises to come back once any of the traps are filled to bring the mice to a field so they don’t end up back in your attic again. 

And, no, doll, you don’t need to repay him but, how could he ever say no to a homecooked meal sometime?

[gyuuberryy]

pushing on my buttons!

pairing: bodyguard!jay x rich ceo's daughter!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, tension

synopsis: after a kidnapping attempt, your father hires jay, a cold and infuriating bodyguard you can’t seem to get rid of. you push his buttons at every turn, but as danger closes in, the tension between you turns into something far more dangerous—an undeniable connection neither of you can ignore.

warnings: mentions of blood, a bit of fighting, kissing

note: i'm dropping smth two months later finallyy(i'm still in the middle of exams AGAIN). i feel like this is not my best work, i had a major writer's block with it and ended up making it basic? idk i haven't been feeling well recently with the insane amount of workload i have since the start of this year and the burn out shows in this ughh. i hope the fic isn't too bad TT enjoy!

word count 5.8k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the heavy oak doors of your father’s office loomed before you, their polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the hallway chandelier. you paused, your fingers hovering over your phone screen, scrolling through a feed of designer handbags you didn’t need but absolutely wanted. 

the text from your father had been curt, almost ominous: “my office. now.” 

you rolled your eyes. it was probably about the credit card statement again. you had a perfectly good excuse ready—charity auction, obviously. he’d buy it. he always did.

with a sigh, you pushed the doors open, not bothering to knock. “you rang?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned against the doorframe, still engrossed in your phone.

your father didn’t look up from his desk. “sit,” he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you glance up.

you blinked. okay. not a good sign.

it was then that you noticed him. the man standing beside your father, a silent shadow in the room. he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black—black tactical pants, black fitted shirt, black boots that looked like they could crush a skull without breaking a sweat. his arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but somehow radiating intensity. his face was all sharp angles and hard lines, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the room with a precision that made you feel like he’d already dissected every inch of it—and you along with it.

you straightened, your phone slipping into your pocket as you took a step forward. “who’s this?” you asked, your tone light but laced with suspicion.

your father gestured toward the man, his expression unyielding. “this is jay. your new bodyguard.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and absurd. then you laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound that echoed off the mahogany walls. “you’re joking.”

your father didn’t laugh. neither did jay. in fact, jay didn’t so much as twitch. his expression remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

you turned back to your father, your laughter fading into a scoff. “this isn’t necessary. i’m not in danger. that whole kidnapping thing? a fluke. it’s been weeks and nothing’s happened.”

your father’s jaw tightened. “which is exactly why you need protection. we’re not taking any chances.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but jay beat you to it. his voice was low, calm, and infuriatingly even. “i’m not here to be liked, just to do my job.”

your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. excuse me?

he met your glare without flinching, his expression as unreadable as a stone wall. he didn’t care. not about your annoyance, not about your defiance, not about you. the realisation made your blood boil.

“congratulations on the worst job in existence,” you said coolly, tilting your head as you studied him. “because i’m not some damsel in distress.”

jay didn’t blink. “right. you handled the last situation so well.”

your jaw dropped. the audacity. “excuse you—”

“enough,” your father interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting this entire conversation. “jay will be with you at all times. this isn’t up for discussion.”

you stared at him, then at jay, who was still standing there like some brooding statue, completely unfazed. your mind raced, already plotting ways to make his life a living hell. fine. if this was happening, you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

you flashed jay a sweet, taunting smile, the kind that usually made people nervous. “try and keep up.”

his lips twitched—just barely—but it wasn’t a smile. more like a challenge accepted. “i don’t plan on falling behind.”

oh, you already hated him. hated the way he looked at you like you were a problem to be solved, hated the way he stood there like he owned the room, hated the way his voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. but most of all, you hated that he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by you.

your father exhaled, clearly done with the conversation. “jay will start immediately. i expect you to cooperate.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you turned on your heel and strode toward the door, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. you could feel jay’s eyes on your back, tracking your every move, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. let him try to keep up. you were already planning your first escape.

as the doors swung shut behind you, you couldn’t help but smirk. this was going to be fun.

the first twenty-four hours with jay as your shadow were unbearable. it wasn’t just his constant presence—it’s the way he moves like he knows what you’re about to do before you do it, like some kind of infuriating psychic in tactical gear.

you woke up to find him standing right outside your bedroom door. arms crossed, eyes alert, posture straight. like a soldier. like a statue. like someone who had absolutely no life outside of making yours miserable.

you glare at him, silk robe slipping off your shoulder, hair a mess. “do you ever sleep? or do you just stand there like a creep all night?”

jay doesn’t react. not even a twitch. his gaze flicks over you, assessing, before looking away.

he didn’t react. not even a twitch. his dark eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing, before he looked away, his expression as blank as ever.

“good morning,” he said, his tone flat.

you rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face.

when you went to get coffee, he was already there, waiting. the barista gave him a once-over, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the faint scar that ran along his jawline. then they glanced at you, their eyebrows raised in a silent question: are you okay? do you need help?

you forced a smile. “he’s harmless,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie. jay didn’t so much as blink.

you grabbed your latte and stormed out, jay falling into step behind you like some kind of silent, brooding ghost. you could feel his eyes on your back, watching, always watching. it was suffocating.

in meetings, it was worse. you sat at the head of the conference table, your laptop open, your team discussing quarterly projections, and there he was—standing against the far wall, arms still crossed, his gaze sweeping the room like he was expecting an ambush at any moment. every time you glanced his way, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

you tried to ignore him. you really did. but his presence was like a thundercloud hovering over the room, dark and oppressive. by the time the meeting ended, you were ready to scream.

you had to get rid of him immediately.

attempt #1: the emergency exit 

it was simple, really. you waited until you were in the middle of a crowded lobby with jay, your phone pressed to your ear, your face the picture of distress. “no—no, stay right there, i’ll be there in five minutes,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. then you slipped out the back door, quick, smooth, victorious.

you couldn’t help but grin as you rounded the corner, your heart racing with the thrill of escape. finally, some freedom. finally, some—

jay was already there.

leaning against your car, arms still crossed, not even looking at you. like he’d been waiting for hours. like he’d known exactly where you’d go.

you froze, your smile slipping. “how the hell—”

he finally acknowledged you, tilting his head just slightly. his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

your fingers clenched into fists. oh. it was war.

attempt #2: the disappearing act

you waited until you were at a charity gala, the kind of event where everyone was too busy sipping champagne and gossipping to notice anything amiss. you slipped into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, your movements quick and deliberate. you ducked behind a potted plant, then made your way to the service entrance, your heart pounding with excitement.

you were almost there. almost free. and then—

“leaving so soon?”

you whirled around, your breath catching in your throat. jay stood in the doorway, his arms still crossed, his expression as calm as ever. he didn’t even look winded.

“how do you keep doing that?” you demanded, your voice rising.

he shrugged, the motion infuriatingly casual. “it’s my job.”

“your job is to annoy me to death?”

“if that’s what it takes to keep you alive, then yes.”

you glared at him, your chest heaving with frustration. he stared back, unflinching, his dark eyes boring into yours. for a moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, and you wanted to so badly give into it and just cause a tantrum. instead, you turned on your heel and stormed back into the gala, jay following close behind.

attempt #3: sensory overload

the mall was a chaotic symphony of chatter, clattering shopping bags, and the faint hum of pop music playing over the speakers. you strode through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, your eyes darting toward the exit signs. jay was a step behind you, his presence as unshakable as ever. his dark eyes scanned the crowd, his posture tense, like he was expecting a sniper to take a shot at any moment.

you rolled your eyes. “relax, rambo. it’s a mall, not a war zone.”

he didn’t respond. of course he didn’t. he just kept walking, his gaze flicking toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you hadn’t somehow vanished into thin air.

you gritted your teeth. this was supposed to be your day. you had a date with someone your mutual friend had set you up with. your father had forbidden you from going, but since when had you ever listened to him? and yet, here was jay, ruining everything like some overgrown shadow you couldn’t shake.

you bit back a sigh. if you wanted to shake him, you’d have to get creative.

spotting a perfume shop up ahead, you darted inside, the overwhelming scent of floral and citrus hitting you instantly. jay followed without hesitation, his towering frame making the narrow aisles feel even smaller.

“why are we here?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

“to test some new scents,” you replied innocently, grabbing a random bottle and spraying it on your wrist. “you wouldn’t understand.”

jay raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

you tried a few more perfumes, using up the space on your wrists and arms. finally, you turned to him, holding up a bottle.

“hold out your arm.”

jay blinked. “what?”

“you’re supposed to test it on skin,” you said, your tone overly patient. “and i’m out of space. come on.”

reluctantly, he extended his arm. you sprayed the perfume lightly on his wrist and leaned in, inhaling deeply.

jay tensed under your touch, his muscles stiffening as your fingers brushed his skin. you glanced up, noticing the tightness in his jaw, but you didn’t comment.

“it’s not bad,” you said, tilting your head. “but maybe something lighter.”

you reached for another bottle, quickly spraying it on his other wrist. this time, you didn’t stop at one spray. you pressed the nozzle again and again, filling the air with an overpowering mix of scents.

jay sneezed once, then twice, stumbling back a step as he tried to clear his nose.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice muffled between sneezes.

“just testing!” you said, holding up your hands in mock innocence. “you’re being dramatic.”

jay glared at you, but before he could recover, you dropped the perfume bottle and bolted, weaving through the crowded store and out into the mall. you didn’t look back. you didn’t need to. you could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy and determined.

your heart raced as you sprinted through the mall, dodging shoppers and strollers. you spotted a clothing store up ahead, its entrance tucked away in a quieter corner. perfect. you ducked inside, your breath coming in short gasps as you scanned the store. the dressing rooms. that was your best bet.

you darted toward them, slipping into the first stall you saw. you yanked the curtain closed, your chest heaving as you pressed your back against the wall. for a moment, there was silence. then you heard it—the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching the stall.

the curtain flew open, and there he was. jay. his chest was rising and falling slightly, his dark eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped into the stall, his body crowding yours as he pinned you against the wall. the curtain fell shut behind him, enclosing you in the small, dimly lit space.

you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. he was so close you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pulse jumped in his neck. his hands were braced on either side of your head, his body caging you in. the air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your stomach twist and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

“you’re not as clever as you think you are,” he said, his voice low and rough.

you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “and you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

his lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk. “try me.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue. his eyes dropped to your lips, just for a second, and something shifted between you. the air crackled with electricity, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body seemed to press closer without actually moving.

for a moment, neither of you moved. then jay stepped back, his expression shuttering as he regained control. “let’s go,” he said, his tone clipped.

you didn’t argue. for once, you didn’t have the words.

the party was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume, champagne, and the faint hum of a live jazz band. you stood near the centre of the room, dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, a glass of champagne in hand. you laughed at something your friend said, the sound light and carefree, but your attention was elsewhere.

jay.

he was standing across the room, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. he wasn’t even trying to hide it. he was watching you like a hawk, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense enough to make your skin prickle.

your friend leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “he’s been looking at you all night.”

you shrugged, pretending not to care. “who? jay? he’s just doing his job.”

but the truth was, you did care. you were hyper-aware of him now, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. and it annoyed you. it annoyed you that he could stand there, so calm and collected, while you felt like you were unravelling.

so you decided to push him.

you flirted with everyone but him. you laughed a little too loudly at a joke a handsome stranger made. you let your hand linger on the arm of a guy who clearly had no idea what personal space was. you disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, pretending jay didn’t exist.

but he did. he always did.

suddenly, a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with a cocky grin—stepped into your space, his hand hovering near your waist as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. his breath smelled like whisky, the proximity way too close for your comfort. 

you froze, your smile faltering. before you could react, jay was there.

he moved like a shadow, swift and silent, stepping between you and the man with a presence that was impossible to ignore. his voice was cool but sharp, cutting through the noise of the party like a knife. “hands off.”

the man blinked, his grin faltering as he took in jay’s imposing figure. “whoa, man, i was just—”

“i don’t care what you were just doing,” jay said, his tone low and dangerous. “back off.”

the man hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and jay, before he finally raised his hands in surrender and slunk away. you stared after him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest.

when you turned back to jay, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “you have no idea what you’re doing.”

your breath caught. “what are you talking about?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice rough and tinged with something that sounded almost like frustration. “flirting with strangers. disappearing into crowds. acting like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i can take care of myself.”

