#i am slightly late shhhh

[horrorgoof]

Happy 9th Birthday, Undertale!

[ghosts-to-reid]

Neo Gothic IV

Summary: Spencer invites you to stay with him whilst you are being targetted. The journey of emotions is one you did not expect.

A/N: IM SORRY ITS SO LATE I HAD SO MUCH WORK TO DO She isn't proofread but she is LONG so i hope you enoy!

18+ Series! Mentions of murder and death.

SPENCER REID REQUESTS ENCOURAGED AND WANTED

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Masterlist / Bibliography

Spencer hasn't left your side since he parked his car in the BAU's parking lot. A lingering gaze around the room as he guides you with a soft hand, ghosting your lower back. He sits you down on a plush chair in Hotch's office, sending Penelope to fetch tea whilst he briefs Hotch on what he thinks the next steps should be. Never straying further than 3 feet away.

Meanwhile, you were still in a state of terror induced silence.

The memeory of Spencer so methodically opening that box, his almost clinical response, as if this was a normal day for him. It scared you to death. Blinking away the image of the dead raven was nearly impossible as you stared, glazed eyes pointed to the rough grey carpet. The poems once macabre comfort, noe turned sour as the stanzas float through your mind, You'd analysed this poem to death. You know the meaning behind it, all thee knowledge you had on poe began to spin throigh your head like a whirlwhind, trying to find any other meaning in the words-

"Here." Spencer's soft voice broke you from your trance, blinking away the dryness behind your eyes, you gingerly take the tea from him, taking a small sip. Spencer is crouched before you, one hand on your knee as he casts a concerned gaze to you through a furrowed brow. Hotch had left at this point, leaving the pair of you alone whilst he organises the team.

After a moment, you finally broke the silence you had kept since your abject discovery.

"The poem... It's about love. But love of a twisted kind. One that persists after death..." Your pace began to pick up as all your previous thoughts come fourth "It's about how strong love can be, hell he climbs into her grave in the end, that's what a sepulchre is you know? a tomb. and he called me 'Sanguinary' that's bloodshed, like a lot- a lot of blood- Spencer- Oh my God, does that mean he want's to spill my blood- Oh my God"

By the end, you have begun a terror filled tyrade, with all your fear and adrenaline coming to the forefront and begging to wreck your body with stilted sobs, the threat of hyperventing . Spencer has leaned forward, grabbign the mug from your hand whilst softly shushing you. Placing his hands softly on your shoulders, he squeezes so slightly, trying to bring you back from the ledge.

"Shhhh... It's ok. We're going to figure this out. The team is going to look over everything again okay? Just breathe with me." Softly, he ran his hands downyour arms, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he took slow deep breathes with you. Eventually, your sobs have stilted, and your breath returns to a normal pace. Spencer holds your hands in his "It's going to be okay, You're safe. I promise."

"But... Where am I going to stay? My... My house is a crime scene, and I can't even go back because now i'm being targeted by some guy who liked Poe a bit too much!" Pulling your hands from his, you place your head in your hands in frustration, rubbing your temples to ease the stress headache that is threatening to pentrate your brain.

After a moment of silence, Spencer pulls your hands away from your face, oncemore holding them in his. "You can stay at my house, with me. And then we can go to work together, where you'll be safe, and then i'll be there to keep you safe, okay?" His thumb rubbed your hand softly, and after a minute of hesitation you nod. agreeing to stay with spencer seems like your safest option. A moment later, the intimate scene was interupted by Hotch, calling you to go with him. Spencer explains that now you were a target, they will need to interview you to find any possible suspects.

Spencer leaves you to go and work with Emily and Derek, Hotch guides you to an interogation room, explaining the setting is purely formality. Sitting across from the pair, you fumble with your ring nervously.

"Y/N, Is there anyone in your life that you may have noticed taking a particular intrest in you in the last 3 months? It might not be in any significant way, maybe small ways." Hotch asks, his brows furrowed with cocnern.

"Think about people in your classes, we know the unsub knows your interest in the gothic as a student, was there any faculty or students who you might have spoken to, maybe even had a study session with?" JJ's voice is soft, kind as she navigates you through the interview. Your thoughts flooded with interactions you have had the past 5 years with your classmates, any significant or not, shaking your head after a moment.

"No, I can't think of anything... I've not made many connections since... since my parents died... I moved here and went head first into my studies, I haven't particularly focused on friendships or relationships until now."

"It could be an interaction as small as you lending them notes. From what we can gather, this unsub has crafted this fantasy around you and your interests. Stalkers like this can be triggered by even the tiniest moment of kindness." Hotch gazes at you softly, calmly probing you for information. After another moment, a small memory emerges.

"There was this guy... Tyler Jones. He worked with me as a TA in my undergrad, we both study the field. He asked me out once but I said no... He didnt ask again so I forgot about it. But he was really into the gothic, almost more than me."

When you mentioned a name, JJ had Garcia run it. She quickly discovered that Tyler had been studying his masters in Texas. This revaltion shook you, and most of the team quickly moved to locate him. As the three of you went to leave, JJ held your shoulder, causing you to pause

"Where are you staying?" Her voice was kind, still carrying the soft tone that everyone seemed to be coddlying you with.

"Im staying with Spencer actually, he offered before." JJ gives you a small smile, and pats your arm softly

"I've never seen him take to someone so quickly." She smiles "He's never like this with anyone new." Confusion painted your features for a moment, and with her impressive profiling skills, she of course caught that.

"You know he's a big germaphobe right? I saw him comforting you before, do you know how long it took him to get comftorble enough for him to even give me a handshake?" She laughs lightly, causing a ghost of a smile to find your features. Spencer had never shown you any indication of that, obviously. It's doubtful you would've noticed if JJ hadn't just told you. Before the conversation could continue, Spencer joins you both

"Y/N, I'm going to take you back to my apartment. Emily and Garcia are going to yours to grab some things for you, but right now we don't need much else from you, so i convinced Hotch to let us go early, Only if that's ok with you!" He begins a ramble of his own about your options, causing you and JJ to share a look of amusment. You interupt him with a small nod of your head, and a goodbye to JJ before Spencer leads you away, gathering your things before taking you to his apartment

The car ride felt odd for some reason. Either the situation of some random psycho sending you dead birds, rife with symbolism of deadly obsession, but you chose to focus on the fact that this was odd because it was the first time you were going to Spencer's apartment, instead of yours.

The ride was relatively quiet until you had turned on the radio, settling for a station playing old rock. There was silence otherwise, but there was also no tension past the obvious, there was an ease of nature between you two.

Eventually pulling to the curb, he leads you to through the old building, and into his apartment. The place embodied Spencer, The dark green walls barley visible through the expanse of bookcases, that were still too little to hold the amount of books he owned, with the remainder littering any other surface that was possible. The ebony wood of his furniture absorbed most of the light, with Spencers solution being a small army of lamps illuminating any corners that were eclipsed. Coffee and Patchouli, the scent of old books all comforted you immediatly, and you momentarily forgot your woe in the warm embrace of the domestic life of Spencer Reid.

Guiding you to his worn leather sofa, spencer exits to make the two of you tea. The day had quickly gotten away from you, the horror of the raven, the terror of being targeted, made the hours fly by and you noticed the time was nearer to Dinner than lunch, and that reminder caused a surprisng growl to erupt from your stomach. Whipping around at the sound of a laugh, you spot Spencer holding two mugs of steaming tea, slowly moving towards the sofa

"I guess dinner is probably a good idea, considering we missed lunch in the panic" placing your mug in front of you, he takes the place beside you. Sipping from his cup whilst eyeing you, gaguing your mental state.

"We could order in? It'll be my treat, as a thank you." This was the first time you had spoken since arriving, not out of horror this time, but from simple pensive thought. Though now, you were happy to focus on Spencer, and forget about the wider world outside his door. Spencer begtins to argue with you, but you're already arguing. Eventually, he submits and allows you to order you both pizza.

Emily and Pen eventually arrive to drop off your things, only stopping by briefly before they go to track down Tyler. They give you a tight hug each, before promising to do all they can. Penelope is far more concerned than you currently are, finding solace in your situation. Silver linings on all clouds exist after all...

Settling on the couch once more, Spencer turns his head to you.

"So, I guess this throws a wrench in our date plans?" He had a sheepish demenour, he was sat in one corner, facing you, whilst you sat with your legs tucked up underneath yourself in the other. Quirking your head to side you raise a brow of inquisition

"Why does it?" Is all you state simply, confusing the man beside you

"Well, I don't think it's a good diea if you go out, the unsub could follow you, and we can't do much here..." His lips form a small line, he was clearly dissapointed by the prediciment but trying not to show it.

"Why does it have to? A date is quality time after all... Hell, we could have a date tonight if we liked." Softly speaking, you shuffle towards him, closing the small gap and placing your hand on hiS "Pizza nad a movie night, under blankets, cuddling, that sounds far better to me than a fancy restraunt."

Spencer gives you a soft smile, and thinks for a moment "I think we can do that... What do we need to do?" Shifting in your position, any fear is forgotten as you eagerly explain to Spencer the idea, get into your pyjamas, pig out on pizza, talk, joke, and watch a movie. He seems caught of guard by simplicity but eagerly agrees. Changing into pyjamas, obviously picked by Penelope, as eahc pair packed are all variations of cartoon pyjamas that had been gifted to you years ago. Of course, still beggars cant be choosers, putting on your pyjamas in the bathroom, you exit to see Spencer setting up the couch with blankets and pillows. He has a loose FBI Academy tshirt on, and plain grey joggers. The pizza is on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and eventually, Spencer turns to see you watching him. He gives you a smile.

He has turned off the lights, leaving only a lamp or two lit. The cosy enviroment has made you long forget any terror, forcing you to focus on the man in front of you.

"Did I do it right?" He asks shyly as you make your way over to him, with a smile you pull him into a hug.

"It's perfect." He pulls you closer before you break a part, sitting beside one another.

The first movie is your choice, a Hammer House of Horror retelling of Elizabeth Bathory, the Vampire Countess. Spencer enjoys telling you the historical innacuracies, but you don't bother telling him you knew this already. Enjoying his enthusiasm on the topic much more. By the end of the movie, the pair of you are hip to hip.

The second is Spencer's choice. It's a film in French, that has no english dubbing. He thinks you'd enjoy it for its horror elements, and he offers to translate it for you. He pulls you in close to him, arm around your figure as he whispers softly in your ear.

By the third movie, it is late. The pair of you debate the practicality of a third film at this hour. He reassurse you Hotch has given him leave to guard you when you worry about how early he has to wake up, and you sooth his worry at the fact you may not rest. You assure him that after the events of today, you would rather watch films with him rather than your alternative of replaying the image of that raven, and igniting your fears once more.

The third movie is a shared choice, after a few minutes of searching, you discover a new release that intrigues you both. His arm is still around you as the film plays, and there is a quiet calm. Your head is laid against his chest, and you tune into his steady heartbeat. His hands trace ghosts of symbols on your skin, causing small goosbumps to form in their wake. There is a domestic bliss in this moment, as this was the most natural position for the pair of you, that you were meant to fit perfectly under his arm like this. Like, the pair of you were the creatures that Plato had described all those years ago. A perfect pair.

"This is the best date i've ever been on" You mutter softly, eyes still looking to the screen. Spencer looks down to you on his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips.

"I think I can make it better though." His voice is almost a whisper, his confidence wavering slightly as he spoke. Moving to meet his gaze, you find him with a look of adoration in his eyes. Blinking, you hum in response to encourge him to continue. Slowly, he moves to meet your lips, placing a slow, chaste kiss where he lands. It is so tender, it surprises you. After the gruffness of the events of today, you welcome the tenderness of his lips, and return it best you can. The kiss lasts a few slow, passionate moments, before you break for air. The pair of you are awestruck by one another, film now forgotten as you lean in to kiss him again.

This time, the kiss was more feverish, more animalistic as your toungues meet. They begin to dance slowly before fignting for dominance. The kiss escalates, whilst you lie back in the sofa, his arms move to support himself on eitherside of your body. Your hads find his hair as one of his hands lightly traces your side.