“can you?” he asked, his tone challenging. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your tongue. he was close—too close—his body crowding yours, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and something woodsy, and it made your head spin.

as the night wore on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, rough and low and so, so close. you caught yourself glancing at him more than once, your heart skipping a beat every time your eyes met his.

oh.

so he did care.

it happens slowly. or maybe it doesn’t. maybe it’s been happening this whole time, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice. but now, you do.

you start noticing the way he moves. always a step ahead, always positioning himself between you and anything that could be a threat. his sleeves are always rolled up, revealing the veins that line his forearms, his hands steady and sure. you notice the way he watches you, his dark eyes scanning every room like he’s mapping out every possible danger, but it’s never just that. there’s something else in his gaze, something you can’t quite name.

and worse? you start feeling it.

the heat in your chest when his hand brushes yours as he passes you a coffee. the frustration that coils in your stomach when someone else looks at him for too long. the way your breath catches when he says your name instead of brat or princess or whatever sarcastic nickname he’s come up with that day.

this is a problem.

but you handle it the way you always do—by pushing him.

it’s late, with the city feeling quiet, almost peaceful, and the only light comes from the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour diner. you’re sitting in a booth by the window, picking at a plate of fries you didn’t really want but ordered anyway because you were too stubborn to admit you were hungry. jay sits across from you, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the nearly empty diner like it’s a potential battlefield.

you roll your eyes. “relax, jay. the only danger here is the cholesterol in these fries.”

he just takes a sip of his black coffee, his expression as unreadable as ever.

you lean back in the booth, crossing your arms over your chest. “you know, you don’t have to babysit me 24/7. i’m not a child.”

his eyes flick to yours, sharp and assessing. “could’ve fooled me.”

you glare at him. “excuse me?”

he sets his coffee cup down, his voice low and even. “you act like rules don’t apply to you. like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

your jaw tightens. “and you act like you’re my dad. newsflash—you’re not.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the tension between you is thick, almost suffocating, and you can feel it building, building, building until it finally snaps.

“why do you even care so much?” you demand, your voice rising just enough to draw the attention of the tired-looking waitress behind the counter.

jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t get it, do you?”

your heartbeat stutters. “then explain it to me.”

for a second, he says nothing. he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure you out. then he stands, slow and deliberate, and slides into the booth beside you. he’s close now, closer than he’s ever let himself be, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you don’t back away.

his eyes flicker to your lips, and your breath catches. the air between you is so thin, so sharp you can almost taste it.

he leans in, his voice low and rough. “you have no idea what i’d do to keep you safe.”

your pulse is in your throat, waiting, waiting, waiting.

but before anything can happen—

the bell above the diner door jingles, and a group of loud, laughing teenagers spills inside, shattering the moment.

jay pulls back instantly, his jaw tightening as he slides out of the booth. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. he just walks to the counter, his posture rigid, like nothing happened.

like nothing almost happened.

but you know better.

you press a hand to your chest, trying to steady your heartbeat, but it’s no use. your mind is racing, replaying the moment over and over again—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the way your body had reacted to his nearness.

this is getting dangerous.

later, as you sit in the back of the car on the way home, you can’t stop thinking about it. jay is in the driver’s seat, his eyes fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. you stare at the back of his head, your thoughts a tangled mess.

you think about the way he’d stepped between you and that guy at the party, his voice sharp and commanding. you think about the way he’d leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

and you think about the way he’d pulled away, like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean anything.

but it did. you know it did.

you mentally groan, leaning your head against the window. this is a problem. a big problem. because no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t deny it anymore.

you like him.

and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

you don’t talk about it.

the almost-kiss, the tension that stains every interaction now—it hangs between you like a live wire, sharp and charged. you find yourself watching him more, catching the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. his gaze lingers a little too long, his movements a little too deliberate, and it drives you insane.

but you don’t talk about it.

instead, you push. you push him, you push yourself, you push the boundaries of whatever this is between you. and he pushes back, always steady, always in control, until—

one day it happens fast. too fast.

you’re walking back to the car after an event, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. jay is a step behind you, his presence a constant, grounding force. you’re arguing about something stupid—something meaningless—because that’s what you do now. you bicker, you snipe, you push each other’s buttons, all while pretending the tension between you doesn’t exist.

and then, out of nowhere, it happens.

you don’t even see it coming. one moment, you’re stepping off the curb, and the next, jay is moving—swift, silent, and utterly precise. he shoves you out of the way, his body shielding yours as a figure lunges at you from the shadows.

there’s a flash of metal, a grunt of pain, and then the sound of footsteps retreating into the night.

you stumble, catching yourself against the car, your heart pounding in your chest. “jay—”

he’s already turning, his hand pressed to his side, his breathing steady despite the blood seeping through his fingers. “get in the car.”

you stare at him, your mind racing. “you’re bleeding. we need to go to the hospital—l”

“it’s nothing, just a scratch” he says, his voice calm, like this is just another day on the job. like he didn’t just take a knife for you.

but it’s not nothing. it’s not nothing because your hands are shaking as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the warm, sticky blood staining his shirt. “jay—”

“get in the car,” he repeats, his tone sharper this time. “now.”

you don’t argue. you can’t. your mind is a blur as you climb into the passenger seat, your eyes never leaving him as he slides behind the wheel. his movements are steady, controlled, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel.

the drive home is silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you keep glancing at him, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. fear. guilt. something else.

when you finally arrive, you follow him inside, your hands still trembling. he heads straight for the bathroom, and you trail after him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“let me see,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t argue this time. he just sits on the edge of the bathtub, his shirt already half-off, revealing the deep gash along his side. it’s not fatal, not even close, but it’s enough to make your stomach twist.

you grab the first aid kit from under the sink and kneel in front of him, your hands shaking as you clean the wound. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and unreadable.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” you say, your voice breaking. “you shouldn’t have—”

“it’s my job,” he interrupts, his tone calm, like that explains everything.

but it doesn’t. not to you. not when your hands are stained with his blood, not when your chest feels like it’s about to collapse under the weight of everything you’re feeling.

“don’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “don’t do that again.”

he looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for the first time, you see it—the crack in his armour. the flicker of something raw, something real.

“you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low and rough. “i’d do it again. every time.”

your breath catches, your hands still pressed against his side. “why?”

he doesn’t answer. not with words, at least. instead, he reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it makes your chest ache.

and that’s it. that’s the breaking point.

you don’t think. you don’t hesitate. you just pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and relief. for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t respond, and you’re terrified you’ve made a mistake.

but then his hands are in your hair, his mouth moving against yours, and it’s like the world stops. the tension, the anger, the fear, it all melts away, leaving nothing but the two of you.

the room is silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the overhead light. jay’s hands are still tangled in your hair, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. you can feel the rapid beat of his heart where your hand rests against his chest, and it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s as affected by this as you are.

but then he pulls back, his expression shuttering as he regains control. “we shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and rough.

you blink, your chest tightening at his words. “why not?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he stands, his movements stiff as he turns away from you. “because it complicates things.”

you stare at him, your heart sinking. “complicates things? jay, you just took a knife for me. i think things are already complicated.”

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t understand.”

“then explain it to me,” you snap, your frustration bubbling over. “because i’m tired of pretending like this—whatever this is—doesn’t exist.”

he turns to look at you, his dark eyes blazing with something you can’t quite name. “you think i don’t feel it too? you think i don’t want—” he cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “it doesn’t matter what i want. my job is to keep you safe. that’s it.”

you step closer, your hands trembling at your sides. “and what if i don’t want you to just be my bodyguard? what if i want more?”

he doesn’t respond. not with words, at least. but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. for a moment, you think he might give in, might finally let himself feel something.

but then he steps back, his expression hardening. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

you laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “don’t i? because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re the one who’s scared.”

his eyes narrow, and for a second, you think you’ve pushed him too far. but then he exhales, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right. i am scared. because if something happens to you—if i let myself care too much and i can’t protect you—” he cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “i can’t lose you.”

your breath catches, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. “jay—”

he doesn’t let you finish. instead, he steps forward, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again. this time, it’s softer, slower, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you. and you let him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pull him closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. “i can’t promise this will be easy,” he says, his voice low and rough. “but i can promise i’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you swallow, your throat tight with emotion. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

you don’t talk about it for a full twenty-four hours.

not because you regret it. god, no. if anything, the memory of his hands on you, his lips against yours, plays on a loop in your mind, leaving you breathless every time. but now, there’s no going back. no pretending this isn’t real. no pretending you don’t feel the way his presence sets your skin on fire, or the way your heart races when he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

jay is still jay. still overprotective, still infuriating, still the same stoic bodyguard who drives you up the wall. but now?

now, every argument ends with him pulling you in by the waist, his voice low and rough as he murmurs, “you’re impossible,” before silencing you with a kiss.

now, every lingering stare actually leads to something—a brush of his hand against yours, a heated glance that makes your stomach flip, a moment where the tension between you becomes too much to ignore.

and now, your father figures it out almost immediately.

it happens during a family dinner, of all things. you’re sitting at the table, picking at your food while jay sits in his usual spot by you. your father is at the head of the table, his sharp gaze flicking between you and jay with a calculating look that makes your stomach sink.

you try to act normal. you really do. but when jay’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a glass of water, and you catch yourself smiling at him without thinking, your father clears his throat.

“so,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “when were you planning on telling me?”

you freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth. “telling you what?”

your father raises an eyebrow, gesturing between you and jay. “about this.”

you feel your face heat, your heart pounding in your chest. “i—what are you talking about?”

your father sighs, rubbing his temples like he’s already done with this conversation. “at least it’s him.”

jay freezes, his posture stiffening as he looks at your father. you gape, your mind racing. “excuse me?”

your father shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “you were always a handful, but he can handle it.”

you stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. this is not the reaction you were expecting. not even close. you were prepared for yelling, for threats, for jay to be fired on the spot. but this? this casual acceptance? it’s almost worse.

you turn to jay, still reeling. “is this really happening?”

jay looks equally disturbed, his jaw tight as he meets your father’s gaze. “sir, i—”

your father holds up a hand, cutting him off. “don’t. just… keep her out of trouble. that’s all i ask.”

and just like that, the conversation is over. your father goes back to his meal like nothing happened, leaving you and jay to exchange a stunned look.

later, when you’re alone in your room, jay leans against the door, his arms crossed as he watches you pace back and forth. “well,” he says, his voice dry, “that could’ve gone worse.”

you stop pacing, turning to glare at him. “worse? he basically gave us his blessing. that’s not worse. that’s… i don’t even know what that is.”

jay shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “guess you’re stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away when he steps closer, his hands settling on your waist. “lucky me,” you mutter, though the way your heart skips a beat betrays your words.

jay’s smirk softens into something warmer, his eyes searching yours. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you don’t respond. not with words, at least. instead, you lean into him, your hands resting against his chest as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, before leaning down to kiss you. and as his lips brush against yours, you realise something.

maybe, just maybe, you don’t want to pull away.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[inseobts]

TRAITOR pt.3

law x traitor!reader

PART 1 - PART 2 ⤳ PART 4 (coming soon)

words count: 3.2k

tags: series, enemies to lover(?), traitor reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

That night, you make the call.

You slip away from the crew, knowing that tonight’s the night you have to act. The alliance is too close to the finish line. You can’t afford to wait any longer.

And if you have to use your powers… Well, you’ll use them.

You know exactly where the Poneglyphs are kept. You’ve been studying them for months now. And just as you’re about to make your move, you hear a voice behind you.

It’s Law again.

“Y/N…” His voice is soft, but the tension in it is unmistakable “Don’t do this.”

You freeze, your hand already on the door to the storage room. You turn slowly, your heart pounding. You knew he's way too smart to get played like this and this easily.

“You don’t have to go through with it” he continues, taking a step closer “I can help you. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

You feel the pull of his words.

You want to believe him, but you can’t. You can’t stay. You can’t let them get too close.

“I’m sorry, Law” you whisper, and then you do what you’ve been avoiding for so long.

With a single flick of your wrist, you reach into his mind, just enough to disorient him, to make him forget what he’s about to see.

In the blink of an eye, you twist his perception of reality, shifting the air around him, clouding his thoughts. His eyes glaze over as he loses track of time, lost in your manipulation.

You step through the door, your power still simmering beneath the surface, but just for a moment, you give in.

Just this once.

You’ve never used your power on Law before. Not once. But tonight, you had no choice.

You watch as his sharp golden eyes glaze over, his body momentarily swaying. It’s unnatural—seeing him like this. Trafalgar Law, the man who always sees through everything, the one person who should be immune to deception.

Yet here he stands, caught in the delicate strings of your ability.

“I’m sorry, Captain” you murmur, stepping through the door and leaving him behind.

You don’t look back. You can’t afford to.

You move fast.

Your real crew is waiting for you. Not physically, not here, but they’re watching from the shadows, tracking your every move. They know you’re close. They know you’re almost done.

You just need the final piece. Steal the Poneglyph copies.

That’s why you joined the Heart Pirates. That’s why you stayed, why you fought beside them, why you let yourself get close to Law. It was never about them. It was never about him.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

Your hands move on autopilot, reaching for the hidden compartment in Law’s office. You’ve seen him open it before. You know exactly where the safe is, where he keeps the things he doesn’t want others to find.

Click.

The lock releases.

Your fingers close around the scrolls, and just like that—it’s over. You have what you came for. So why does your chest feel tight?

You shove the feeling down and turn on your heel, heading for the exit. But the moment you step into the hallway—

A shift.

A presence.

And your stomach drops.

He’s already after you.

Standing at the end of the corridor, his back straight, golden eyes locked onto yours. His sword is at his side, his expression unreadable.

You freeze.

No.

He shouldn’t be awake. Your ability should have kept him under long enough for you to be gone.

Law tilts his head slightly, his gaze sharp as ever “So… that’s your real ability.”

He remembers. Your heart pounds. This is bad. Worse than bad.

You take a step back, fingers twitching at your sides, ready to manipulate the space between you, to push into his mind again if necessary.

But something about the way he’s looking at you makes you hesitate.

Not anger.

Not even betrayal.

Just… disappointment.

That’s worse.

“You were planning this the whole time” he states. It’s not a question. It’s a fact.

You swallow hard, trying to find an escape “Law, I...”

He takes a step forward.

And suddenly, you feel it... A sharp, pulsing tug in the air.

Your body jerks. The space around you shifts. And before you can react, you’re somewhere else—teleported, thrown against the wall by his ability.

Your breath catches. He used Shambles on you.

“You used your power on me” His voice is eerily calm, but you can feel the storm brewing beneath it “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

You don’t answer. You can’t, because there’s nothing left to say.

You’re caught.

And for the first time since you started this mission—

You don’t know how to get out of it.

You’re trapped.

Law has you pinned against the wall, golden eyes burning with unreadable emotion. His Shambles forced you here in an instant, disorienting you just long enough to throw off your next move.

Your instincts scream at you to act—twist his mind again, erase this moment, make him forget like you did before.

But something stops you... His expression.

You were expecting rage. You were prepared for it—anger, betrayal, anything. But this? This is different.

Law isn’t furious. He isn’t even yelling. He just looks… tired. Tired in a way that makes your chest ache.

“You used me” His voice is too calm, too controlled.

You don’t reply. What can you even say? He already knows the answer.

Law takes a slow step toward you, closing the distance between you both “How long?”

Your fingers twitch at your sides. He’s too close. If he gets any nearer, you’ll have to make a choice—fight, run, or lie.

You wet your lips “Does it matter?”

His jaw tightens “It does to me.”

Something in your gut twists at his words, but you force yourself to stay focused. You can’t afford emotions right now.

Your escape window is closing. You need to get out of here.

Your mind races, calculating your next move. You could use your ability again—push into his thoughts, force him to let you go. But Law isn’t stupid. He’s already seen what you can do, and now he’s watching you closely.

If you make one wrong move, you won’t get another chance.

So instead, you try the only other option left.

Words.

You tilt your head, forcing a smirk despite the tension “What? Did you think this was real?”

Law doesn’t move.

You step forward, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to something softer “Come on, Captain. You’re too smart to have actually believed me.”

His breath hitches—so faint you almost miss it.

Good. You press further, tilting your head as if amused “You thought I cared about you?” A scoff leaves your lips “I was only using you.”

There... You say it. The words cut through the air like a blade, slicing into the space between you.

You expect anger. You expect him to lash out, to yell, to hate you. But he doesn’t.

Law just stares at you, silent. His golden eyes don’t waver, don’t even flicker with emotion.

And that’s somehow worse.

You swallow, suddenly feeling… uneasy.

Why isn’t he reacting?

Why does it feel like you just lost this fight?

“…Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Law finally speaks, his voice quiet, but edged with something unreadable.

Your breath catches.

“What?”

Law takes another step closer... too close now, dangerously close, until you can see every shift in his expression, every flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

“You’re lying.”

Your pulse jumps.

He can’t know that. He can’t.

Law tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s about to solve “I’ve seen you fight for this crew. I’ve seen the way you look at us... at me.” His voice drops, softer now, but firm “If this was just a mission, why didn’t you leave sooner?”

You clench your fists “Because I needed the Poneglyph copies.”

He shakes his head “That’s not the only reason.”

Damn him.

Damn him for being too smart.

You grit your teeth, trying to keep your mask up “Believe whatever you want... Captain” you say, voice cold “It doesn’t change the truth.”

Law studies you for a long moment. You hate how much he’s looking at you, how much he’s seeing.

Then he exhales, taking a small step back. And just like that, you get your opening. You move... fast.

Before Law can react, your mind reaches out, power snapping into place. The corridor distorts, reality bending around him as you twist his perception for just a second—long enough to slip past him.

Law curses, reaching for his sword, but you’re already gone.

You sprint through the halls of the Polar Tang, heart hammering, your stolen prize tucked beneath your coat. Your only thought is escape.

You need to get off this ship, and fast.

The moment you hit the deck, chaos erupts with the alarm sound.

The crew is now awake.

Lights flash, voices shout, and you realize—Law must have set off an alert the second he saw you.

Shit.

“Y/N?! What the hell?!” Penguin’s voice echoes from the other side of the ship.

You don’t stop. You don’t even look at them.

You leap onto the railing, preparing to jump, to disappear into the ocean where your real crew is waiting—

“ROOM.”

Your body locks in place mid-air, frozen as the space around you twists.

And then— You’re back on the deck, slammed onto your knees, trapped in a sphere of Law’s ability.

Your breath shudders as you glance up.

Law stands before you, katana drawn, eyes shadowed beneath his hat.

He’s done playing.

“Don’t move” he orders, voice dangerously low.

The crew is gathering behind him, watching in confusion and shock. Shachi, Penguin, Bepo—they’re all looking at you like they don’t even know who you are anymore.

Because they don’t.

Because the person they trusted never really existed.

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to keep your expression blank.

This is bad... worse than bad.

You were supposed to escape by now. You were never supposed to get caught.

And yet—here you are. Trapped... cornered, with no way out.

Law’s voice cuts through the night, sharp and cold.

“Start talking.”

You meet his gaze.

And for the first time in a long, long time—

You have no idea what to say.

The deck is silent.

No one moves.

Not Bepo. Not Penguin. Not Shachi. And certainly not Law.

You kneel on the cold metal surface, frozen inside the boundaries of his Room, every breath feeling heavier than the last. The stolen Poneglyph copies are still tucked beneath your coat.

Law keeps his katana pointed at you, the tip gleaming under the dim lights of the submarine. His golden eyes, usually sharp with calculation, are unreadable.

“I said start talking” he orders, voice controlled, but edged with something darker.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself. Think. There’s still a way out of this. There has to be.

But the way the crew is looking at you... Shachi, arms crossed, face hard with disbelief. Penguin, shifting uncomfortably, like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. Bepo, ears drooped, expression heart-wrenchingly confused.

They trusted you, and now, they don’t even know who you are.

Law tilts his head slightly, waiting “I won’t ask again.”

You look at him, really look at him.

You were never supposed to let it get this far. You were never supposed to care. But now, kneeling here, trapped under his gaze, you realize something— You don’t want to lie to him. Not anymore. But you have to.

“…What do you want me to say?” you murmur, keeping your tone neutral “That I played you? That I fooled all of you?” You exhale a short laugh, empty and sharp “Fine. You already figured it out, didn’t you?”

Law’s expression doesn’t change “Why?”

Simple. Direct.

The question lingers in the air, heavier than it should be.

You shift slightly, testing the invisible hold of his Room. The second you make a real move, he’ll react. You know that. But maybe—just maybe—you can still turn this around.

You meet his gaze, tilting your head “You already know why, Captain.”

He watches you carefully “Tell me anyway.”

You exhale through your nose. Fine.

“I was after the Poneglyphs,” you admit, tapping your coat where the stolen scrolls are hidden “That’s all this ever was. You were a means to an end. The Heart Pirates, this alliance—” You force a smirk “None of it was real.”

The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. Law says nothing for a moment.

Then—

“That’s bullshit.”

Your smirk falters.

“What?”

Law steps closer, his sword still steady, but his voice quieter now “If it wasn’t real, you would’ve left sooner. You had plenty of chances.” His gaze sharpens “And you wouldn’t have hesitated just now.”

You freeze.

Shit. He caught that?

You recover quickly, rolling your eyes “Believe whatever you want, Captain. It doesn’t change anything.”

Law’s jaw tightens “Then say it again.”

You blink “What?”