When the two of you break oncemore, you are both short of breath. Spencer leans over you, panting lightly as he stares at your form, that same awestruck look painting his features once more.

"You're sublime." He whispers before dipping to kiss you softly again.

Spencer's words, his actions, are so careful and kind. He is calculated in a way that shows his appreciation for you rather than a want for your utility. He has worshipped you every moment he has been able to, and clearly has been for a long time. The safety and satisfaction that Spencer lends you in his pressance is made up of pure adoration for you.

Once the pair of you finally find your attention back on the film, you are both lost on the plot. It is now the early hours of the morning, and the subject of bed sharing was never brought up. But, as if it was your most natural state, he simply leads you to his bedroom, where you both fall asleep together once more, mirroring your positions from the hotel. His arm, protecitve around your waist, and you, snuggled tightly into his chest. This was a habit you were beggining to become used to.

As morning light creeped through Spencers heavy cuurtains, you stirred awake. The weight of his arm was still heavy agaisnt your waist, in the night you had turned away from him, ending up with your back perfecttly curved against his front as he snored lightly. It was the type of morning you fantasise about, the sun shining, birds twittering, yet you couldn't ignore the terror that haunted you any longer.

Last night, you had clung to the distraction of your date with Spencer. The night was everything you had dreamt of, the pair of you had talked all night about anything, and everything. But, that raven haunted the back of your mind.

Why would you be a victim? You knew from the team that stalkers psychology wasn't rational, but you had been a practical loner during your time studying. Study sessions with classmates, and maybe a casual conversation here and there, but no significant interactions besides Tyler sprung to mind. Most nights were spent alone, in obscurity in the crowd.

Then, you tried to look at yourself from a clinical perspective. What traits might draw in a gothic obbsessor to you?

A few moments passed whilst you complied this list in your mind, analysing yourself against every gothic story you knew.

A tight squeeze from behind you broke from your thoughts, as Spencer pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, and a small smile found its way to your lips. Turning in his hold, your eyes met his drowsy ones, still half lidded. You utter a soft good morning, which he returns by kissing your forehead softly.

"Good morning... Have you been up long?" His voice is laced still with dreams, rough but soft.

"Not long. Just been thinking..." Keeping your voice low, you try not to break the tender moment between the two of you. He hums whilst reaching a hand softly from your side and up to your cheek.

"What about?"

"Just..." Your voice stilted, trying to find the words "Just trying to think why I might be a target... From a Gothic perspective that is... Why would I be chosen for this?"

"Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of a story he read, or a character he liked. It wont be anything you could control though..." His hand is softly stroking yoour cheek, he is more alert now. Trying to soothe you from any worry that may be awaking with you.

"I think I figured it out..." Voice still soft, barely a whisper. You were afraid to admit it outloud, but you had figured it must be this. Spencer nods for you to continue.

"I think it's because I fit the archetype of the tragic gothic heroine. You know, the damsel in distress?" Pausing to organise your thoughts, Spencer simply waits, still softly stroking your cheek. "Im an orphan... Both my parents died when I was 19, I had to stop school for a while because of that... And now im alone, in a place where I moved without knowing a single soul. My past..." Again, another pause, your voice catches in your throat. Emotion now taking over.

A part of your past you tried not to touch was your parents death. It wasn't as if you hid it, it was just too painful a memory to recall. Tears well in your eyes as you recalln the night you discovered them, lifeless and bloody in your childhood home. Spencer moves to sit up, bringing you up with him. He cradles you in his arms as you lean softly on his legs for support. He rubs soothing circles on your arm as you gather the courage to share.

"When I was 19, I was in my second year of college... I came home for a surprise visit one weekend, and when I got home, it was empty. It was weird, my parents would be sat in the living room watching tv usually at that time, you know? So... So I called out to them. I searched the house when I didn't get a response from the. There was no sign of anything, it was like they had completely dissapered. Then I thought, You know maybe they're both in the storm sellar. My dad. H-He had turned it into a workshop, he liked to make things... He made me a great desk once, I still have it. But... But maybe I thought he wanted to show mum his new creation, so that's why they didn't hear me, you know?" Tears had began to fall, you were becoming frantic now, trying to get the facts of your parents death out before you could shy away. "I was right, they were both down there... I'll never forget the... The smell when I opened the shutters... We lived quite remote, they were quiet people, you know? So no body hearing from them wasn't strange, so when I got there... It had been 3 weeks." A loud sob broke from you and spencer pulled you closer to him, still soothing you.

"Maybe you can carry on later?" His voice softly penetrated through your own terror, but you shook your head, pulling away from him and sitting straight facing him.

"No, no I need to tell you or I never will... They were murdered. They... They had been held at gunpoint, and torutured for days..." you were trembling, but your eyes never broke from spencer's as you rushed your tale "I... The things he did... Then he killed them. He... He made my dad watch as decapitated my mother before doing the same to him. They left them like a display...." Spencer moved to hold you. You were now a wreck of shaking cries and laboured breath as you finally broke down in his arms. The man holding you was in abject shock, things beggining to make sense to him now.

The aversion to the crime scene photos wasn't due to being squeamish, it was because of the reminder of your parents. He would've also put money on the fact that your intrest in the Gothic was actually a subconcious need to find logic in your parents murder. It is after all, a historic genre of metaphorical trauma, the illustrations of mankinds sins.

"Im so sorry, angel..." He hushed you, rocking you slowly and petting your hair. He continued this motion, cardling you like a colicy child, until you finally were composed enough to continue. Eyes red and puffy, skin blotchy and red from the intensity of your cries. Almost afraid to ask, Spencer moved forward with his questions "Did they catch their killer?"

A small no was your only response "Death penalty..." was all you whispered. He took this as encouragment to further his line of questioning "Did you go to therapy?"

"Still do..."

"Where's the rest of your family?"

"It's just me, now..."

"So, how long have you bottled this up? You... You said you aren't very social, you don't date... When was the last time that you- That you let go like that?"

His question caught you off guard, but you couldn't recall the last time you had cried so hard over your parents. The thought of them was one you avoided. It only brought up memories of that storm cellar, the smell, the decay... Maggots unsettled you in a visceral way now, as did flies. You would see them in eveything, but the thought of their coporeal form was one that would rarely linger in your concious, lest the threat of their dismembered bodies haunt your mind once more. Though you loved them deeply, for your own protection you had tried to forget them in another state.

Spencer took your silence as an answer before pulling you up, he began to lead you into the living room before making quick work of getting you a glass of water. Here, you sat with him most of the day whilst he asked questions about your past, your family, your parents. You told him about how you'd grown up on the outskirts of a small town, that you were always a fan of ghost stories and would get in trouble for reading too much in lessons. Spencer was ammused by that, he was totuched to discover that your furniture in your apartment were actually pieces that your father had made, and you had brought with you. Sharing stories of holliday memories with your mother baking, even recalling the negative. Your parents arguments, the nasty things they'd say in their fury. The occasinal military style punishment you had underwent, but that also brought fourth the memories of your parents guilt, how they would show how much they'd truly love you after wards. They were imperfect, but that wasn't a problem.

Sharing wasn't only on you, Spencer shared with you his mothers condition. He told you about how he had to admit her into a home when he was just 18, The troubles he has had trying to navigate becoming the carer of the person who is meant to care for him. Tears, laughter, joy, and strife were shared between you, as you both lazed the day away, in hazy nostalgia of each others past.

In the middle of Spencer's story about his acrobatic exploits as a child, his phone rang. Excusing himself to answer, he stood a few steps away from you, just outside the door of the living room.

Moments later, he returned with a pale face. Curiosity combined with fear as you stood to walk over to him. Gingerly, you called his name.

"What happened?" He was silent for a moment, almost afraid to meet your eyes.

"Another box was delivered to your apartment today..."

Quirking a brow, you felt your heart beat quicken.

"Another raven?"

When Spencer didn't answer, and kept his eyes glued to your feet, you grew even more concerned.

"Spencer?" Your tone was impatient, but quivered still

He took a small deep breath

"It was the head of Tyler Jones."

Part 5 soon...

Tags: @pleasantwitchgarden @xamapolax @kchv

[sturniololuvz]

pls do a fic of the sturniolos sister getting home drunk/high

yesss!!!! btw i made these triplets get mad at her so please don’t be mad , i just love me some good fighting 😏🩷

“What Were You Thinking?”

Sturniolos x sister reader

Warnings : drunk, yelling , confronting

The clock on the wall read 2:07 AM.

Nick, Matt, and Chris sat stiffly on the couch, their eyes glued to the front door. The room was eerily silent except for the occasional frustrated sigh from Matt or the way Chris’s foot tapped aggressively against the floor.

“She should’ve been home hours ago,” Nick muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not answering her phone. What if something happened to her?”

Chris clenched his fists. “If she thinks she can just roll in here like nothing happened, she’s dead.”

Matt’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care what her excuse is. She had us worried sick.”

Just then, the doorknob rattled, followed by the sound of a clumsy shoulder hitting the door before it finally swung open.

Y/N stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, eyes half-lidded, and a sloppy grin on her face. She stumbled forward, barely managing to kick off her shoes.

“Heyyyy,” she slurred, waving at her brothers as if she hadn’t just walked into an ambush. “Wha—what are you guys doing up?”

The room was silent for a second.

Then, Chris shot up from the couch.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!” he yelled, his voice booming through the living room. “It’s two in the goddamn morning! Where the hell have you been?”

Y/N winced, rubbing her temple. “Shhhh, Chrissy, don’t yell… my head hurts.”

“Oh, your head hurts?” Matt snapped, standing up next. His face was red with anger. “We’ve been sitting here for hours, worrying about you, blowing up your phone, thinking you were in a ditch somewhere! And you just waltz in here drunk?”

Nick crossed his arms, his voice sharp but quieter. “Do you even realize how selfish this is?” He shook his head. “You didn’t text us, didn’t call, nothing. You didn’t even think about how we’d feel.”

Y/N waved them off lazily, stumbling towards the stairs. “You guys are overreacting. I was just… at a party. Having fun.”

Chris scoffed. “Fun?! You can’t even walk straight, Y/N! What if something happened to you? What if you got in a car with some asshole, or got hurt, or—or—”

“You could’ve died, Y/N!” Matt interrupted, his voice cracking with emotion. “And we wouldn’t have known until it was too late because you didn’t even bother to tell us where you were!”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples again. “Can you stop yelling? God, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Chris’s eyes darkened. “Not that big of a deal?” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’re our little sister. We’re supposed to protect you! But we can’t if you don’t tell us where you are, if you don’t pick up your damn phone, if you just—”

He cut himself off, his hands shaking with anger.

Matt exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re grounded. I don’t care if you’re seventeen. You’re not going out for a long time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You can’t ground me. I’m almost an adult.”

Nick’s eyes snapped to her. “Then act like one.” His voice was low, but the disappointment in it cut deeper than the yelling. “Adults don’t get wasted and ignore their family when they’re worried sick. You’re being reckless, Y/N.”

Y/N bit her lip, suddenly feeling the guilt sink in. The way they were looking at her—hurt, exhausted, furious—made her stomach twist.

Chris shook his head. “I can’t even look at you right now,” he muttered, storming off to his room.

Matt sighed, running a hand down his face before following Chris. “Go to bed, Y/N. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

That left just Nick, who studied her carefully. “You scared us, Y/N,” he said softly, but his eyes were still filled with disappointment. “You really scared us.”

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a lot smaller than before. “…I’m sorry.”

Nick nodded slightly, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to forgive her just yet. “Go to bed.”

She obeyed, dragging herself upstairs, her head spinning—not just from the alcohol, but from the reality of how badly she had messed up.

[twisted-king]

OOOO IDEA, how about the OB boys with a s/o who has an ESA (Emotional Support Animal) that they somehow convinced Crowley to allow them to have (because they literally need the animal). And the esa comforting them after their OB 🥺

Literally kissing you on the forehead rn.