“Look me in the eyes,” he says, stepping even closer, until he’s towering over you, “and say it again.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. The words stick in your throat, because deep down, you know... if you say it again, if you really try to convince him, it won’t just be a lie to him.

It’ll be a lie to yourself.

And that scares you more than getting caught ever did.

The crew watches in tense silence, waiting for your next move.

Law’s grip on his sword tightens “You can’t, can you?”

Damn him for knowing you too well.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms. If you don’t act now, you won’t get another chance. So you make your choice.

In one swift motion, you shove your power outward—

A sudden wave of energy ripples through the Room, distorting reality just enough to catch Law off guard.

“Shit—!”

The moment his control slips, you move.

Your body vanishes, slipping between perception and space, a trick you’ve mastered over years of training. For a split second, you’re everywhere and nowhere, dodging the grasp of reality itself.

And when you reappear... behind him. Law spins too late. You don’t hesitate.

With a flick of your fingers, you snap his mind just enough to throw him into a moment of disorientation. His breath catches. His sword falters. His focus breaks. And you run.

Voices shout behind you.

“Get her!”

“She’s heading for the water!”

“Stop her before—”

Too late.

You reach the edge of the Polar Tang, heart pounding, pulse screaming in your ears. The cold night air whips against your face as you take one last look back.

Law has already recovered. He’s glaring at you from across the deck, eyes sharp, fury crackling just beneath the surface.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t let yourself hesitate and with a final breath, you jump.

The ocean swallows you whole until someone from your crew brings you to the ship, hidden in the darkness.

You pull yourself onto the deck, dripping and breathless, heart still hammering from the escape.

Your captain—your real captain—leans against the railing, arms crossed “Took you long enough.”

You toss the stolen scrolls onto the deck “I got what we came for.”

He picks them up, examining them briefly before smirking “Not bad.” Then his gaze flickers to you “And the Heart Pirates?”

You force a smirk, shaking off the lingering weight in your chest. “What about them?”

Your captain watches you for a moment before chuckling “You always were a good liar.”

You don’t respond, because for the first time in your life— You’re not sure if that’s true anymore.

You should feel victorious. You got what you came for. You won.

So why does it feel like you lost?

The stolen Poneglyph copies sit untouched on the table in front of you. You can hear the muffled sounds of your real crew moving about the ship, celebrating the success of your mission. You should be out there with them.

But instead, you’re here.

Sitting alone in the captain’s quarters, staring at the very thing you sacrificed everything for.

Your fingers drum against the wood, restless. You don’t even flinch when the door swings open, and your captain strides in.

“Still brooding?” His voice is amused, but there’s an edge to it. He steps closer, arms crossed “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad.”

You scoff, forcing a smirk “Why would I?”

He tilts his head, studying you “That’s what I’d like to know.”

You roll your eyes “I did what I had to do.”

“Did you?”

His tone is too casual, too knowing.

You tense “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, glancing at the scrolls “You had multiple chances to finish the job earlier. Yet you hesitated. A lot.” His gaze flickers back to you, sharp and calculating “Tell me… was it really just a mission to you?”

A dangerous question.

One you don’t want to answer.

So you don’t.

Instead, you stand, brushing past him toward the door “What does it matter? We got what we wanted.”

He lets you go—but not before chuckling under his breath “If you say so.”

You don’t look back, because if you do, you might start doubting yourself all over again.

Meanwhile, On the Polar Tang

“I still don’t believe it.”

Shachi slams his hands onto the table in the mess hall, shaking his head furiously “There’s just no way y/n betrayed us! Maybe she was brainwashed! Maybe she was forced into it!”

“She used her powers against us...” Penguin mutters, arms crossed, his usual easygoing demeanor completely gone “That wasn’t an accident.”

Bepo looks between them, ears drooping “But… she was our friend.”

No one knows what to say to that. Silence lingers between them—until the door swings open and Law steps inside. Every head turns to him.

He looks… exhausted. Dark circles shadow his golden eyes, and his expression is unreadable as he walks past them to the table.

Shachi is the first to break the silence “Captain—”

“She was a spy,” Law says simply, cutting straight to the point “She infiltrated us for informations and the Poneglyph copies.”

His voice is calm. Too calm.

Bepo shifts uncomfortably “Then… that means everything was a lie?”

Shachi grits his teeth “I still don’t buy it. Come on, Captain, you know her. She fought for us. She laughed with us. She—”

“She lied.”

Law’s voice is firm, but there’s something heavy beneath it. Something almost… reluctant.

Penguin frowns “Did you talk to her before she escaped?”

A pause.

Then—

“Yes.”

“And?”

Law exhales slowly, fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table. His usual sharpness is dulled, like his mind is elsewhere.

“…She said it was all an act.”

The room is silent again.

Then Shachi scoffs “And you actually believe that?”

Law finally looks up, his golden eyes locking onto Shachi’s.

“I don’t know.”

That admission—that uncertainty—hits harder than anything else.

Because Law always knows.

Always.

Back on Your Ship

Days pass.

You don’t reach for the stolen scrolls again. You don’t even look at them.

But you do think about golden eyes. About a crew that trusted you. About the way Law looked at you before you left.

You should be moving forward. This is what you chose.

So why does it feel like something is pulling you back?

And why do you have the terrible, sinking feeling that this isn’t over yet?

Tag List: @dana-nite - @osakis-gf - @crmnic

[grandline-fics]

For Valentine's event! I'm so deeply in love how you write, especially Doflamingo!! So maybe, True love's kiss for him?

Anyway thanks for your works they're all amazing 🙌💕

DESCRIPTION: True Love's Kiss- The moment they realise they're in love

WARNINGS: none (at least I don't think so, other than the fact is about Doflamingo)

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 1,420

A/N: At first I was tempted to link this to Immune To Your Charms but then decided against it so we could have a different version of Doffy and another version of his realisation he's capable of love. I hope you enjoy what I came up with for this for you anon. Thank you for the request!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

Doflamingo thrived on the adoration and unequivocal loyalty of his family, his most trusted elite officers in the inner circle ready to throw their lives down should he simply say the word. The rush that would flood his system when his subordinates and civilians bowed low before him took him flooding back to his short lived days in his rightful standing as a Celestial Dragon; it’s never quite the same that his nostalgia had preserved in his memory but it's as close as it’ll ever get. The only other thing that ever came close to giving him a surge of true satisfaction and happiness is when you, one of his best and most precious officers, would throw him that sweet smile contrasting with that sharp and dangerous gaze of yours and greet him with a smooth “Hello Doffy.” 

He could always count on you to see to it that any mission he gave you was executed perfectly and without hesitation. Not only did you take pride in your efficiency and skill but seeing it recognised in a man like Doflamingo mattered to you too. You knew that Doflamingo’s trust and reliance on you had nothing to do with the fact that you were Doflamingo’s current lover. As it was, you understood your place in the whole situation, just as you’d witnessed with his previous entanglements.

It was only ever going to last as long as your King wished it to. Should anyone else ever catch his eye and attention and he wished them to warm his bed instead of you, you would be cast aside in that regard. You came to terms with that long ago and idly part of your mind always wondered when that day would come so you enjoyed what you had for as long as Doflamingo wanted you that way.

One morning you were summoned to his office for your latest mission. Wordlessly you accepted the information he handed over to you and began to read it over while listening to his every word. “Seems someone’s been pushing their nose into places that doesn’t concern them. That’s the most recent location we could learn so it’s likely they’ve moved on already.” He explained, his sinister grin in place. “I know it’ll be no issue for you to track them down and taking care of them before returning home to me.”

“Sure you don't want me to take my time?” You asked curiously, finally lifting your head with your own smile curving your lips. “You normally enjoy it when I make them suffer first.”

“You’ll already be spending time away in search of your prey, my dear.” Doflamingo explained while rising from his seat to step around the desk to stand in front of you. Never needing his strings to make you move or respond in the ways he wished, you simply always knew. Keeping your eyes on his face, you turned to face him, stepping back until the desk was now behind you and his hands settled on the wood to playfully cage you in. “I’d much rather have you go and kill and come back, otherwise I’d just miss you too much.”

For the smallest moment his words threw you off but you quickly controlled your expression. Unfortunately you weren’t fast enough and it hadn’t gone unnoticed to Doflamingo. Lifting one hand away to pinch your chin he made you look firmly at him, refusing to let you go until he got answers out of you. Doflamingo knew you wouldn’t have to force it out of you. The second he asked, you’d answer. “Now what was that look for? What could I have said to possibly create such a face?”

“Just surprised my absence would have such an affect on you.” You explained calmly, your smile returning. “There’s plenty here that’ll keep you company if I take too long. Speaking of, with your permission, I’ll go straight away Doffy.” Doflamingo regarded you silently and moved his hand from your chin to thread his fingers into your hair and pulled you in as he leant forward to capture you lips in a harsh, bruising kiss. Under his lead, you effortlessly followed the pace and intensity of the kiss, only breaking apart when he allowed it to. Breathless and dazed you could only stare at Doflamingo when he released you, offering a small but determined nod when he ordered you to complete your mission as fast as you could.

——

Two weeks went by and still you hadn’t returned, leaving Doflamingo to feel restless. Uncomfortably so. He had been receiving updates from you steadily up until a few days ago, everything in code and brief but you hadn’t given him any signal that something was wrong. You were closely on the heels of your target who you were certain you’d catch up to soon. Doflamingo had no doubts about your abilities, you were one of his best so he knew you’d get the job done but still something was annoying him about it all. He was also unshakable in his knowledge of your loyalty to him, there was no way you’d leave him but he still needed to know what was causing his agitation. Thinking back to the day you left he remembered the look of genuine surprise that captured your usually self-assured features when he spoke of how he’d miss you. 

Your little comment about others keeping him company also hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either. Truth be told now that he had the time to think about, you had lasted so much longer than anyone else had as his lover. Those that came before you held no true interest with him, simply attractive things that allowed him to satisfy his needs before he kicked them out of his bed and sought his next source of entertainment in another person. You held his every attention, staying close to him even without having to give your body or touch to him. It was you he wanted and he had meant what he’d said when he said he missed you when you were gone, only now he seemed to realise just how much. 

Two more days passed before you returned to Dressrosa’s Palace, walking slowly and tensed. At your arrival in the entrance hall, you saw a few servants hurrying in different directions most likely in search of Doflamingo to let him know. You didn’t know why they bothered, he was going to be the first person you sought out to report the success of your mission and apologise for taking longer than you should have. You were only halfway up the staircase when Doflamingo appeared at the top, watching you climb the last few steps until you were beside him. 

Carefully he inspected your face. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes and your shoulders slumped slightly. You were barely staying awake, he could see the steeled focus in your gaze as you were determined to remain conscious enough to greet him with an attempt at your usual sweet smile. “Hello Doffy. Sorry I took longer than intended.”

“Was the mission successful?”

“Mhm.” You nodded before covering you mouth to yawn. “Target was a nuisance though.”

“In what way?” Doflamingo lifted you effortlessly into his arms and carried you to his quarters.

“Devil Fruit user.” You explained with a mumble, a small hum of contentment breaking from your lips when you were laid down on his bed, sinking against the pillows. Doflamingo tilted his head curiously at that revelation. Had he known that the target had an ability, he would have ensured you were better prepared for that. Doflamingo felt relief wash over him to see you’d been unharmed, knowing better than anyone how monstrous Devil Fruits were, and made sure that in future you would be better prepared so there would be no surprises like that on your missions. “Doffy? Why am I in your room?”

“I had your things moved here while you were away, of course.” He chuckled watching you struggle to open your eyes to look at him in confusion. “It seemed as though you had a lapse in awareness about your standing with me. Your place is beside me always and there will never be any room for anyone else. Understand, love?” For emphasis he pressed a tender kiss against your lips.

“I understand.” You hummed softly, the loving smile gracing your lips suddenly securing itself in Doflamingo’s regard as something no-one else could ever come close to competing with.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534 , @rosemary-lungs , @thecraftywriter , @rorozorolover , @yagirlsmuchelle , @engenemoazen , @sukunasstomachtongue , @nico-ith

[tomorrowusa]

Ukraine is totally correct not to fall for phony agreements with Russia. Russia has a long history of not keeping its word – maybe that's why Trump is such a Putinphile..

Russia's invasion violated at least three major international agreements.

The 1945 United Nations Charter [Article 2, Section 4].

The 1975 Helsinki Final Act [1. (a) III and 1. (a) IV] by the CSCE which in 1990 became the OSCE.

The 1994 Budapest Memorandum.

Why should anybody trust Putin's Russia to observe any new agreements?

Tim Mak is a journalist working in Ukraine. He was formerly with NPR and The Daily Beast. This is from his Substack The Counteroffensive. He and two colleagues spoke with diplomat and international attorney Oleksandr Merezhko who participated in negotiations with Russia of previous ceasefires known as the Minsk agreements.

"I believed that [the agreements] could be implemented with good will... but Russia did not even try to achieve a result, they just wanted to use it for purely propagandistic military purposes to destroy Ukraine," Merezhko said. As February 2022 approached, when the full-scale invasion began, Oleksandr began to suspect that Russia was planning something more significant. After all, Moscow was increasingly spreading information online that Ukraine was violating the Minsk agreements. "Russia was looking for an excuse to abandon the ceasefire, accuse Ukraine of violating it, and then its hands would be free for full-scale aggression... We did everything to prevent Russia from having a chance to say that even if it was aggression, an attack, it was provoked by Ukraine," Merezhko said. [ ... ] The main problem is that the Russians were uninterested in a ceasefire and negotiations. They comply with rules and requirements only when it is to their advantage. "The Minsk agreements have once again confirmed that we cannot have anything to do with the Russians, because they are liars and never keep their commitments, or keep them only when it is in their interest. When [their] interest disappears, so do the obligations," Ukrainian diplomat and former foreign minister Volodymyr Ohryzko told The Counteroffensive. The main conclusion to be drawn from the Minsk agreements is that to negotiate anything with the Russians is to disrespect oneself, said Ohryzko. Therefore, the main argument in talks with Russia is strength.

Anybody who believes that Russia would observe a new agreement without Ukraine getting solid security backing from the West probably attended Trump University and bought a year's worth of Trump Vitamins.

The Russian word показуха generally means "window dressing" but can sometimes be used to describe a staged event. In that sense, that's what the Trump-Vance hissy fit in the Oval Office was.

I suspect that somebody told Trump that Ukraine got the better end of the minerals deal. The only way Trump could weasel out of it was to have a temper tantrum to keep it from being signed as scheduled.

As for Ukraine not being grateful, fact checkers pooped all over Trump's lies about that.

Fact check: 33 times Zelensky thanked Americans and US leaders

How often does Trump thank people? He probably never thanked the doctor who faked the diagnosis of a bone spur to keep him from getting drafted.

Back to 1994 for a moment. In the Budapest Memorandum, Ukraine gave up its nuclear weapons for secure borders. Now that Ukraine's territorial integrity has been violated, does that mean it's okay for them to have nukes again?

[4drianaaaa]

can u make a hamzah x reader where they’ve been together since like high school? Reader was with hamzah during freakshow but just never revealed her identity cuz she’s kinda shy abt it and her and hamzah just keep it private online but one day during the pod hamzah slips up abt something to do with her and him and Martin forget to edit it out and the fans figure out he has a gf? 😭

"Keep us a secret..." | Hamzahthefantastic

fem reader + sfw! wrd counter: 1.5k

It was the summer after graduating when you were able to finally hang out with your boyfriend Hamzah. You both grew really close together and he ended up asking you out one random morning on a Friday with a small cute teddy bear and your favorite drink - any energy drink ever.

After all those years you two were glued to each other like crazy. Hamzah ended up taking the streamer/entertainer thing more seriously after a crazy pay check. You on the other hand went to college studying what ever you were studying.

When quarantine happened, it was the worse for him. Ever since you both started dating he's always been clingy. He loved when you were around him. Just your presence gave him an awe. He loved when you would be all over him although he hated to admit it. And so did you. Because the two of you were inseparable.

He began a small streaming idea with some of his friends which gained him hundreds of fans. Although during this time there was so many rumors about his dating life that had to do with members in the small streaming culture and even outside of the group due to him having a lot of girl products in the background, especially during his streams.

Because of this he wanted to take his content creator lifestyle more seriously. He decided to move to Toronto, Canada. Where he also invited you to share a small apartment with him. The relationship was so true you couldn't say no.

Now, you both live under the same roof with two small cats, red and blue. He loved the fact that he was living the life he is with you.

Although there was always, always, speculations about Hamzah being in a relationship It was never you that was targeted which made Hamzah very nonchalant to the constant rumors that surrounded his love life.

He loved the fact that he was able to get home to see you and his two favorite cats in the whole world. He loved waking up every morning seeing you by his side. He also loved the way he was able to have you all to him self. He loved moments like that, he's always dreamed of them especially with you.

Memories with you were engraved deep into his mind. It was the little things he can never forget.

You, Martin, Hamzah, Mandy, and Freddie have all grown very close together. You all liked to spend time in the office thinking of ideas as well as the other people working in the office. This was also because Hamzah always begged you to come with him.

You and Hamzah were in the office by your self's waiting for Martin to arrive. You laid on the couch of the podcast as you saw Hamzah walking towards you with a small digi-cam. You turn and hear a click with a flash as you sat up.

"What was that!" You said clicking your phone off as he plopped beside you showing you pictures he's taken around the office, "Just things to keep around here" he smiled as he pushed his glasses back going through the very random pictures. You looked up at him as he seemed very intrigued to the camera. You hated to admit it but you loved his blonde hair. You noticed the small dark roots pop out which only made you more excited about what it would look like fully grown out. As well as his Glasses. His nose complimented them so well.

"I'm a big fan of this combo here" you said as your finger traced the side of his glasses, He looked up at you with the smallest cheesy smirk he always does. "You like it?" he said cheekily as you nodded, "I love it" you said in a more teasingly voice. His cheeks a faint pink as his hand met the outside of your thigh, "Yeahhh?" he hummed as his lips met yours. You giggled due to him towering on top of you. His hands met all over your waist until you both heard the door shutting.

Your lips parted from each other suddenly as you got up from the couch knowing it was Martin.

"We'll continue this later." Hamzah winked as you rolled your eyes jokingly pushing him off you as you made your way to a seat behind the camera.

"Hey guyss!" Martin wiggled his fingers in the air as he set his laptop down and his backpack. They both set up for the pod as you were practically controlling the camera. Because the fact you were here almost everyday, you slowly were taught how to use their equipment. You were able to record properly, sort of fix technical issues, and open software's to edit.

"Alright babe, ready?" Hamzah asked as he sat beside Martin. You threw your thumbs up as he nodded.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" Hamzah said into the Microphone as he jokingly snorted pushing his glasses up as Martin laughed at his reference.

You laughed behind the camera.

"Dude have they seen you in this Combo here on the pod?" Martin questioned as he pointed out Hamzah's glasses. "No actually they haven't." He looked at the Camera as he noticed your smile.

"Actually I think I was posted up in this exact outfit on Valentines Day!" He laughed as Martin scoffed, "Ah hell nahhh..." he backed up a bit from Hamzah. "Honestly to be fair it actually doesn't look bad. With and without the glasses It suits you man- the blonde." Martin explained as Hamzah nodded. "It's always a little experiment I've been wanting to do. I was just super bored one day." He spoke into the mic, "Actually not even like an Hour ago y/n said she likes what's going on here" he said circling around his face with his finger as he raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah it's not to bad at all" Martin added into the topic as Hamzah rambled about how it was something you were gonna hate.

"And guess what, she ended up LOVING it" He explained as Martin nodded. "Yeah Honestly Mandy didn't really care, plus we told her like months before so yeah.". Cluelessly they name dropped like crazy. It was like if you weren't even there or as if the Camera wasn't even recording.

"And that is it slushies. Make sure to go subscribe to us AND the patreons to have full access to the documentaries and Hamzah's exclusive podcast only on patreon! Okay byee!" Martin and Hamzah both waved at the Camera.

You all decided to order food and chill out in the office. You were sitting on the chair beside Hamzah of course and you skipped through the middle of the episode after they were done name dropping. "I'll finish if you want y/n, I'll continue at home." Martin offered editing the rest of the podcast as you agreed too.

It was as a couple hours later after releasing the new episode of the podcast. You woke up to a bunch of notifications on Hamzah's phone. You sat up from the cozy bed as he was still sound asleep. You reached for his phone and unlocked it, You saw the most jaw dropping message ever.

Martin: They know about Y/n...

Your heart dropped to your feet as you read the message. You didn't wanna wake up your peacefully sleeping boyfriend but it was something he was scared about revealing too.

"Babe! Wake up!" you shook him as he groaned in response as he slightly opened his eyes. You pressed on the messages as he read it with his eyes barely opened. After reading the message his eyes widened like crazy. He quickly got up as he grabbed the phone from you texting Martin back urgently.

"Did I do something?" you said lowly as he placed his hand on your lower back, "No of course not princess, It was Martin or one of our editors...I dunno'". He said calling Martin. He opened his socials to see your Instagram everywhere. He expected this day to come eventually and he was obviously planning on revealing you to his fans but this was the most unplanned way.

You looked over at Hamzah who seemed stress every time his finger swiped down on his phone. He placed his phone down as he took a deep breath.

"Well, I guess your free from being anonymous!" He said in a defeated tone as you looked at him un-amused. "Look I'm sorry if it was too quick baby I'm really sorry." He grabbed your hand as he kissed your hands. "It's okay I just can't believe it!" you said in shock as you felt naked in a way. Later on a ton of people's speculation and rumors became true. Obviously not specifically you but the 'dating since high school' thing was definitely a score in a bunch of people. Since then, you've finally had the liberty to be able to make cute videos with Hamzah, appear in videos, and even be in Mandy's vlogs. It definitely was a relief at the end of the day.

-

I hope you guys enjoy! Lowk confident abt this one ;)

[amphitriteswife]

Romance

Pairing: Raphael x Apostle reader

Source: killer peter

Warnings: implied yandere

Tagging: @kinaoryi

.

.

.