Sorry about the exlusion of Jamil, idia and Malleus.

No ideas about Jamil, not sure how Idias would fit in... and Mal mal isnt finished

This is angstier than I thought it would be <3

TW: Panic attacks (Isolating + silent types), narcolepsy

Feel free to correct me if i got a certain experience wrong, I am a studying Psychology major so it would help me with my understanding of anything!

Remeber: ESAs and Service animals are different!

Overblot gang with an S/O with an ESA

First things first:

Lets say you're in second year, so you're dating the OB boys before the OB.

Going to keep the particular support need vauge, but it is panic related, reader is sensitive to loud noises and textures feeling wrong.

You 100% convinced crowley to let your ESA to stay with you because:

he is sooooo kind

you wouldn't let a poor defenseless panic-prone human in an ALL MAGIC BOYS SCHOOL alone would you????

Now with that out of the way:

Riddle Rosehearts

Animal: British Shorthair (cat)

I'm gonna call this cat Queenie

Riddle's Overblot wasn't really something you were ready for in any capacity.

Your usually kept together boyfriend was suddenly some... angry, monsterous thing.

This wasnt the Riddle that got you high quality noise cancelling headphones for unbirthday parties, the same Riddle who you spent so much time learning and growing with. Your dutiful boyfriend who was learning how harsh his punishments were with you...

That Riddle wasnt here right now.

Queenie circles you, nuzzling into your legs.

But its too late, you've shut down. Its hard to move, your heart feels like it doesnt have a beat but the hurt of an ever beating heart remains present.

Your breathing quickens, your knees buckle in from under you.

the dull thud of of your body hitting the slightly overgrown grass of heartslabyul is the last thing you hear as you slowly drown further into your panic.

Riddle, on the other hand, Just came to from his OB, staring at his dormmates worried and horrified faces. He feels weak, he knows what just happened, and he feels HORRIBLE....Oh god.

Are YOU okay??? where are you? Where is his S/O

That's when he spots you, your tear striken face, Queenie laying on top oof your chest, your hands shakily petting her back in sporadic, unrythmic strokes as her face snuggles further into your chest.

What has he done?

Riddle feels awful.

He promised to never be the cause of any panic for you. He wanted to be a safe space for you.

But his need for order seems to have taken over and ruined yet another important relationship in his life.

Despite his fatigue, he hesitantly appraches, keeping about 2 meters away from you. He knows you don't want anyone too close by right now.

When you show signs of calming down, He's there, silently and patiently sitting across from you.

"Do... do you want to talk about it..?"

You respond with a shake of your head.

He nods, you two remain in silence. One preparing for a potentially life-changing talk, the other rocking about as they cradle their cat

Leona Kingscholar

Animal: Corn Snake

His name is Zazu (shhhh)

Leona liked things quiet, and calm.

Thats what made you two work, at least according to him.

But, you knew and Malleus and Magift was a sore subject for him, you were kind of ready for his yearly temper, it caught you off gaurd last year, but this year you felt like you could really stand by his side!

Besides, a year in this hectic world with Zazu really helped stabilize your mood!

Until it wasn't.

A roaring stampede instead of a crowed, screams of terror instead of cheer, and your boyfriend, slowly turning your friend, Ruggie, into sand.

It was too much, too many shoves, too much noise, your friend almost died

You hold Zazu's little head gently, the soft, smooth texture of his scales your only vice as you duck under the bleachers of the magift stadium.

It's there and only there, all alone with your snake that you're able to break down and cry.

Leona groaned as he came to, he knew this was a stupid plan and a stupid decision. He could have just trained everyone properly, spend some actual time with you. He could have- Wait... where were you?

Despite his drained energy, he needed to know where you were. He put a hand up, stopping the chatter of his former victims, attemping to listen in for any sign of you.

He hears the soft mumbling of your attempts to talk to yourself

"Can't even trust em enough to tell me, I knew i should have stayed at home, this is why no one will accept yo-" hisssss

Okay, he had to do something

He rushes across the nearly empty stadium, suprising everyone (Except Ruggie maybe, he's kind of used to Leona)

"Herbivore?!" he stands outside the stands you're under

"I don't... I don't want to see you right now... I don't want you to see me."

"Babe- I... alright. Can I be with you right now?" "no." "I'm coming in anyway."

and he does.

He enters the darker space to find you huddled ong the ground, gripping onto your sleeve with one hand, the other coiled but zazu, who seems to lay still across your shoulders.

"I'll just be here." "Why?" you mumble "For you." he states

That makes you chuckle "You sap.."

Hisss <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Animal: Mop dog

Mop dog named Max...uh... Maxie

Okay so, unfortunately Azul did NOT like Maxie at first

But he got used to him because you two are a package deal

You knew Azul had insecurities, and his own...moments

You and Azul had a comfortable routine, you and him are both realtively particular, he needs a level of order in his life, and his comfort zone is very well kept. So you two kind of fell into a step.

Despite your realtive bliss spending most days in his office or the backrooms of the Lounge. You knew his business was his passion.

You also knew he tended to get a bit... ambitious.

You and Maxie knew to stay away during midterms, it was bound to get chaotic. And Azul gets kind of... gift-bomby around this time... it isn't the most comfortable.

Things typically died down a few days after midterms, so you decided to visit your boyfriend.

On the complete wrong day.

You took Maxie with you, ready to greet Azul after his busier week but instead you find...

Leona? with a pile of sand around him by Azul's vault... Oh no.

Maxie softly appraches a sullen Azul and nudges his leg with his paw.

Something seemed to snap because all of a sudden the sneaky yet loving Azul Ashengrotto you knew was... huge eight tentacles and crazed.

He shoves Maxie away, sending him to the ground (mind you, he's a pretty big dog)

He shoved your dog.

He's stealing things, he's refusing to be "worthless" "weak" "stupid and clumsy"

Everything you've always secretly felt you were... oh no...

Maxie rushes toward you.

You slowly place yourself on the ground.

You've fainted.

Azul comes to, he sees Ace, Deuce, the Prefect... Leona... and you? when did you get here? on the ground... Maxie gaurding your sleeping form.

He... overblotted.

How could he be so stupid?? everything seemed to be in pla e did he not count something or- WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Azul approaches you and Maxie, he dismisses the prefect and gang, solely focused on you.

Maxie opts to lie on top of you, promptly waking you up

"oof... what... what happended"

"I'm... so sorry" "Oh. right."

Maxie greets you with kisses, happily nudgeing your cheek accompanied by his happy barks. You sratch his head "I'm ok... down boy."

Azul apologetically stares at you, hesitant to say more.

You look up to him, sighing against Maxie. Your eyes narrowed "I thought we agreed." "I know I just... I can't help it." "Therapy." "I'll apply tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

Vil Schoenheit

Animal: Poodle

Her name is Georgette

Vil and Georgette get along realtively well. She doesn't shed, you keep her well groomed, and you're usually more on task with her around.

You like to joke that Vil reminds you of Georgette. He claims he is much more refined than your dog. She doesn't seem to like it much either.

He likes taking you out to set with him. He trusts you to behave and know's you feel safe both around him and whenever Georgette is around, he respects that.

Vil pets Georgette like an evil mastermind sometimes? So maybe that should have been a warning sign.

The VDC was fast approaching, Vil is under a lot of stress; he's been a harsh coach, his popularity stays at the same place consistently, he's FINALLY given the opportunity to beat Neige "once and for all"

VDC happens, you're helping the Prefect overlook how things are running. Overlooking the practices.

Vil does absoltely beautifully! and for once, Georgette agrees.

Neige does this old nursery song, and you're more than confident Vil will win.

You leave the prefect to handle the rest while you head to the stalls to buy a drink for Vil.

He deserves a treat after all <3

When you come back, everything seems fine but, the stadium is empty though...

And suddenly everything is falling around you

You take Georgette and quickly duck behind one of the seats.

Vil's distorted voice echoes throughout the stadium, you cannot quite see him but you see the giant MONSTER lurking behaind him.

When he comes to..

Vil is downright ashamed. He knows trying to poison someone is wrong. He knows he doesn't get to decide whether or not someone lives... Especially not for a glorified popularity contest.

And that's when he spots Georgette's thankfully obnoxiously large bow peeking out from behind one of the seats.

That is when he knows he has to check in on you. You are never far from Georgette.

"Darling? Meine Geliebte, are you alright.." You're huddled with your poodle. Rubble is strewn about around you. Your eyes remain shut as you mutter to yourself.

"It's ok, it's fine. you're safe. I-it's okay.." Georgette's fur is soft, you continue to trace little patterns into her well groomed coat.

Vil sighs to himself, relived you're at least ok, but he's worried. You have Georgette for a reason, and he knows just how much progress you've made to gain the confidence to live your daily life and he may have just destroyed that.

He remains by your side

[augustsprincess]

August Walker x little!reader

Just a lil drabble I wrote in one go hehe

Warnings: Dark. Dark. Dark lol. But also cute imo.

The world spins fast around you as you're flung to the ground by a man you've never spoken to. It didn't have to be this way, but you'd screamed. You'd seen too much. More than was acceptable. His mission was to take you out, to stop you from squealing to the wrong people.

You remember it so vividly, the blood. The sound of bone being splintered by metal. The light leaving the man's eyes as the other man smashed his face repeatedly with a pipe. And you remember him. You would never forget his face, if not his beautifully chiselled bone structure you'd certainly remember the malicious sneer he'd given you moments before dropping the pipe and storming towards you.

He doesn't give you much chance to scream or plead as he pins you to the ground, a look of unadulterated dedication on his menacing face. He didn't need a gun or the disregarded pipe for you, you were tiny compared to him. There was no way he could fuck up.

Your legs shook and kicked beneath him as his huge hands clasped around your throat. "This won't take long" he'd said, as if it were supposed to make you feel better.

"Daddy, no!" You yelped. You had no idea where it had come from. Never in your life had you called anybody that, not out loud at least. Walker was taken by surprise and his hands loosened slightly, allowing you to breathe a little more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to see....please, don't, daddy. I won't do it again-" you broke out into breathless sobs, your hands clawing at his big paws as they continued to loosen around your neck.

"Oh, little baby. I am sorry..." The man suddenly found himself cooing. He hated how subconsciously he'd reacted to your words. How easily the daddy in him had switched on and reacted. Complete the mission, he told himself.

He couldn't.

You gently sobbed under his large body and he finally released your neck, caressing the right side of your face so gently. "Shhhh, now. It's okay, little one. Daddy's here." As your crying began to quieten the man finally smiled a natural and inviting smile.

You suddenly felt like you could trust him. As he presses his lips to your temple in a sweet and chaste kiss, you don't notice the syringe pushing into your neck until it's too late. Your eyes grow heavy as you look up confused and feeling betrayed.

"Daddy?" You whisper.

"Go to sleep, little one. Daddy's gonna take you home. That's my good girl."

If only you'd realised 'home' wasn't your home. And whilst calling this stranger by that name had saved your life, it had also damned it for good. There was no way this man was ever going to let you go now.

You were all his and entirely at his mercy.

[read-write-thrive]

Charles Rowland Week Day Five — Earring/AU

Yes this is late but shhhh this ficlet was not working with me!! Still not happy with it but here we are. TW: slurs for South Asian and queer people mentioned (aka paki and fag) as Charles recounts what some of the awful other guys were saying to him. Take care of yourself as always :) hope you enjoy!!

Charles knew it wasn’t fair of him to slam the door open. He came back practically right after class, for once, and he knew that Edwin would be doing homework at his desk. Sudden sounds were worse for Charles than Edwin, for the most part, but it was still a dick move on his part to just bang the door open, storm in, dump his stuff, and then immediately set about taking a shower. In his defence it had been a truly awful day and he figured it was better to take his anger out on inanimate objects than snap (or worse) at Edwin himself.

But, again, this was completely unknown to Edwin, who jumped and twisted in his seat to see what the noise was. He calmed a bit at seeing it was Charles, but still tore his headphones from his ears to start up, “Charles! What the devil has gotten into you?” When Charles dropped his stuff off without responding, Edwin continued, “Is everything alright? Are you alright?”

Charles whipped off his top, threw it in the vague direction of his hamper, and started pacing and taking his socks off at the same time (which doesn’t work very well, but he was too angry to think that through), “It’s those dicks in my woodwork class again! I swear to fuck I am going to drive one of those hammers through their fucking heads, nail their empty skulls together so they might have some fucking use!”

Edwin somehow audibly blinked, “Well. That’s a picture. What have they done this time?”

Charles managed to still himself to unbutton his jeans, “More homophobic, racist shit. ‘Charlie! Charlie! Is the earring because you’re a gross fag or a fucking paki?’ Absolute arseholes. Like it’s any of their fucking business—they wouldn’t know culture if it shagged their mums.”

Another blink, “They really got to you today, it seems. You should take solace in the fact that they’re uneducated as you can be and still stay at this school. Not only are they on the tutoring list—none of which I will ever touch, of course—but anyone with any knowledge of South Asian or gay cultures would know that you would need to have the right, not the left ear pierced.”

Somehow, this logic broke through Charles’s temper (which had to be a special skill of Edwin’s—most people manage to rile him up more). Charles paused in this process of emptying his jeans pockets and stared at his roommate/best friend, “Wait, what? Did you research that?”

Edwin didn’t blush often, but when he did it was always paired with the sternest of expressions and fiddling of his hands. Charles thought it was cute, not that he’d ever say that to another boy. But Edwin assumed that face and Charles thought about it anyway, slightly distracted as Edwin explained, “It was a long time ago, if you must know. Right when you came back with your left ear pierced, in fact. I was… concerned, that I may say something wrong or misinterpret any of it. I had no wish to offend you, which included not asking you outright. … So yes, I ‘researched’ it.”

Charles felt warm to his core in a good way for once, not how anger had been burning through him minutes before. Edwin had really taken the time to look it up, just for Charles? And—, “Wait, researched it how? The Indian ear piercing thing—which isn’t what this is, ‘n case that wasn’t clear—is usually for babies and they get both ears done. The gay thing— that’s not exactly in the library, innit?”

Edwin continued fidgeting, eventually pulling out his little personal notebook for reference of some sort, “In my research I found that which ear was pierced first was a gendered tradition—right ear first for boys, left ear first for girls. Following that was an awfully confusing description of some sort of thread used in place of an earring, which didn’t apply to your piercing so I chose not to pursue it further. As for the— the other, well. Do you remember the boy I tutor for mathematics?”

Charles wasn’t exactly following yet but couldn’t resist in of their usual jokes, “Monty or something, yeah? The one who’s gaga over you.”

As expected, Edwin rolled his eyes (and remained pink in the cheeks) and continued, “Monty, yes. One of his friends was in the area when our session wrapped up and came by to chat. Thomas, I think his name was. He had only one ear pierced as well, though his was on the right. I was pondering if I could naturally bring it up in conversation without being rude—“

“Aw, but you love being rude.”

Edwin’s flat stare caused giggles to flurry through Charles, who tried to quell them to better listen to the story, “—I had no interest in coming across as rude to a new acquaintance. He noticed me staring at the earring, unfortunately. He had already made some … interesting comments—“

Charles bristled, “Oi, what kind of interesting?”

Edwin somehow got redder and redder in the face by the second, “It’s unimportant to the story, Charles, now let me finish!” He waisted for Charles to nod before continuing, “Quite right. Now, Thomas had already complimented me and must have seen me as… I believe he thought that he and I were cut from similar cloth. He was all too glad to point out my staring at his jewellery, in front of Monty and all!, and tell me about its meaning. I was— mortified, to say the least. The proximity—“

“He made you uncomfortable? That wanker. What did you say his name was?” Charles couldn’t help himself—if someone was freaking Edwin out it was Charles who was going to bat, literally.

Edwin huffed, “He leaned in closer than I anticipated and whispered it to me. It caught me off guard. And considering he is a near stranger—yes, I was uncomfortable, but it is perfectly fine without any need for violence, Charles.”

Charles relaxed his grip on the cricket bat he kept at his nightstand, taking a deep breath to try and return to semi-peaceful. It was just him and Edwin, there was no present danger. If Edwin said it’s okay, he should trust him. Charles took another breath before responding, “Right. Well. If he ever does it again and you want to do something about it.”

Edwin’s soft smile returned, “Thank you, Charles. Though I do not believe it will come to that. But yes, that was my research at the time. I believe it was sometime during the infection that you admitted it was all for aesthetic purposes.”

Charles would usually get playfully riled up at that, but he was still keeping that anger bolted down in the basement of his mind so he decided against it. Naturally, he decided to return to jokes instead, “I can’t believe you were researching earrings just in case I was, what, a very late to the party traditional Indian baby? Or decided to pierce my eat instead of telling you I liked blokes? C’mon mate, have more faith in me than that!”

Charles must have said something wrong—Edwin’s fidgeting was back. The soft smile was all but gone, too, “Of course I do, I just— this was a while ago, and I—“ He sighed, running his hands through his usually perfectly gelled hair, looking directly at Charles for only a second, “Charles, I refuse to continue this conversation while you stand there in your boxers.”

Although tempted to poke fun at Edwin for being prudish, that was one of the issues he’d learned not to push—between his fucked up family and his general Edwin-ness, Charles had learned nudity, sex, and the like weren’t well-received. Maybe one of these days they could discuss all of that, but not today. They’d both had quite a lot of Feelings for today.

Charles resumed his usual grin, grabbing what he needed for a shower, “Well I’m showering before we continue, then. Am I all set to use the bathroom?”

Edwin waved him on, replacing his headphones and returning to his homework. Charles took the dismissal without issue and went to take his shower as intended—only stopping to stare at (the earring) himself in the mirror for a tad longer than normal. He’d never regret it based on how cool it looked, obviously, but still. Being kicked around for so long sometimes makes you wonder if it’s be easier to join the team.

Nah, fuck that. Those poor sods can’t even spell aesthetic, let alone understand it. The earring was part of him, and he still cuddled the warm feeling of Edwin’s care to his chest. Going through all that effort—well, not really effort to get flirted with by some bloke called Thomas—to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt Charles’s feelings? For not the first and definitely not the last time, Charles took a second to appreciate it—he really was lucky to have Edwin around.

[damagedintellect]

You can't just talk about that Atsushi x reader in discord and then not have it posted anywhere please feed the hungry readers, me I'm the hungry reader!....I'm sure you've figured out who I am but I don't need anyone else knowing I'm a furry

💌 pfffft I mean you're right no one else needs to know you're a furry but bad news, your blorbos are not helping the furry allegations 😔 but I like omegaverse sooooo we're practically in the same boat if you will.

💌 I can drop a teaser since I decided to split it into two parts because writing 🍋 means I need to be in that headspace and oh boi am I too stressed lately!

Summary: Imagine if Atsushi had tiger tendencies that bleed into his everyday life as a result of accepting his ability. Now imagine it's say *checks notes* November-April.

Notes: Atsushi X reader, ADA reader, mutual pinning, heat/rut/mating cycles

Word count: 1,980 Part 1/2 [part 2 will be 🍋]

It was strange. You and Atsushi had been friends for a while, but as the winter months were coming to an end, you noticed he started being more protective of you. He had started unconsciously hovering over you in the office and would often offer to walk with you back to the dorms. You found it to be very sweet and endearing since you liked spending time with him, but a few days later, he accidentally growled at Dazai when the brunette put his hand on your shoulder. Atsushi looked mortified and fled the area with such haste he actually had a puff of dust follow him out. You've never seen him do that before. Turning to Dazai, he only laughed, humming to himself as if he knew why, but you were still baffled at what just happened to make him leave in such a hurry. The rest of the room brushed it off, so maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. If Atsushi wanted to talk about it, he'd bring it up on his own time, but he never did.

A few days later, you were pretty roughed up after returning from a mission. The moment Atsushi saw you, he pushed Kunikida out of the way and held you tight. He gingerly assessed your wounds, refusing to let anyone near you until Yosano cleared her throat, snapping him back to his senses. Once again, he bolted out of the room with a look of despair, leaving you mystified about what was going on. It seemed to click for everyone else, but you didn't have a clue what was going on. To be fair, you were still relatively new to the agency. You've only been with them for a handful of months, but they've already accepted you as family.

As Yosano was patching you up, she gave you a stern expression. "If he's making you uncomfortable, I can tell him to cut it out." You could feel your cheeks slightly heat up thinking about everything Atsushi’s done over the past few weeks. That has to be what she was referring to, right? You stuttered, trying to figure out what to say. "N-no, it's not that he's making me uncomfortable, i-it's just that I," you paused briefly. The moment you joined the agency, you knew you were doomed once you were formally introduced to Atsushi. He was just so friendly and caring it felt natural that you were drawn to the tiger boy. Over the past few months, you realized that you started developing a crush on him. Inside you were eating up all of this new seemingly possessive behavior, but the way he was running away immediately afterwards was concerning. You sighed almost defeated.

Yosano chuckled darkly "Oh I get it you like-" You immediately put your hands over her mouth. "Shhhh don't say it out loud! I'll never hear the end of it if Dazai were to hear."

As if on cue Dazai had burst through the door smugly "Never hear the end of it if I heard what?" You rolled your eyes at him. Yosano ignored the nosey idiot and delicately grabbed your hands "All I'm saying is you should tell him before April hits. It'd actually be easier on all of us."

Dazai gave you a smirk that already says he put together your secret. You frowned as you pulled him out of the infirmary. He was amused by your irritation but didn't say anything directly. You glanced back to Atsushi’s empty desk before setting your head down on yours. Confessing was going to be easier said than done.

Over the next week you would fail to confess your feelings for him. Part of it was because the words had a hard time leaving your mouth, to which Dazai would playfully mock "What cat got your tongue?" Other times Atsushi would scamper away after "overstepping" and he was too fast for you to get a word out edgewise. Sometimes multiple inconveniences would occur causing a series of unfortunate events. Needless to say you tried but didn't end up confessing. You were fine staying friends even if his random exits were starting to get to you. Was he scared of you? Were you making him uncomfortable?

You were walking past his desk to put a stack of paper on Dazai’s when he pulled you into his chair and shoved his face into the crook of your neck. You’re glad most people were out on a case today because the noise you involuntarily made was embarrassing. Kunikida was unbothered, too enthralled with his work to glance in your direction. Atsushi hummed, smiling against your neck as he took in a deep breath. The sensation caused you to shudder as he loosened his grip slightly pressing primarily his forehead to your skin. He felt hot.

"Hey, Atsushi? Are you feeling okay?" You asked shifting in his lap to look him in the eyes. His pupils were blown wide and he seemed kind of out of it. "Now that you mention it, it's a little warm in here." He seemed pretty dazed.

You brushed the bangs off of his forehead to press yours to his. "You should go see Yosano, I think you're running a fever." You stood up but he was still stunned by how you invaded his personal space a moment ago. You swear you could hear a soft purr come from him. After a beat he slowly made his way to the infirmary. Kunikida watched him almost stumble out of the room raising his eyebrow at you causing you to shrug in response. What was there to say, he wasn’t feeling well.

In the doctor's office Yosano sighed "It's that time of year again Atsushi, it's going to happen whether you like it or not." She looked at the thermometer and sure enough he was running a fever which means he's about to start his "mating cycle"

"It still doesn't make sense to me. Why am I the only one who has weird side effects of my ability!" Atsushi rolled his eyes slouching in his chair. You've been driving him crazy for weeks now. He can sense when you're near just by your scent and he keeps itching to be as close to you as possible. He knows he had a crush on you but recently it's been getting worse and the tiger has been acting on it without his permission.

"I wouldn't say that exactly, I mean just look at Dazai. The only difference is none of us have animalistic tendencies." Yosano pulled out some pills to help Atsushi for the week he's about to endure. She made them specifically after last year's cycle when the tiger went berserk. Which reminded her "Did you ever have that talk with (Y/N)?"