‘You called boss?’ Raphael turned his head to look at you. A playful yet empty smirk plastered on his lips. ‘Apostle Matthew and Judas already went. So sorry!’ Raphael watched you closely, curious as to how you would react, his lips pressed against his wine glass. He had deliberately called you here to order you to be the next one to go after Peter, yet he had ordered Judas and Matthew to do the same thing, just a little earlier. His hazel eyes pierce into your form. What will you do? Will you get angry at him? Perhaps even insult him? He’s dying to know! You’re always so..stoic and indifferent. He wants to see you break…only for him. ‘If that’s the case i’m assuming i’m dismissed?’ Raphael placed his wine glass down. His eyes still looking over at you. He’s almost naked. Yet you’re still not staring at his body. Why? Don’t you think he’s attractive? ‘Don’t be a bummer. Join me.’ Raphael watches your form sit down on the couch his eyes following your every move. He had been suspicious of you ever since you had taken an interest in the whole case with Peter. Usually you obeyed him, you did only what he asked of you. Nothing less, but also nothing more. Now however you did your own research. Did you like Peter? Why Peter but not him? It makes him a little irritated…but that’s okay. As long as he can keep you for the night he’ll be fine for the next few weeks… ‘have you had dinner yet?’ The question was pretty random…and weird. He never seemed interested in your daily life until some months ago. ‘I have not.’ The answer made him hum. His eyes focused on the big screen, he was watching some gruesome movie. It was weird, almost everything he did was always so morbid. A creepy smile plastered on his face when someone in the film was brutally murdered.

‘Would you like something to eat? Perhaps a steak?’ He wondered if you’d accept. Should he drug you? No..no you would notice that…would you? Rapheal waved his hand. Signaling you to come closer, and without a doubt you obliged. ‘I don’t eat steak.’ Ah…you’re denying his offer once again. First it was you refusing to go to his office. Then the refusal of his gifts. Then it was the fact you started being interested in Peter. You’re making him quite irritated dear. You noticed the subtle change in Raphael’s demeanor but brushed it off. That was until a fork with a piece of steak was brought to your lips. ‘Open.’ Your eyes glancing towards the steak and then back at Raphael. You shifted back a little. ‘I don’t eat stake boss. Religious reasons.’ Raphael blinked. Religious? He didn’t know that before. It’s certainly not mentioned in your documents…and didn’t he see you eat that with Thaddeus before? So you’re lying to him….aren’t you? Ouch. ‘Close your eyes and part your lips.’ A rather wide smirk appeared on his lips when you obeyed him. Good. Very good. You’re at least still obeying him. When your vision was all black, there was still nothing against your lips. No bloody steak. That was until you suddenly felt a soft sensation of warm wind. It smelled like wine…and cologne. Raphael. Your eyes fluttered a little which made Raphael click his tongue. ‘No looking.’ You furrowed your eyebrows. Parting your lips again. You felt suspicious, very suspicious of Raphael…but he had always been like that. He’s playful yet sadistic…you shouldn’t let your guard down. You took a few breaths..just to calm you down.

In one swift motion you were pushed back onto the couch, Raphael’s mouth onto yours on a forceful kiss with his tongue intertwining with yours. You opened your eyes a hard thud was heard in the room. The servant who was cleaning up Raphael’s glass watched the scene in shock. You slapped him. ‘That hurt darling.’ Raphael said, his hand gently touching his cheek. ‘I-i’m sorry boss….’ Rapheal looked at you with wide eyes, the yellow colored pupils drilling into your soul. A slight smirk made its way to his lips…finally. A reaction out of you after all that indifference…but..since you slapped him anyway. He can just milk the situation. ‘Are you? Are you really sorry?…prove it’ Raphael watched you stare at him. Yes, stare even more. Stare at his body. He wore these clothes for you. You like that right? You like seeing him out of his work clothes? Gaze upon him like you would have if it was Peter…Raphael grabbed your hand. Grazing it over his toned body, making sure you feel every smooth piece of skin. ‘Come on…i’m waiting darling.’ He guided your hand into his comfortable sweatpants. Ah…your hand is so soft and warm. It makes him hard. Rock hard even. His head leaned back onto the sofa. ‘Touch me more.’ Raphael released your hand to let you touch him on his own…he had waited so long for you to touch him. He didn’t care of you did it willingly or not. All he wants is you to touch him. To feel him. To be as crazy about him like he is to you. Rapheal ground against your hand. He wonders what you think now that you find out he isn’t wearing any boxers. His eyes dart down to his bulge. The outline of your hand stroking him in his pants makes him shiver. He thought about things like this almost everyday. Do you like it as much as he likes it?…he feels so exited. Ah. He might just bust from the images in his mind. He can already picture you kissing him. Touching him like you are now. Pushing him onto the bed. Your mouth around his cock. His hands playing with your nipples. Your body moving up and down his dick. Ah he can’t take it. He wants it. All of it. He wants you to want him. Ah…he can already imagining you telling him how much you love him. That you want to be with him. How you’d rather be with him than Peter or be an Apostle. Raphael threw his head back, his body shivering and a loud grunt escaping his lips. Ugh…his pants are all sticky now. His eyes watched you closely as you pulled your hand out his pants. His eyes glaring at your face…you’re indifferent again. Why? Didn’t you like it? It makes him so angry that you’re not reacting to him…say something. Look disgusted. Anything! But you’re not doing anything at all…you’re just wiping your hand…fine. Fine you win..but next time..next time he’ll have you. His voice is much colder now…way colder than usual. ‘You’re dismissed’

[shegatsby]

Hey! Hope you are doing okay! I just had this big angsty idea that I wanted to share if ur interested. So you know how in the show when Hannibal was with Alana, he'd use her as an alibi whenever she'd sleep over?

Ya, so what if Hannibal and the reader (preferably a lady but it doesn't explicitly matter) are in a romantic relationship, and he does that. One night, he comes home in the dead of the night and finds her in his living room either super angry or absolutely devastated because she thinks Hannibal is cheating on her. Like she has no idea he's a murderer at all. Does Hannibal confess? Does he somehow smooth talk himself out of this situation? I have to know!

A/N: Hey! I am back baby!! I hope you’ll like this one, i really loved the idea. Bye 😘

Hannibal slowly opened the entrance door and walked in, his took off his boots so that they won’t make a sound and wake you up. Little did he know that you were already awake, waiting for him with weary expression and damp cheeks, your eyes were red from crying. He saw the fireplace lit, decided to go to the living room to pour himself a drink, tonight wasn’t an easy one, he had to get rid of someone that had clues about his murders, if they lived Will and Jack would solve the murder and he would end up in jail. For life, and he didn’t want that, not just because of his lavish lifestyle, now that you were engaged to him he had responsibility towards you. He had made a commitment and he intended to keep it. Leaving you all alone didn’t sit right with him at all. He pushed the ajar door and found you sitting by the fire, your back turned, “Y/N?” He didn’t expect you to be awake, it was almost dawn.

You bolted to your feet, you were in your short lingerie dress, black, hair loose, face puffy, why were you crying?

“Where were you?!” Your voice sharp like a whip, and Hannibal understood your accusation immediately.

“Darling I-“ he began calmly but he was startled because he was cut in the middle of his speech, “How could you?!” Her voice getting louder, you walked up to him in anger, “I trusted you,” you pushed him with all of your strength, “After years I finally trusted someone,” you started to slap his chest, he was like a statue, unmoving. “How could you?!” You screamed this time.

Hannibal kept his calm, you were assuming things and as you should because to be honest if you were the one who would disappear in the middle of the night and come back like nothing happened he would stalk you and find out what you were up to and if it was a cheating situation… he knew very well that he would torture and kill the man, however, when it came to you… he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger. It was funny to him, you had no idea the effect you had on him.

He held your hands, “Darling, shh, listen, listen to me.” He got you to stop screaming but you were crying.

He looked at you, to see if you could handle the truth or not…

In this emotional state you would probably have a heart attack so he had to come up with a solid lie.

“My patient, Margot Verger was hospitalized.” He began, you had met Margot before when you brought lunch to his office and you had a nice chat with her.

You stopped for a second, “Since they’re a powerful family you can’t find it in the news. They asked for my input about her mental state so I had to go.”

He was very calculated, you exhaled the breath you held, his calm manner made you observe his face, he was determined. “I would never do that you. Can’t even bring myself to say the word, Y/N,” he held your damp cheeks, hating the fact that he caused this on you. “I love you. I know it wasn’t easy to gain your trust and do you believe I would treat it lightly?”

You were much more calmer now, “Hannibal,” you began but he leaned in for a passionate kiss, every time he came back from a kill all he wanted to do was to have you, in a raw way. He even sometimes woke you up in the middle of the night with a hard on.

You kissed him back, letting him guide you to the table near, his plump lips ravishing yours.

As he broke the kiss he made you bend over with a swift move, it made you yelp, he grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, “After your disgusting accusation did you really believe that I would let you go, little one?”

You shivered with anticipation, he lifted the skirts f your lingerie dress, a harsh spank landed on your bare ass. You screamed in pain, “Oh darling, when I’m done with you I guess I have to carry you in my arms anywhere.” He whispered in your ear.

[scuderia-piastri]

networking

✮⋆˙summary: two moments where red has managed to bond with her fellow drivers, and one moment where she hasn’t (sort of)

✮⋆˙warnings: google translated spanish because i don’t speak spanish (duo is rolling in his grave), stupid fia regulations, danica patrick, pierre’s hair (or lack thereof)

✮⋆˙a/n: took a while but motivation struck at 4 am and who am i to ignore it after it ghosted me for weeks on end? also, thank you so much to my friends @foreveralbon and @vroomvroomcircuit for helping with this one !! <3

rrcsav masterlist

one

sitting in the stewards office, red’s eyes darted around to whatever her vision could focus on. plaques, posters, clocks, anything. next to her, franco stared straight ahead with not a single thought behind his eyes. and nobody could blame them, because the stewards office was definitely the last place either of them wanted to be at the moment.

but the rules were written, and no matter how unfair they were, the two drivers couldn’t avoid a summons to the stewards office for their “derogatory remarks about the FIA” at the press conference. at least the other drivers found them funny. hell, even lewis gave red a pat on the back and said not to worry. still, she doubted the team would be too happy about the fact that their new driver was about to be the first to receive a fine for the new regulations.

“so,” the steward sitting directly in front of her started the conversation, glancing down at his notes. “mr. colapinto, you and ms-“ he hesitated.

“red is fine.” she replied automatically, not bothering to wait for him to attempt to pronounce her last name.

the steward nodded. “during the press conference, you two stated that you think the new regulations were ‘unnecessary and an insult to the drivers’ rights to free speech’. i assume you both have read through the regulations of this year, and understand why the FIA has deemed them necessary?” he looked to franco.

“lo siento, no hablo inglés, no entiendo qué dices.” franco replied immediately, to which red, as well as the stewards, gave him a strange look. franco returned the look with one of his own, signaling to her to play along. (sorry, i don’t speak english, i don’t understand what you’re saying.)

getting the hint, she bit back a smile and turned to the stewards. “kya? mujhe aapka bhaat nahi samhaj tah hain. aap hamase baat kya kaarana chaahate hain?” (what? i don’t understand you. what did you want to talk to us about?)

the men in front of them looked at each other uncomfortably. “everyone-”

“estoy un poco cansado de esta reunión, tal vez deberíamos irnos ahora.” (i’m getting a bit tired of this meeting, maybe we should leave now.)

“vaah, ye office kya sundar hain. ise kon banaaya?” (wow, this office is so pretty. who made it?)

“maybe we should all go, practice should be starting soon.” the man on the far right decided, setting his notes down. “you can have a warning, this speech won’t be tolerated next time. you’re free to go.”