Atsushi hid his face in his hands. "No…I couldn't do it."

"Of course you didn’t," she huffed knowing it was a lost cause at this point. "You both are helpless."

Atsushi perked up suspiciously at her words "What’s that supposed to mean?"

She handed him the pills "It doesn't matter. Just go home, keep your door locked and take these. Dazai will come check on you in a few hours once he gets back." Yosano shooed him away to make another set of medications. Atsushi wasn't convinced she wasn't up to something.

The door opened while your back was turned so you didn't see Atsushi leave but you definitely felt a pair of eyes linger on your frame as he left. You sighed as you handed Kunikida your reports. He cleared his throat seeing you slump "It's not my place to say but if you're worried about him why don't you make him some of that famous soup you're always talking about. I'm sure that will help him make a swift recovery." Kunikida would rather stay out of it but after witnessing just how dense you and Atsushi really are, he figured a small nudge in the right direction couldn’t hurt. Otherwise he might have to deal with another of his colleagues moping at work and it's bad enough Dazai pesters him to no end.

You smiled wide "You're right! Thank you Mr. Kunikida, that's a great idea!" You hastily gathered your things and rushed out before you could hear the rest of Kunikida's suggestion. He was going to say don’t deliver it alone but he's sure someone will manage to stop you before you can do anything too reckless. He simply pushed up his glasses and continued his work. It wasn’t his fault the two of you couldn’t talk about your feelings like normal adults.

You on the other hand hit the market before going back to your dorm to make the famous soup. Kenji was always talking about how in his village they had a cure all soup and he showed you how to make it. Although not everyone was around to try it at the time. Atsushi was one of those people, but now was the perfect opportunity for it! You wasted no time at all packaging it up in a nice thermos, heading over to his room.

You stood in front of his door with your hand ready to knock when you were pulled inside and pinned against the door. Atsushi was visibly panting as his eyes focused on yours. It was strange since when were his eyes blue? You thought they were a mix of purple and yellow.

"I smelled you coming up the stairs." He rested his head on your shoulder "You shouldn't be here. Not when I'm like this." He was already in his sleepwear and his hair was disheveled more than normal. It looked like he just woke up from a nap or something.

You swallowed hard. It was now or never. "I don't mind, you know. I came here to help make you feel better anyhow." You lifted up the soup you made. Hopefully he likes it. This would be the first time Atsushi would be eating your cooking. The thought made you feel warm inside.

Atsushi's mind was flustered as he misunderstood what you came here for. "I can't ask that of you-" Sure he’s had fantasies about this situation but he never thought they'd come true. Recently you've been the center of all his "mating" daydreams. You always looked so cute under him and the prospect of you wanting to be intimate with him was crashing his train of thought.

Meanwhile you still thought he was feeling under the weather. "Good thing you didn't ask then." You cut him off leaning forward to pull him in your embrace. You know he's never truly had anyone to lean on in the past. You want to be that person for him. "I don't think you understand how much you mean to me. I've always seen you as more than a friend, Atsushi."

His eyes widened as he nuzzled into you. If this was a dream he hoped he never woke up. "I like you as more than a friend too." He sighed contently into your neck. You smelled so good to him it was making him dizzy. "Do you mind if we cuddle?" He was nervous, you could tell but you both already admitted to liking each other and you've never turned down an excuse to hug your favorite tiger boy before. You giggled at his hesitancy. He was being clingy and cute. How could you say no to him?

"I'd love to."

You put the soup down on the counter before Atsushi pulled you into his little pile of blankets. It was extremely comfortable and warm. You slotted so perfectly together like a puzzle. It was the absolute perfect setting for both of you to fall asleep in each other's arms, completely unaware of the misunderstanding that was waiting for you when you woke up.

[Part 2 ...coming soon]

[onim5]

The New Student. Part 3

Portgas D. Ace x female reader

This is a modern au.

If you're a very sensitive person, don't read this.

Warnings: Nondiwa and Ast mean bit#h in some random language on Google Translate.

Masterlist + other parts

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

Me and Toxin settled down in the car. After a minute or so of driving, Toxin's smile faded. "Are you okay?" She asked, concerned. "No, I thought Ace and Sabo were the only criminals. But in Luffy's room, a whole pile of weapons was hidden under a blanket." I say as tears leave my eyes. "Do you think I can survive until the end of the week?" I ask, looking at her. "Yes, Ace has been hanging out with you for three weeks. So you probably will," Toxin answers, gripping the wheel a little harder.

Flashback

When I had walked far enough, I breathed out. I took up my phone and earpods, putting on some music. When I arrived at the grocery store, I saw a woman with a puffy light-purple dress. I smiled and waved to Toxin while walking up to her. She watched, amused as I took off my earpods. "You good?" She asked with a grin. "I am now since I'm with you," I answer, with a small smile. "Let's get what we need," She smiled wickedly. "Hmhm, come on." We quickly bought what we wanted and then began our way home. "Toxin!" I hissed, pushing her back.

On the other side of the building corner, a very famous man walked. Marco from the Whitebeard Mafia and some other men. "You're supposed to meet Ace tonight, right?" One of them asked. "Shhhh, don't use real names." Marco hissed. "Oh come on, there's no one here. Are you supposed to meet Portgas D. Ace tonight?" The man asked, unserious. "Yes! I am, we're gonna need quite a lot of professional arsonists for this mission, so his brother is coming too." Marco yelled-whispered.

"Wait, you're hanging out with Portgas D. Ace at school?" Toxin asked, surprised. "I thought you were friendless." Toxin adds as she places the grocery bags on the counter. "I thought it was weird, then I just let it go since he's been so nice. But he has me as a target, I'm doomed." I cry settling down on the couch. "Hey, we're not sure of that." Toxin tries to reassure. "Oh really, why else would a guy like him try to be with a nerdy loser?" I ask. "I haven't met him so, hard to tell. Maybe he thinks you're cute?" Toxin suggests.

"When he has all the other girls around his finger?" I ask sarcastically. "He's that kind of guy?" Toxin asked, disappointed. "Yes, and I even started to speak to him normally. So if I stop, he gets suspicious." I put my hands on my eyes and tried blocking the tears. "You won't die! I start picking you up, and if you're late, I will call you. If you don't answer, I will call the police. I'm your friend Y/n, I will help you through this." Toxin said seriously while holding my hands.

"Thank you." I cried.

End of flashback

"Virus has fixed a train for us to her place. You only need to survive until Saturday, and then you never see Ace again. It's gonna be okay." Toxin reassured, patting my back. I didn't answer. "Don't you think it's gonna be nice to get out of New Line?" Toxin asked, trying to change the subject. "I guess," I mumbled. "I heard your principal is a really creepy guy. What was his name? Oh, right, Doflamingo. Wouldn't it be nice to get away from him?" Toxin asked, hoping that this could lighten up the mood if only slightly.

"I guess, but I haven't really met him all that much." You answered. "I checked into it before, and it seems the Seven Lord schools are doing a lot of weird activity," Toxin added deep in thought.

Time skip

"You ready?" Ace asked, kindly putting a hand on your shoulder. "Yes, I am." Sabo smiled as he watched the interaction. This would be great. "All right, group 1 starts." Senor Pink declared. The first group presented their book. And then, unfortunately, it was your turn.

You, Sabo, and Ace stood at the front and put up the presentation on the big screen. It went smoothly, and since you three had trained so much, it was clear to Senor Pink what score he should give group two. "That's how a great presentation looks." He commented at the end. The lesson went on, and the others were also pretty good, except for one group.

"Shit," Ace said as he looked at the screen of his phone. "What?" Sabo asked, glancing over at the screen. On the top of Ace's notifications was a message from Sir Crocodile, who is Luffy's principal. "What do you think he did?" Sabo asked, concerned. "Y/n, we are gonna have to leave. Luffy got unsurprisingly in trouble." Ace sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. "See you later." He waved as they started to make their way there. "Okay, good luck." You smiled.

You made your way to the cafeteria. After getting food and settling down, you found not one but a whole girl group sitting down together with you. "Where's Ace?" One asked. "He's busy with Sabo." You answered, not feeling like explaining. "Speak louder! Well, anyway, we wanna know. Are you and Ace a thing?" One of them asked. "No." You state, clearly. 

Ace and Sabo just arrived at the cafeteria. You sat near the entrance, so he immediately spotted you and the girl group. He pulled back Sabo and signaled him to be quiet as they listened.

"Don't lie. You and Ace are a couple." The one next to you said, Nondindwa. "We are not dating." You said clearly. Hating how convinced they sounded. "You know, Nondindwa is gonna confess to him today. And if he says no to her, then he's clearly into someone as stupid as you. And that is ridiculous." Ast, the other girl next to you said right in your ear. "Wait, um, maybe you should go for someone other than Ace." You said hastily to Nondindwa. Thinking about how Ace breaks here, once he says yes, maybe burn her alive like the arsonist he actually is. 

"So you and Ace are a couple! You your just scared that he gets with her once she confesses." Ast once again said in your ear. "No, I just think, Nondimdwa has another taste in guys." You said as an excuse, not daring to tell them your opinion. "You think she's not wordy of Ace!" Ast literally yells in your poor ears.

"Ace, Y/n probably wants you for herself," Sabo says to Ace, with a smug smile. And the blush that covered Ace's face made it worth it.

"No, I did not mean it like that." You said in a loud voice to Ast. "How dare you raise your voice to me," Ast says. "You know, we haven't shown you who's boss since you're new here," Nondindwa claims, putting a hand and dragging off a few hair strands from you. Oh god, she's crazy. "Maybe you and Ace. Do make a good couple." You said sweetly. Also, adding the classic eyelash blinks. "Um, that's how it's supposed to sound," Nondindwa says unsurly. I hope Ace burns you alive.

Ace awkwardly walks up to the table. "Hello ladies, mind if I join?" NO ACE!!! Now we have to sit with them the whole lunch.

Ace has to sit next to the girls on his side of the table as Nondindwa and Ast sits next to you. I'm not sure if I feel safer with these woman or with Ace. The girls aren't even good at hiding their damn drooling over him. You glance over at the two bitches next to you and can see how they also see how the other girls drool from just seeing him. Nondindwa is clearly jealous and pissed, while Ast is irritated and slightly glancing at Ace in the same way as the rest. Ace feels pretty awkward as he wonders what he should talk with you about.

"Uh, actually I just remembered that I have some school work that I have to finish." You chuckle awkwardly. 

"I can help you." Ace offers with a gentle smile making the girls snap their head at me as if you had been lying about dating him.  

"No, you need to eat lunch. But, you can hang with these fine ladies." You smile backing away with your plate in hand, still some food on. Ace can't really protest without being rude, so you leave him behind with the leches. As you walk out the cafeteria you throw away your food, having lost your appetite while sitting with those girls. . . . 

You walk down the hallway, of course had you lied about needing to finish some school work. What you had to do was talk to the principal. . . . Donquixote Doflamingo. You trip to his door and nervously knocks. 

"Get in or get lost." A deep voice snorted with an amused tone from the other side. You open the door carefully, and glance into his office. It was decorated as if it was a kings room, and not a normal office. The guy himself sat by his desk, an abnormally big guy. . . 

"Hello, sir. . ." You mumble, trying to not talk to quietly. You close the door and step in, doing your best to appear less nervous than you were.

"And you are?" The guy asks, with a frown, clearly not to keen on wasting time with you. Pica the schools night guard stood in the corner of the room. 

"Y/n L/n sir. I uh, I'm beginning at another school. . . I'm dropping out of this one. Because I'm moving." You reveal, nervously. Doflamingo isn't amused at all.

"And why should I care?" He asks his grin as wide as it always is. 

"You shouldn't I guess, but I need my grades. . ." You frown.

"I know that, Pica go fetch her grades. . ." Doflamingo orders. The room went silent as we had nothing left to say. Doflamingo grins and seems to be ready to ask something, but definitely to your luck his phone rings. He stops smiling for a second and walks to a corner in his office. It was gigantic so he probably figured that you wouldn't be able to hear anything. . . . but you have good hearing, so you heard snips of the conversation.

Pica hands you a folder and then gestures for you to head out. You nod as a thank you and then finally gets to leave the office. 

Piecing the words you you barely heard you easily figured out that that mission that Ace and Sabo had been at involved Doflamingo somehow. They had burned down a toy factory, that Doflamingo owns? 

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

I'll make a part 4, and probably publish it sooner or later. 

[shelby-fangirl00]

Hi darl, I'm so happy to see a new writer for the fandom! I'm Lee and I write for most Peaky characters. I esp adore Tommy tho and I'm curious to know what you'd do with this prompt: "Sing for me." "What would you like to hear?"

Hello! XD I'm so sorry for the late reply, I just had a bit of trouble with this one for some reason! But I had a fun time writing! I'm a little unsure of this but I hope you can enjoy it! Thank you so much for the request, you're the best :)

Word Count: 2359

The song below is incorporated into this story, just for reference.

Sing For Me

The sun poured in through the large windows, creeping through the thin sheets I used to cover my face. I woke up to loud car engines coming through the circular driveway. Being an au pair here at the Arrow House was, of course an absolute gift. It was unlike any place I had ever worked before. But it was also very empty here. The only sounds that floated through the halls are from the maids and Charlie.

 I was hired in a few months after the passing of Mrs. Shelby. I like to imagine that when she was here, the house was lively, something I had never seen before. This mansion felt like an empty museum. I wondered often what life was like around here for Mr. Shelby and Charlie before I was needed. It would bring me comfort to know that they were both truly happy at one time. 

As I walked out of my room and into the hallway, I could hear Charlie rustling around in his bed in the next room over. His door was cracked open slightly. As I peered in to greet him, I saw that he was still sleeping, tossing and turning.

Suddenly, he started to weep. He was in some sort of distress it seemed like. 

‘Charlie…Charlie love, wake up.’ I whispered while I gently shook his arms. 

When he finally opened his eyes to look at me, he started to cry even harder. 

‘Shhhh shhh Charlie…it’s alright dear. It’s just a scary dream.’ I consoled. He often woke up like this. Frances warned me about it when I first got here. He has these night terrors often, ever since his mother died. He was barely two years old at this point. 

Charlie continued to cry harder, becoming louder. It was still quite early, so I worried that I’d wake Mr. Shelby, who was next door. 

Now that I’ve come to understand Charlie, I had a few tricks up my sleeve that I knew to calm him down. He seemed to like when I sang to him. I sang him some of my favorite songs or a song that was stuck in my head. Other times, I would just hum to him and he would drift back to sleep. 

Charlie extended his small, puffy arms in an attempt for me to hold him. I reached out, placing him on my lap. He wrapped himself around me, squeezing around my neck as he clung to me, lying his soft head on my shoulder. 

I began to rock, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him. I quietly began to sing a song that he usually responded well to. 

‘I am dreaming dear of you, day by day

 Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray

 When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams  In a land of love, it seems, Just with you  Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.’

Before I could even finish the song, Charlie’s sniffles stopped and his body became limp, drifting back to sleep. 

I held him there a few moments longer, enjoying the embrace of the child I had grown to love and care for. As the minutes passed, there was a small creak from Charlie’s door. 

I looked up expecting to see Frances, but instead, a disheveled Mr. Shelby stood in his night clothes. His billowy white shirt and boxers. 

I immediately averted my gaze from him, feeling like I was intruding on his privacy, even though he was the one who barged in.  

‘Everything alright? I heard Charlie crying again.’ He said so quietly, as to not wake him.

I very quickly and carefully placed Charlie back into his small bed, covering him with a blanket before standing up. 

‘I apologize if we woke you, Mr. Shelby. Charlie just had another bad dream I believe. He’s settled in now sir.’ I said as I stood in front of him, eyes doing their best to avoid him. He was a very intimidating man to be around. 

‘No need for an apology dear. Would you mind leaving me with him for a little while?’ He questioned. 

I couldn’t help but to look at him and smile before answering. I liked seeing him spend time with his son. He needed his father more than he needed me. 

‘Of course, sir. I’ll be downstairs in the library if you need me.’ 

                                                            ------

Charlie and I spent most of the day in the stables. He loved being outside more than the empty house, so I usually had a picnic made up for us out on the large property. He was the only person I really ever saw or spoke to these days, but I don’t mind, he is great company and always keeps me entertained. I just hope I do the same for him. I can tell that he misses his father.

It was winding down towards the end of the night. Charlie had been asleep for well over an hour by now. I had just finished helping Frances clean up in the kitchen. With nothing else to do, I decided to head upstairs to my bedroom.

As I headed down the long hall towards the stairs, I passed Mr. Shelby’s large office. The tall and dark door was wide open, which was out of ordinary. A low light crept out of the doors and on the hallway walls. As I walked by, I glued my eyes on the wooden floor. 

Just as I passed the door frame, I heard his deep voice call my name from inside the room. My stomach tightened as I realized I had never been alone with Mr. Shelby and I was petrified for it to happen. 

‘What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?’ I practically mumbled out as I stood in the doorway, too scared to enter.  

He was sitting casually on the edge of his desk with a glass of whiskey in hand. His sleeves were rolled up his arms sloppily. His expression didn’t give away what he wanted from me. He was expressionless. 

‘Shut the door please.’ He commanded. 

I did as he asked, fear creeping up my stomach, into my chest. 

‘I heard you and Charlie this morning. I heard you singing to him.’

Was he offended by my practice? Did I cross a line? 

Your cheeks flushed red as the embarrassment set in.

‘Oh…yes, it’s just something I do when he has his nightmares. If…if you want me to stop-

‘Does he like it when you sing?’  He questioned, his voice becoming a bit softer when talking about his son. 

‘I believe it does. It stops his crying, at least. But it mostly puts him to sleep.’ I giggled out, smiling in his direction while talking about Charlie. 

Thomas studied my face a few seconds, chuckling to himself. A small smile crossed his face too, which was new. His dimples peaked out from each cheek. I liked seeing him smile. 

‘Well then, please don’t stop. I’m happy that it brings him some comfort.’ 

 There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. 

‘You drink whiskey?’ Asking as he strutted over to a cart full of liquor by his desk. 

‘If you’re offering, thank you.’ 

I studied his broad shoulders and back as he poured out the drink, then headed towards me.

I had never been so close to him before as he stood a foot away from me, extending the glass out for me to take. 

He blue eyes never left my face as I threw back the glass, the dark liquid warming up my insides. 

‘So, you like to sing?’ he asked, leaning back on his desk again. I inhaled deeply and took a few steps closer to him, closing the now awkwardly large gap between us. 

‘Well, I suppose. Me mum always forced me to sing for her and her friends when I was a little girl. I prefer singing to Charlie over them though. He doesn’t expect much out of me.’ I chuckled while thinking again about Charlie.  

‘I can tell that you care deeply for my son. I called you in here to thank you. He’s been through too much for his age. I am happy to see him happy again.’ He spoke like he was reading off of a piece of paper. Still, I appreciated the recognition. 

‘Of course. I really do love being here with him, even if it is a bit…lonely here sometimes.’ 

 It was easy to see how lonely he was too, without his wife. It broke my heart to know he was hurting. I cared so much for his son that it was hard not to care about him too.  

His eyes looked up from his glass, a surprised expression on his face.

‘I think I know what you mean. It can eat away at ya if you’re not careful though.’ He warned me.

‘You know from experience, I assume?’ I asked sheepishly, prying a little more.

‘Well, of course. I’ve lived in this loneliness for a while now, love.’ He said lowly and plainly as he sipped on his drink. 

‘Right well,’ he declared as he walked around his desk to sit back in his chair, leaving me stranded, feeling exposed in the middle of this large room. 

‘I need to hear more of this voice of yours, since Charlie loves it so much.’

My heart sank with dread. 

‘Sorry?’ I chuckled out with a confused expression covering my face. 

‘Sing for me.’ He affirmed, smiling devilishly, knowing that putting me on the spot like this would make me fluster. 

A few moments passed in complete silence. I shot back the rest of my whiskey  before placing the glass on his desk. I cleared my throat obnoxiously before placing my hands behind my back.

‘What would you like to hear?’

His eyes scanned the length of my body before answering.  I became over aware of my most-likely underwhelming appearance. 

‘What did you sing to the boy today that put him to bed?’

‘Uhm… It’s called ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart.’ Ya know it?’ 

‘Yes, perfect. Go on then, I insist.’

I smiled at him before taking a deep breath. I opened my mouth to repeat the same song from this morning, wanting to get this over with:

‘I am dreaming dear of you, day by day

 Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray

 When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams  In a land of love, it seems, Just with you  Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.’

I looked back up at Thomas who was already staring at me, a glimmer in his eyes. 

‘Charlie is right. You’ve got quite a lovely voice, dear.’ He stood up and made his way to stand in front of me again. 

I grinned up at him as to say thank you. 

And a pretty smile as well. You’re very beautiful.’ 

I nearly froze from his words, my breath quickening. 

‘Oh, please. Thank you, but you’re so beautiful, it’s almost annoying, Mr. Shelby.’ I giggled out nervously, hoping I wasn’t being too forward. But he was, so what was the harm?

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

‘Please call me Tommy, love.’ He muttered out.

Without saying another word, Tommy began to push my long and frizzy hair behind my ear. I inhaled sharply as his hand made contact with me. He was definitely coming onto me. Was this appropriate? It was hard to say no to a man like Thomas Shelby. Everything about him was intoxicating.

“Are you going to kiss me, Tommy?’ I whispered, batting my eyes sensually at him as I wetted my lips, pushing my lips passed my teeth.

His hand made its way to lightly tilt my chin up to him before he leaned down to press his warm lips onto mine. I was basically trembling with excitement and a bit of fear. The fear fell off of me as he deepened his kiss. He wrapped his hands around my cheeks and pulled me further into his body. I could feel his muscular chest pressed against mine as he sank into my mouth. I opened the kiss to allow his tongue access inside. He greedily accepted the invitation with more force. The kiss was became so needy.

Without thinking, I threw my hands into his hair and gripped lightly onto his loose brown strands. He moaned softly into my mouth, sending vibrations through my body. 

“Mommy! Mommy!’ Charlie cried out from behind us. My eyes shot wide open as both Tommy and I practically sprung off of each other. 

Charlie ran up to me with tears in his eyes, clinging to my legs and squeezing.

Completely flushed and still trying to recover what just happened, I picked up Charlie instinctively, bouncing him up and down to calm him down. 

I turned around to see Tommy was who holding back a giggle. 

‘Tommy, I try to correct him when he says this, I swear.’ I worryingly assured him. I hoped it hadn’t offended him.

‘No, no, please don’t apologize. He doesn’t know any better…it’s quite adorable, actually.’ He said jokingly while giggling.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him before turning to face the door. 

“I should try to put him back to bed.’ I exclaimed as I headed towards the door. 

‘I’ll join you, then. I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing again, either.’ He said teasingly, coming up on my side and placing his large warm hand on the small of my back as to lead me out of the doorway with him. 

‘You will? Oh Tommy, I think Charlie would love that!’ I beamed up at him as he smiled down at me. For the night, I felt as though I saw a side of Tommy that he hides away from others. To the outside world, Tommy Shelby was a ruthless gangster and business man. Here at the Arrow House tonight, he was just Thomas. He was just a man.

[criminalmindswhore]

Dark Pieces of Me

TW: violence, kidnapping, blood, description of wounds, spy activities

Summary: Emily and you both have dark pasts, but yours come to light against your will.