“ah, gracias!” franco beamed, looking at red in success.

two

“i mean, just look at how she’s performed so far. you could claim it’s the lack of experience or because she’s a rookie, but oliver bearman, an f2 driver at the time, stepped into a ferrari in 2024 on short notice on a very difficult track and still managed to finish ahead of lewis hamilton himself. let’s face it, the girl is not ready.”

red stood and watched the footage with her arms crossed. she hadn’t done as bad as danica was making it seem at all, and it wasn’t fair. of course she was behind lewis, she was a goddamn rookie up against a seven time world champion for christ’s sake.

“she talks quite a lot, doesn’t she?” ollie remarked, coming up behind red and crossing his arms as well. “she seems to have a great tendency to twist data to be in her favor and leave out important bits.”

“that’s a great way to put it.” red scoffed. “for a woman, she sure talks like she hates every other one trying to get into the sport.”

“more the reason not to pay her any attention.” ollie shrugged, turning to face red. “you did a good quali, by the way. that squeeze into q3 at the last minute after the botched strategy was impressive. i just have one question.”

she smiled back at him. “thanks, you did great too. what’s the question?”

“kimi and i have a little bet. did you and franco really manage to talk your way out of a penalty from that press conference?”

three

“no, no, i’m not saying it’s bad. i’m just saying…” red titled her head. “is flavio making you do this? do you really need to spare all the weight from the car that you can?”

pierre shot her a glare in return. “no-”

“you have to admit it’s weird to outside eyes! both you and jack just seemingly shaved your heads at the same time. if this is a call for help-”

“oh mon dieu, i don’t have time for this.”

francisca.cgomes

francisca.cgomes ❤️

redracing OH MY GOD YOURE GORGEOUSSSS

redracing oh my god pierre’s hair….

⬑ pierregasly …🤨?

⬑ redracing no, it’s nice… it’s… wow!

⬑ pierregasly Isn’t it past your bedtime?

landonorris the hair, mate 😂

⬑ redracing lots of talking for someone who looks like they walked out of a old time western saloon with that mullet

⬑ landonorris you were literally just making fun of him too!

⬑ redracing okay yeah and that was ME what’s your excuse

⬑ landonorris okay ms “had to pretend to forget english to get out of a penalty last week”

⬑ charlesleclerc lando be nice

⬑ landonorris what did i do ????

⬑ redracing thanks… dad?

⬑ oscarpiastri oh new sibling. cool. welcome to the family.

⬑ maxverstappen charles stop adopting the rookies we have too many

taglist: @sid-is-gr8 @mellowarcadefun @justadesirebel @foreveralbon @inchidentofftrack @demvnsriot

[whitehairandtraumatized-bracket]

White Hair and Trauma Preliminary 8: Ace Attorney

Simon had 3 submissions, Enoch had one submission

trauma and propaganda under the cut!

Trauma!

Simon: “Simon is learning analytical psychology under Metis Cykes at the Space Center, while working on a case of The Phantom. One day once he finally got a lead, he finds Metis dead with her 11 year old daughter (Athena) covered in blood trying to fix her with Metis's robot fixing machine. He then smuggled Athena out of the building and took the blame for the murder. He was then imprisoned for 7 years. Then while still imprisoned he was allowed to return to prosecuting under the supervision of Detective Bobby Fullbright who he starts to get along with, only to learn that Fullbright was dead and that he was actually the Phantom who had killed his mentor.”

“My guy saw his mentor (Metis)'s corpse and right next to her daughter who very happily explained that mentor was "broken" and that she was going to "fix" her by ripping her body apart and putting it back together like you would with a robot. Simon didn't want the little girl to be found guilty of murdering Metis, despite the fact that it everything indicated that she did and he internally believed it as well. So to protect her, he confessed to murdering Metis, and was given the DEATH PENALTY for it. He got his white streak from the stress of being in prison and on death row for 7 years, while simultaneously trying to take to the grave what he witnessed that day. Oh did I mention that he feels responsible for Metis's death, because she was assisting him in tracking down a spy and got the singular piece of evidence towards this spy's identity? And he later learns it was this exact spy who murdered her to protect their identity—and also framed the little girl from before for a completely different murder they did, potentially rendering his sacrifice moot?”

“His mentor got assassinated when she helped him track an international spy, and he spent seven years in prison because he didn't want her daughter (who was eleven at the time) to be accused. Then, when he regained the right to prosecute even as a convict, the officer he was assigned to turned out to be the same spy who'd ruined his life.”

Enoch: Enoch was a genius science student who moonlit as a graverobber to afford staying in university. One night he witnesses a (supposedly) executed serial killer crawl out of his grave, and his hair turns white from terror.

Propaganda!

Simon:

He is able to slice people down with a feather and HE HAS A PET HAWK THAT HE WILL USE TO ATTACK PEOPLE AND ALSO BUY GROCERIES. He also helps one of the main characters calm down when she has a mental breakdown bc he may be a deathrow inmate, but he cares so much <3

He has a hawk

Enoch: In a series where characters having white or pink or purple hair isn’t rare, Enoch’s long white hair at first just evokes a cold, stylish feeling, suiting his grim look and mechanical mannerisms. It’s a twist when it’s actually explained as a result of trauma and that he’s secretly a tragic figure.

[bloogers-boogers]

Human AU

Alastor intensively staring at Adam.

Lucifer: the fuck are you looking at?

It’s been almost a year since he aimed his next target to the high-school’s popular jock guy’s boyfriend. Alastor was not in any way fond of Lucifer Morningstar. He despised that pretentious fucker.

“You better not be looking at my booty.”

Adam rolled his eyes, used to his boyfriend’s overly jealous behavior, “babe, you’re doing it again.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re that hot that I must protect you at all times from being sexualized by perverts.”

Lucifer steps closer to Adam, cornering him against the lockers, a hand against a locker, arm stretched out while indifferently back facing Alastor; a foolish attempt for blocking Alastor’s point of view. With his diminutive structure it was quite impossible. He could see Adam just fine.

Lucifer had quite a fame during their elementary and middle school years, stuck in scandals here and there from being a trouble maker, to a homeworker to being a backstabbing friend. He was caught in various rumors from stealing his best friend’s girlfriend to stealing the other, from fucking a teacher to stealing from the principal’s office and taking his father’s car to a concert. The only rumors being confirmed of being true was taking his ex girlfriend Lilith from his ex best friend Adam. It was quite the shocker to all, that in the end of their middle school years Lucifer Morningstar had also taken Adam, the guy he backstabbed and also took his girlfriends away. No one knew how can a guy like Adam, after being done all that, still, was capable to take Lucifer. Unlike his previous two relationships, none ended well for Lucifer. But surprisingly with Adam, their relationship has kept strong, it seemed he had been taking it much more seriously compared to the other two and had mellowed down in their first year of high school. Though he’s still the same pretentious asshole to Alastor. And for Alastor’s luck he had history with Lucifer Morningstar. He hated the guy’s guts.

They knew each other since they were little. He firstly met Lucifer Morningstar at their old preschool down town. Lucifer was a wealthy boy, everyone loved him and he was quite the star student back in those early days. Alastor on the contrary was middle class, nothing out of the ordinary to the other kids, not too smart not too dumb either, blended well with the crowd but wanted to be star of the show. He was quite competitive which naturally lead him to compete with Lucifer (another competitive kid) all the time. No one would think they would become friends but they did. Lucifer wasn’t all that bad when he was a spoiled toddler. Nowadays however Alastor would say otherwise. Alastor as a preschool child had wanted to play the main role for a play since the teacher had first announced it, to his dismay Lucifer was given the role and that of-course pissed and upset Alastor, Lucifer had seen this and felt bad; giving him the role saying “it was for losers anyways” and as much as the other boy took offense to this Alastor took it anyways. Somehow from then they became friends. UNTIL. They hit first grade. Lucifer immediately glued himself to Adam on their first day of school. A weird little boy that loved to talk endlessly about animals, telling facts and a lot more based from information and research his father would teach him; who he claimed was a zoologist which is were he got the interest and love for animals from. Lucifer had ended up gifting him a duck plushy for Adam’s birthday and the little boy was stuck to Lucifer’s hip ever since. Lucifer completely forgetting about Alastor. Adam was also a huge baby in elementary school, Lucifer would often stick up for him whenever any of the other kids tried bullying him or start calling him names, he LOVED playing the hero, and Adam loved playing the villain and victim. It worked well for them. Adam would sometimes get to caught up in his own act that he’d get someone else in trouble for his own little mischief. And not say a word to avoid getting in trouble. Alastor would see the whole thing. Almost a shadow to those two boys.

The Adam Alastor currently knew was far more different than the blabber mouth bratty-crybaby-kid he once knew. He was also a team player of the football team (Lucifer was from the basketball team), a jock at best, very vulgar and nasty mouthed on the fields but once hitting school grounds it’s like the guy changes masks and turns to a ‘example to follow’, current class president and straight A+ student, he was a teacher’s pet in lesser words. He LOVED following orders. But he was also a bully. Unlike Lucifer who had reasons to hate someone, Adam does it for attention, but everyone knew he would fold the moment he gets himself in trouble with the principal or his parents. Apologizing and doing anything to make up for it. Not wanting to be looked down at from his superiors. Unlike his boyfriend that was too stubborn and prideful to apologize at all cost, not caring what they thought of him.

Alastor managed to failed one of his classes and the teacher offered him to be given tutoring lessons from Adam, a perfect opportunity to get closer to the guy.

Alastor had been planning to kill Adam for a while. Watching his every move, memorizing his schedule, taking in all information he can from the guy. From who he hangs out with to who he last texted to. This desire to take out the young man all surged from Lucifer calling him out as a freak in-front of the whole school at an assembly. This only encouraged Alastor to hit where it hurt the most. Which was currently his precious boyfriend.

The past month he’s gotten to learn a lot about Adam. He wasn’t that bad to hang around with and was genuinely very smart. He also figured out why it was easy for Adam to get good grades, the guy was a quick learner he picked up a subject immediately like it was second nature for him after just reading a few pages or one lecture. He had his notes organized, naming them by things he liked claiming it was an easier tactic for him to “get the memo”. Only Adam could understand his own tricky methods of studying.

Lucifer of-course did not like the arrangement from the very beginning. Jealous by nature, skeptical from feeling. Alastor of-course had expected that to happen, so he came prepared for anything. However he couldn’t prevent Lucifer from sticking around their study sessions or following Adam around like a love-struck puppy, waiting for him to drive him back home or dropping him off to the class Adam and Alastor would usually meet up in to study. Lucifer made sure Adam was always never alone, safe and comfortable whenever he left him with Alastor. He did NOT trust Alastor. He never let Adam go to Alastor’s house to study, it was either a classroom while Lucifer was stuck in the fields practicing or at a public place.

It was like Lucifer was on his every move, and honestly, it impressed Alastor to a certain point.

“Lucifer, you promised you’ll try to not smoother me,” Adam lightly scolded as he gently blew a strand of Lucifer’s hair outta of the way from covering the blonde’s blue eyes.

“It’s not smothering you when I’m protecting you,” Lucifer defended as he smirked and grabbed Adam from his hips, making him move closer. Adam rolled his eyes with the biggest smile and a light chuckle.

Alastor rolled his eyes, walking away from the sickening display of affection of the two. However he stopped, slickly hiding behind a corner after overhearing something that caught his attention; Adam telling Lucifer something very interesting and useful.

“You should leave early today, I’ll be fine. Don’t wait for me.”