Part 2 | Part 3

"Guys, we got something," Garcia announced as she entered the bullpen. Everyone stood up from their desks grabbing notepads, pens, and coffees. As they shuffled into the round table room everyone was silent, except Reid as he finished his ramble about how elephants think humans are cute and react the same we do with puppies. "Yeah I hate to cut off conversation about puppies but this is urgent." Garcia clicked the remote displaying pictures of mutilated bodies. "San Fransico PD is requesting our immediate help as a cyclist discovered all 5 of these bodies early this morning. All 5 victims were killed over a month ago but dropped late last night." Her face cringed as she caught a glimpse. The team studied each body, and you were first to speak up. "Cause of death?" Garcia continued, "Blunt force trauma to the face. Each person was hit in the face repeatedly with something like a bat or tree branch. There were pieces of wood lodged in their skin." Everyone cringed slightly, but you. Emily noticed, her eyebrows lifting somewhat in concern. "We need to find out who these people are and who did this to them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch ordered and everyone filled out of the room. You were the fastest to abandon the table, dropping your things at your desk you quickly made your way to the bathroom.

As you entered the stall and locked it, memories came flooding back to you...

"Good evening ma'am." You turned in your chair to face the door. "What took you so long Henry?" The man cringed, knowing this was his fate. "I- um- the target was hard to reach." You scoffed, "That has never been an issue before. Now answer me truthfully what took you so long?" You sat up in your chair, elbows resting on the desk. Henry took a deep breath in, "The target was holding her daughter." He finished his sentence and waited. You sighed, you hated this mission. You hated every part of it. "Thank you for your honesty. Go." You shooed him away. As soon as the door shut you let a couple tears slip before pulling yourself together and picking up the phone. 3 rings and then he spoke, "Is it done?" Your face showed fear but your voice never faltered, "Yes sir." He chuckled, "God. Now kill Henry and the other and get home mi amor."

The tears came rushing from your eyes as you sat on the toilet clutching your arms around yourself. You remember what your therapist said, "Deep breath in, I am safe, deep breath out." After a few deep breaths, you calmed down enough to return to work. Opening the bathroom door, there stood Emily. A concerned look on her face made you break down again. Nearly falling on the group Emily caught you. A sob escaped your lips and everything started flowing. Emily pulled you close to her chest holding you up by the shoulders and an arm around your waist. You put your forehead on her chest and sobbed. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and onto her shirt. "Shhhh y/n it's okay, get it out." Emily knew deep down something big was wrong, you never cried in front of anyone ever. "I'm so sorry Emily. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." Emily immediately pulled you to your feet, holding by your shoulders and staring into your swollen eyes. "Listen to me right now, I don't know what's wrong, but no matter what it is not your fault." You took a deep breath. The old you crept in as you immediately stopped crying, knowing what had to be done. "I'm sorry Emily." You spoke so clearly that Emily got a chill. This was not you.

You broke out of her grasp and walked into the bullpen. She followed close behind you, "Y/n, what are you doing?" She called after you, drawing attention to the two of you. You collected your items, laid your badge on your desk and walked towards the door. "Y/n what's going on?" Morgan asked as he stepped in front of you. You stopped in front of him and looked him dead in the eyes. "Let me go." There was no emotion in your voice and it shook him to his core. He stood his ground, "Y/n, no. What is going on?" He spoke sternly, demanding you to stay and let them help. "Derek Morgan, move or I will move you." You stared right through him. He did not even falter. You took one hand and grabbed his ear yanking him down. He fell with a thump and you stepped over him. You looked back at Emily, standing beside Morgan, staring at you. She looked devasted and furious. "Goodbye, Prentiss." You haven't called her that in over a year. You stepped out of the doors and left. Leaving the team screaming after you. Garcia came running down the hall at the commotion just in time to see the elevator doors close.

You stepped into your car and drove back to your apartment. You know the team isn't far behind you so you move quick. Just like you practiced. Safe, file, bag, close. Turn, gun under the mattress, wallet on the bed, turn, out the door. You got into your second car no one knew about and took off. As you pulled away 2 SUV's pulled up. From the rearview mirror, you saw JJ and Emily jumping out of the first and running inside. You sighed from grief knowing that was the hardest family to walk away from. You left them, in your apartment. Emily clutching your wallet, Morgan staring at the empty open safe, Reid holding your car keys. You were gone, you pulled an Emily.

#emilyprentiss #criminalminds #aaronhotchner #JJ #garcia #spencerreid #criminalmindsfanfic #criminalmindsxreader #emilyprentissxreader

[nikavit]

It was late night.. I hear door bell and when I open the door, you just step in barely standing on your feet.. Another night in fight club.. Living next door to me, you never talk to me more, than few words each time we see each other, but I have noticed you with cuts and bruises multiple times.. This time everything went wrong, I guess..

-Whumpee?? W-what's wrong with you??

You said nothing, kneeling on the floor, and coughing blood, with hands embraced your stomach, and lean forward.. I kneel next to you, holding you from falling on the floor face down.. Slightly slapping your cheeks didn't bring you to conscious and I have to lay you down and run after water..

When I came back, it feels like you're not breathing.. I lean closer, holding my head over your nose and mouth, watching your bare torso same time.. I can't hear your breath..

Then I put my ear to your chest, over your heart, and hear your heartbeat.. too fast, compared to mine, which is pounding in my heart at this moment..

I quickly tilt your head and push to your chin, opening your mouth.. Cut on your lower lip start bleeding.. I didn't pay attention to that and push my lips to your mouth tightly, pinching your nose before that.. I hold my another hand under your cheen, holding your head steady, whyle I inhale the air.. Your cheeks bulg, your chest expand, than shrink again, exhaling the air.. I inhale again, trying to blow as much air, as possible.. Our lips are intimately interlocked and I can feel salty taste of your blood.. I slide my thumb, cleaning thin trace of blood from your cheen, then keep stroking your fresh shaved skin, whyle I do resuscitation..

Each time I inhale the air, your chest raises, exposing well pumped muscular torso, which I was admiring, each time I see you.. But now, topless, it looks gorgeous..

-C'mon, Whumpee, breath for me!!

I digg my knuckles in your sternum, rubbing, trying to make you breath..

You remain the same.. I gently hold your wrist, feeling your pulse under my fingers, than start resuscitation again..

When I inhale next time, you exhale yourself, making few deep breathes, before you start coughing..

-Sh-shhhh!! Calm down, it's ok, you're ok, I got you..

I stroke your hair, holding my another hand on your chest..

You stare at me, like have never seen me before.. probably, smashed red lipstick, messy hair and fear in my eyes make you worry..

-What happened, why am I here??

You asked me and I hear, that your voice sounds strange, like if you have to push yourself to talk..

-You knocked my door few minutes before.. How do you feel yourself, where is it hurt?? You weren't breathing, what happened to you??

You look at me few moments, like if trying to decide did I deserved to trust me.. Finally you give up and answer..

-I fought.. I guess my ribs are broken and it hurts like hell.. But please, don't call ambulance, I can't go to hospital.. The fight was illegal..

-Ok, let me help you..

I hold your arm pulling you to sit up.. Then I help you to lean on my shoulder and stand, so we can walk to the living room, where you lay on the sofa.. Then I bring you a bag with ice for your ribs and painkillers, which you drink immediately, then tilted back your head with closed eyes.. For a moment I thought, that you lost your consciousness again, but you moan and put away the bag with ice..

-Ok, let it go, I will put ointment on your bruises tomorrow, -I said.- Now take some rest, I'll be by your side..

-Mhm..

You said, even not opening your eyes..

I push the armchair closer to the sofa and sit next to you, cheking your breath and heartbeat from time to time.. You fall asleep with curled legs and embracing your torso, moaning and whimpering in your sleep.. I spend the night on armchair next to you..

[crinkled-emotions]

29. Pet names from the soft prompts list.

Authors choice for ship

BUT make them the most absolutely ridiculous over the top cutesy shit.

Thank you!!

This has Jake and Sav written all over it. ALL over it.

Take that as you will 😂

This is short (same) but sweet (can't relate on that one)

Warnings: mentions of Jake and Sav being tired first parents, the pet name snookums (sorry Rooster)

Jake and Savannah's first baby was a light sleeper who didn't sleep through the night and Sav spent most of the day wiping spit up from various places in their house including her own shoulder and hair.

She sat on the couch for all of two seconds, baby asleep in the bassinet beside her and completely visible. The next time she opened her eyes the baby was gone and she shit bricks for all of thirty seconds before realising Jake was there, gently talking to their tiny little boy in his arms. The baby grizzled and Jake hushed him, glancing over his shoulder.

"Would you look at that, mommy had the best sleep she's had since you were conceived and she looks like she could go for at least another eighteen years."

"You're full of shit, Jake," Savannah yawned. She reached up to tie her hair out of her face, reaching for the baby.

"He probably needs to be fed-"

"-already done."

Jake put Ronan carefully back in his bassinet and then knelt on the couch, kissing Savannah's lips.

"Hey baby. How was your day?"

She reached for him, tangling her fingers in his uniform to pull him close. Jake staggered but caught himself at the last second, hovering over her carefully.

"Darlin', what are you doin'?"

"Jake, shhhh..."

Savannah yanked again and he carefully manoeuvred himself on top of her, bracketing her hips with his legs and a smile.

"Sav, baby, a little context here."

"I... I'm really glad you're home, baby."

"Shit, I am too. Hey, did he do anything cute today?"

"Everything he does is cute. Look; I took pictures."

"You're the best, babe."

Jake flipped them, resting on his back so Savannah could lie on top of him and show him the various baby pictures she'd been taking during the day.

-

A couple weeks later the couple had managed to put some non-stained clothes on and brought the baby over to the beach near the Hard Deck. Ronan went straight into Maverick's arms without complaint, followed by a cuddle from one of Rooster's daughters and Jake took Savannah by the hand, gesturing toward a more secluded place. They sat on the sand, Savannah pulling her jacket tighter around herself with the ocean breeze cooling the temperature. Jake reached over and kissed her.

"How are you feeling?" He whispered. Savannah smiled.

"Better. Ronan's sleeping better already, and I actually managed to wash my hair this morning."

Jake snorted.

"Is this what being a parent is? Celebrating having half an hour to yourself to wash your hair? God damn, how do Rooster and Dee have three?"

"No, J. J, baby, it's so much more. It's celebrating the little moments, all the little smiles you know are just gas, it's the late night feedings and even though my eyes are closed, I know he's right there and he's getting what he needs. It's getting to watch you learn to be the dad he needs."

Savannah squeezed his arm, eyes lighting up ever so slightly in excitement. Jake nodded.

"It's getting to see you be a mom and the way he responds when you walk into a room. It's two more people to fight for."

Savannah smiled.

"You get it, babe. And it's weird, because I adore Ronan and I love everything he does, and Dee said she immediately wanted another when Bree was born, but I... I want to wait."

"Then we wait."

-

"They're disgusting."

"I think I'm gonna puke."

Rooster and Phoenix stood on the sand, arms crossed over their chests as they watched Jake and Savannah have their little moment. Ronan was now in Coyote's arms, dubbed Uncle 'Te by Jake when they found out Savannah was pregnant.

"They need that moment, you two, leave 'em be," Dee playfully scolded her husband and her friend. Pressing a kiss to Rooster's cheek, she gently tapped his ass. Then, just to embarrass him because he was clearly about to humiliate Hangman, she called out rather loudly, "let's go snookums; gotta get the kids to bed."

"Snookums?"

[sfb123]

Dude... dude

This chapter was so intense, so many things!

The pelting raindrops and the howling wind put on quite the show, calming Riley's anxious heart. She used to love quiet moments with her late husband where they could share in the wonder of nature. As the storm continues to brew outside her room, her eyes grow heavy, the soothing sounds of the storm lulling her to sleep.

Rainstorms rule. I have my white noise machine set to thunder storms. This whole part was awesome. Until Liam disappeared again, then I was sad.

I love Olivia for forcing Riley to get her shit together. She's just the right amount of pushy and compassionate.

His large arms envelope her against his chest as he nuzzles his nose into her curls, breathing her in deeply. His voice grows husky as he rests his lips against her head. “I’m going to miss you, Brooks.”

Alexa, play Creep by Radiohead.

“He’s so obvious,” Maxwell giggles, winking at the queen as he takes a sip of a glass of water.

I hope Maxwell also finds it creepy.