“I can’t. I don’t trust that guy.”

“Alastor is obnoxious at best not some crazy serial killer. Relax, babe, go visit your brother at the hospital. He needs your support more than anything right now.”

“… I know, but there’s just something off about him! I can’t pinpoint what it is..”

“You said Michael would have his surgery today didn’t you?”

“…” a long pause.

“Go.”

“Adam.. please be careful okay? Call me if anything!”

Alastor could literally hear the loud sound of a goodbye smooch on the cheek before the sound of squeaky sneakers; running from a distance was heard.

Alastor smiled wide. This was it. Lucifer finally left Adam completely alone. This was his chance to get Adam once and for all.

[cagenewman]

Intimacy between them had always come so easily, felt natural. From the first time until the last time, he had always felt at ease with her, had never hesitated to show her what he liked, to let her guide him through what she wanted in return. The last thing that Cage wanted was for that to be altered in any way, for either of them to feel like sex was something that they needed to think about only in terms of numbers and figures and dates on a calendar. "I don't want to have sex with you because we have to meet a deadline or … well, because we have to, period, I want to have sex with you because I love you," and that was the bottom line. Cage's gaze dropped from her face to her body, dragging low for a moment before he flicked his gaze back up to her face and let out a half laugh, because he had liked it, too. More than he had wanted to let on; it wasn't that he was restrained with her, it wasn't that he held back, she wouldn't want him to, but it had been something tense and something passionate, and he knew that they had both enjoyed themselves, but it didn't mean that he wanted to think of their child being created in a fit of anger, in a moment of uncertainty, even if it wouldn't have changed the love that he held for them. "We can have hot, rough sex any time you want, just … maybe without the broken lamp and knife play." That last part was a joke -- even if he had used the knife to take her dress off. He didn't have to be angry with her to give her what she wanted. "Logically, I know that. It's something that happens, but in the moment, finding that out, it's all I could think about, you know? That I did this, I put too much stress on you, on the situation, that's why I want to make sure when we do this, when we try, we don't stress out about it." Trying for a baby should be fun -- of course there were going to be moments of disappointment and worry, that was a part of life, too, but he wanted to enjoy the process, wanted to look back on this time in their life with fondness and warmth. "I think I was less upset with the fact that you were pregnant and more upset with the fact that I wasn't there for you," he admitted quietly, shrugging one shoulder, "and it just…" he lifted his free hand and snapped, "I knew I had to be, for you and our baby." And once that feeling had settled into his chest, it hadn't gone away, not when he made her those muffins, not when he started thinking about changing their office into a nursery, and not when they were told that there wouldn't be a baby. Everything had changed the day that she had put that test on his desk, and it had only solidified when it changed again in that doctor's office. "Alright," he laughed, nodding his head, "I'll do the heavy labor, you gals write up the score cards. She's an incredibly harsh critic, black cats have the most ridiculous attitude, you know that?" But he wouldn't have changed her for anything.

Swaying with the shove, Cage let out a louder, more jovial laugh, swinging back around to wrap his arm around her, pulling her into his side. "Doesn't matter, I'll be there," he said with certainty, nodding his head. Whether she was going to be sick every morning, or spend her days longing for the sweetest, most sugary foods that she could get her hands on, Cage would get her anything that she needed. Do whatever she wanted. There was a certain level of excitement to his voice as he looked down at her again. "You'll have a bump," which, duh, of course she would. But for some reason, it just hit him that she wouldn't be his ex-girlfriend that he ducked down the grocery aisle to avoid when he saw her pregnant years ago in their small town. It wouldn't just be a photograph in an album, something she pointed out to him on lazy, rainy afternoons. But Cordelia would have a bump, a belly, she would be growing their son or daughter in there as she baked brownies for Cienna's class, or helped Rosalyn pick flowers from the garden. But he couldn't think about that, couldn't let himself get that distracted -- the boys. They had to talk to the boys first, that was where he put his thoughts. "Shawn had Cienna, and Colton's been amazing with Archie, whenever he's around him," he pointed out with a nod. Sure, he might have teased Lucie about dirty diapers and messy burps whenever he spent time with his cousin, but he still was so gentle and careful with him as a newborn that Cage didn't worry about that. "It'll be… a lot to take on, adding a baby to a family with four kids, but I think we can do it. I just -- I need you to remind me sometimes that I can do it. I don't doubt that you can do it," he let out a soft laugh, "but unless you want my whole head to go gray…" he wasn't quite ready for that experience just yet. But they didn't need to worry about how much money a baby was going to cost when they were shopping. Ironically. That would come later. Until then, jewelry. "Mhm," he agreed with a nod, temporarily distracted by the smell of her hair as it brushed against his nose, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and then looking at the pieces in the case. Raising a brow as Cordelia said that she wanted something pre-1940s, Cage was impressed, though he kept that to himself as he watched the exchange, talking when prompted, mostly letting his wife and the attendant speak as he stepped to the side to examine a few pieces himself. Each ring that Cordelia tried on, he had some sort of comment for, a thumbs up or a thumbs down, interested, but wanting it to be her decision until he saw the look on her face, the way that she picked up her hand just enough to catch the light, turning it so that the diamonds shone. He didn't need to ask Cordelia if she wanted it, didn't bother to put it to a question as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, holding the card out with a low laugh. Cage knew his wife by now, far too well. "She'll take it."

There was almost a relief in Cage's eyes when she said she wasn't going to make this into some kind of thing they planned every single bit of. Maybe if they hadn't conceived in six months to a year they would consider talking to a fertility doctor and tracking at least ovulation but there was no need to go that way until they had to. They had the knowledge to know that Cordelia could get pregnant, it was just more about being the right time and hoping that it actually stuck around. Everything he said made sense, "No I get it, I don't want sex to become a business transaction, something we're strictly doing to get me pregnant. Kind of takes the fun out of it and I don't think we need to do that when we have a pretty great sex life as it is." Which was true, why ruin a good thing? Giving a roll of her eyes, "I didn't mind the bruises on my thighs and hips, I liked it." Looking at him a grin tugging at her lips, "I mean it, I enjoyed it, more than I wanted to admit because I was angry, but angry sex, kinda hot. Maybe a lot hot." she pointed out, because it kind of was, "And it's not some sadistic karma that caused all of this, it was the fact that my body wasn't ready to be pregnant. Maybe stress played a factor into it but no one knows the exact reasons, it wasn't like I fell, it wasn't like I got hurt or did anything crazy it just wasn't the right time. There's nothing wrong with how our first would have been conceived but I get wishing you had been more excited and I won't pretend that I wished you had been happier but I also understand that you weren't there yet." It was hard that for him to realize what he wanted he had to lose that very thing and then have to live with it as much as she did, only experience a different type of guilt feeling. Though neither one of them were guilty of anything. They had done their best with what they had been given, and now moving forward all they could do was try and hope for the best and that it wouldn't become a stressor to them personally or their marriage. Honestly, Cordelia was just happy that Cage was opening up about how he was feeling and everything that had been on his mind. Maybe getting away from Merrock for their anniversary had been the best thing, a place to openly talk away from everything, memories and just get it all out on the table and now look where they were? Communication was at least far better right now, not that she didn't expect there to be hiccups at times. "I can promise you that you will not catch me attempting to pick up hay bales prior to getting pregnant either." After losing the pregnancy so early she wasn't going to risk doing anything too crazy in case she got pregnant, and like what happened didn't know and cause any potential issues, but she also knew she'd go about a lot of her normal every day life like she had before. "Think that sounds fair, Twix and I will give you scores on how good you are at moving the bales, I'll get her her own little score board too." she offered a grin pulling to her lips, "But remember she may love you but she's a harsh critic."

Reaching out she shoved him gently, "Oh shut up, I could have cravings without being pregnant." Which was very true, Cordelia loved food and there was always a chance something could pop up in her mind that she would want, and it didn't mean she was pregnant. "Just buckle in, that's all I'm saying, because who knows I could have wicked cravings, or I could be horribly sick and threaten you to keep all food far, far away from me." Might sound a lot like her saying keep it out of the house and dramatics being her favorite form of emotions she might come up with some kind of crazy thought of get rid of it all, but she wouldn't actually mean it. They had four kids to keep fed, two of which were growing teenage boys that she was convinced were actually trying to eat them out of house and home. "No I agree, I was worried about telling them." When she had been expecting, the way her gut would drop remembering they had to break the news in a way that was kind of like, well here this is, without even having a conversation that they had or hadn't been considering this. Talk about the worst proof of non-safe sex to say it just happened to two teenage boys. "Know that that is where we're at that we can give this new little one, when he or she is ready to you know.... happen, the love and time they deserve. Deep down I think Colton and Shawn would love to have a baby sibling, I know Colton got to be around Rosalyn once she was almost a year old but think he would have enjoyed her as a baby baby, and like you said, Shawn loved having Cienna." she pointed out, maybe it wouldn't go so bad if they pointed out the fact that it was because of the four of them and how much love they proved in their family that gave them the ability to know one last child would be given that same amount of love, respect, and care needed. As she saddled up towards the few cases of jewelry it didn't take long to feel Cage behind, press up against her slightly, hands on her hips. "You know I've always loved the idea of a vintage piece, something that had history even if we don't know the history." Of course her ring was technically going to eventually fall into that category given it had been his mother's diamond. A woman approached them with a soft 'hello' and how could she help them. "Oh we're just looking, we're here on vacation for our anniversary and I kind of wanted to take a peek at a few things special maybe." The woman was kind and generous, asking them how long they had been married, them taking turns to explain the finer parts of their relationship from high school to reuniting, maybe leaving out their difficultly at first reconnecting and the whole soup debacle. "I was hoping to look at some bands maybe? For my left hand. Something antique, maybe pre-1940's if you have anything?" The woman nodding happily before returning with two trays of rings. "Oh!" Cordelia's eyes sparkling seeing all the pretty rings in front of her, definitely obvious that they were dated given the looks of some of them. Trying on a bunch the woman took the time again to explain each ring, the period it was from, Cordelia holding her hand up for Cage to see, knowing he was mostly there to oh and ah, before she picked up a particular ring, this one slipping onto her finger with ease. The woman explained it was from the 1920's, with miners cute diamonds, 7 to be exactly, and Cordelia knew it, the second it fit on her finger and held it up, the seven stones sparkling in the light, she had fallen in love.

[sully-s]

Okay so I can't stop thinking about a Cloverfield AU where Edgeworth has to save Trudy who's miles across town because she was getting a surprise gift for Phoenix and Edgeworth is the only one who knows where she and the phones are down.

And in this, Trudy doesn't know Edgeworth very well and doesn't like him very much. Put off by how stiff and blunt he can be.

But during the trials of getting back to Phoenix, she sees his other sides, and they bond with Trudy coming to the realization that Edgeworth might actually be the most competent adult in her life. (Like yeah Wright is a great dad because he gives lots of love but he's a bit hopeless sometimes and Trudy often feels like she has the be the gown up)

And like the idea of the conflict and safety that Turdy would have to internally battle with letting Edgeworth just be the adult and make sure she gets home. By the time they find Phoenix (who has a whole journey trying to find her), Trudy basically demands Phoneix marry Edgeworth and won't take any other optional moms or dads.

[coldjustness-archive]

Woke up thinking about Neve Gallus becoming more infamous than the family who left her behind.

[wavetapper]

do u guys like my new palico