P.S. - Maxwell throwing down the nonchalant 'honey' at oblivious Riley made me legit lol.

"It was stolen," Riley interrupts.

My initial thought - So the bad guys went to the crash site and stole the box? How did they even manage that?

^^ Me realizing they would have stolen it before the plane ever took off. 🤦‍♀️

Poor Riley, she needed some good news, and this should have been it, but there are so many bad things happening that she couldn't help but immediately dread this, and what might happen because of it too. 😭

“According to Cordonian law, you’re next in line if something were to happen to me–”

But she's still maintaining a somewhat level head and coming up with bomb ass plans. That's amazing. She's so badass.

I can't wait for more of the Olivia & Amalas vibes. It's this electric, slightly toxic (but maybe/hopefully not in a bad way), clearly there's something there back and forth and I am here for it.

"Hey," he hums softly, "shhhh, it's okay." He pulls her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

It just always comes off as creepy with him. I can't explain it. He's just a fucking problem.

Okay, sorry this is so late, but this was amazing and I can't wait for more!

Pour Two Glasses

Chapter 6: "...Everything's Turned Upside Down"

Need to catch up? Masterlist

✨ Have you checked out this teaser video yet? Pour Two Glasses Teaser✨

Word Count: 6150 (+/-)

Series Synopsis: In the midst of a violent political war, Queen Riley Rys’s life is dismantled overnight, forcing her to flee Cordonia to live in hiding as a commoner with a loyal, best friend

Series Song Inspo: “Pour Two Glasses” by the Movielife

Chapter Song Inspo: "Broken Pieces Shine" by Evanescence

Series Warnings: 🔞 For Mature Audiences Only 🔞 angst; profanity; major character death; grief and mental health discussion; discussion of violence & war; alcohol use; NSFW material

A/N: I don't say this enough, so I hope it's okay I start this A/N with this message... to my beautiful readers: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I loved dreaming up this story, and knowing that y'all want more warms my heart! Thank you for all the messages, all the questions, and all of the encouragement! Please know I see each and every one of y'all, and I love y'all so dearly! Y'all are a huge part of P2G, and I can't thank you enough for being so kind! Sending out major hugs to each of y'all! 🖤

A/N 2: Characters and some plot references belong to our friends at Pixelberry. To my village, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH helping me bring this story to life! This was not beta'd, so please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Riley spends most of her recovery time alone, secluded from the outside world. The stillness of the lonely mornings melt into the mundane hustle of the afternoons, and although time seems to pass before her eyes in a whirlwind blur, to the fallen queen, it trudges along slowly, creeping into her least favorite part of the day: the dark, listless nights.  

Due to the multiple terrorist threats made against the monarchy, not to mention the two bombs found during a routine sweep of the palace, the royal guard, the local police along with Interpol agreed the safest place for the queen of Cordonia was inside her hospital room despite being discharged days ago. 

Her physical therapist would visit on Mondays and Wednesdays while her doctors would visit Tuesdays and Fridays to ensure her recovery was on track. Healthcare workers were available upon request, but they would be accompanied by armed guards.

Drake, Olivia and Maxwell were given special clearance, and they kept to a round-the-clock schedule to ensure Riley was never alone.

That is, until she sent them away after the first week. Watching them grow ill with concern over her well-being added to her grief, and she hated being the reason for their stolen joy. Riley knew they meant well, and they never, ever complained for sitting by her side in complete silence.  Even Maxwell toned down his enthusiasm in his attempts to make her happy.  But Riley could see them slipping away into different versions of themselves, and the guilt festered in her heart.

Rarely sleeping and barely eating, Riley stopped taking her pain medications. She never would admit to her masochistic reasoning, but the physical discomfort served as a welcomed distraction from the agony she felt internally. She felt like she had little to no control over her life, but this, in a very sick, twisted way, this was hers.

It’s the following Friday, the small hours of the morning. Riley tosses and turns for another restless night of sleep as memories of only two weeks ago flash through her mind. Her husband’s funeral. The assassination attempt. Her own life unknowingly in the balances during a critical surgery.

With a subtle rumble in the distance, she opens an eye, and quickly notices the gathered rainclouds outside her lone, two-paned hospital window. Sitting up, she pulls on Liam’s sweatshirt before scooting the reclining chair in her room closer to the view of the angry sky.

The pelting raindrops and the howling wind put on quite the show, calming Riley's anxious heart. She used to love quiet moments with her late husband where they could share in the wonder of nature. As the storm continues to brew outside her room, her eyes grow heavy, the soothing sounds of the storm lulling her to sleep.

A sudden clap of lightning rips across the gray Cordonian sky, startling Riley awake.  She quickly sits up, her chest heaving as her eyes adjust to the darkness of her master bedroom. Feeling her pulse rapidly thrum in her ears, she reaches for her husband; but she is met with cold, barren sheets, tossed against her side.

“Liam?”  She sits on the side of the bed, slipping her house shoes on before standing to grab her robe. “Liam?” She cries out once more before the storm outside ignites the angry clouds with another crash of thunder. Gripping the fabric of her lapels in terror, she watches hypnotically as the countryside dims back into the darkness of night.

“Riley, my love.”  

Riley turns with a gasp.  Liam stands at the open French doors that lead to their balcony. The powerful winds flounce the curtains, billowing around his tall stature.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, darling." He takes Riley into his arms, laying her head intimately against his chest. "Did the storm wake you?"

At that moment, another crackle of thunder resounds, Riley instantly turning her attention to the open doors. Puddles gather around the terrace as sheets of rain pummel against the stone walls. Feeling her tremble in his arms, Liam tightens his embrace nuzzling his nose into his wife's dark locks.

"Mom used to point out how powerful the weather can be. Devastating homes. Sinking ships… and yet–" he takes a deep breath, "we're still here."

Riley loosens her grip. The cascades of heavenly water pour in a synchronized dance with the rumbles of thunder. The zephyr symphony lulls her into a trance as she marvels at the strength of the storm. Fierce. Intense.

And yet, we're still here.

"You'll survive this, too, my love–"

"Survive what–?" Riley looks up to her husband.

But he's gone; his arms no longer around her as his scent dissipates from the air they once shared.  But something strange is left hanging in her hands: a small, worn receiving blanket, the name 'William' embroidered in the corner. 

Huh?

Riley swivels anxiously around the room, her eyes wide as saucers. "Liam?" She cries out. "Please, baby," she looks in the other direction, but her husband is no where to be found. "Liam… I… I don't know…" her breath hitches, growing ragged as she finally slumps onto the ground. She looks at the blanket, her fingers tracing over the delicate stitching. "How, my love–?" She whispers under her sobs of helplessness. "How am I supposed to survive… without you?"

Suddenly, a bright light pours over her, the warmth of the sun shining on her porcelain skin.

“We’re not doing this anymore.”

Riley's eyes peek open, being met with beams of sunlight pouring through the window. She sees someone moving about the room, but her exhaustion refuses to allow her eyes to focus, and she quickly slumps back over.

"You need to get up, Riley."

Without warning, Riley’s blankets are abruptly pulled from her body. She sits up in her chair, rubbing her eyes. "Huh?"

"C'mon. Up, up!"

Finally coming to her senses, Riley zeroes in on the redhead bossing her around. And she scowls, relaxing back into her chair. "Olivia, I… come back later."

"No, ma'am." Olivia taps a lever on the recliner, shoving Riley into an upright position. "You are going to shower. I laid out some clothes for you," the duchess crosses her arms, "and you are going to rejoin the living."

"But–"

"Now," she claps her hands. "Scoot!"

Riley jumps up, grumbling under her breath as she moseys to the shower. Hearing the water turn on, Olivia smirks, playfully dusting off her hands. Satisfied with herself, she grabs a magazine and takes a seat, crossing her legs in victory.

After about twenty minutes, Riley emerges with a towel wrapped around her head along with a pair of jeans and a cotton tee.

"There. Happy, bossy britches?"

"Almost," Olivia offers a crooked smile. "Now that we've–eh–hosed you down, we need to work on getting that odor out of here. It smells like someone died in here–"

"Didn't they?" Refusing to make eye-contact, Riley remains stoic, down-trodden.  She moves the linens around on her bed before curling up with a pillow.

"No." Olivia stands up, sauntering to her friend's bed. "They didn't." She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, Riley's back facing her. "You, my dear, are very much alive. And it's time you start living as such."

"Liv, I…" Riley sighs. "I just don't feel like going out and rejoining society right now."

"Who said anything about rejoining society?" She takes Riley's hand. "I said that it's time to start living like you're alive." Riley turns around, arching a curious brow at Olivia. "I'm not saying you need to stop grieving; but I am going to make you shower. And eat. And not waste away."

A stale stillness falls between the old friends as Riley pulls the covers over her body.  "I'm not in the mood," she mutters, sinking into her pillow.

Olivia lets out a heavy breath, standing up. She refuses to give up, unwilling to leave the queen's room. She leisurely paces around the space, folding and refolding her hands.  The resounding click-clack of her steps are hypnotic, almost soothing as she twists her crimson pout in deep thought. 

She understands that Riley is in mourning, and even though Olivia loved him, too, nothing would compare to the great loss of true love. But, still, she hates seeing Riley like this; they all do. But truth be told on matters of the heart, there is only one person that can get through to her.

"What would Liam say?"

Riley slowly turns, looking over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"Your husband," Olivia steps forward confidently, clasping her hands together.  "He died a hero, protecting our country, protecting me… and you. What would he say now if he saw you like this?"

Riley furrows her eyebrows, her hands balling into fists. How dare she. Was Olivia seriously trying to make Riley feel guilty for grieving her late husband? For grieving the life she was starting with him? For grieving the life she was supposed to have with him?

"Olivia, I–"

"You'll survive this, too," Olivia interrupts.

The irritated expression on Riley's face abruptly melts into pure shock.  Her eyes as Liam's words replay in her mind.

You'll survive this, too.

"I… I'm sorry, I …" she shakes her head in disbelief, "what did you say?"

"Ri," Olivia bounds to her side, grabbing Riley's hand endearingly in her hold. "You are one tough broad. You have proven that time and time again." Her lip begins to tremble, but she quickly stiffens her jaw. "Liam knew that. Hell, that's one of the reasons he fell in love with you." She sighs, her gaze bouncing back and forth in Riley's deep ocean eyes. "Losing Liam will be one of the most awful challenges you will ever have to face… but somehow wherever he is, I have to believe he is taking comfort that you are strong enough for this." She squeezes tightly on Riley’s fingers. "You'll survive this, too."

Riley stares at Olivia, processing what she was saying–especially the words that seemed to mirror Liam's. 

And they're right.  It feels like hell right now, and Riley can't even begin to fathom a life without her beloved… but he would want better for her.  He lived a life so that she could have better.

It was time to start living.

------

"You're cheating!" Maxwell hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Olivia.

"I am not, Beaumont," the Scarlet Duchess shuffles through the cards in her hands. "You're just not good at counting to twenty-one."

"You've won each time you've been the dealer." He throws down his cards. "Shenanigans!"

Hugging her stomach tightly, Riley can’t help but laugh uncontrollably, her sides already in stitches. “Stop!” She gasps for air as she continues to titter. “I–I can’t!”  She falls forward on her bed, her head hitting a pillow as her giggles fill the room.  Maxwell and Olivia join in on the laughter, giving each other a subtle nod of relief. She’s coming back to life.

The three friends have spent most of the morning together at the hospital, catching up and playing games. To her visitor’s surprise, Riley decided she wanted to take a walk around the hospital–to areas that had been cleared by the royal guard, of course.

Together, they meandered to the hospital’s private prayer garden on a terrace just outside the pediatric floor. The warmth of the sun on her skin and the fresh scent of the potted greenery exhilarated her senses.  The natural pink tone of her skin quickly returned to her cheeks, highlighting her genuinely bright smile as she scrunched her nose at the floral smells.

On the way back to her room, Riley walked by the newborn nursery.  Stopping at the large window that showcased several cooing babies, wrapped in pink and blue receiving blankets, she pressed her fingertips gently against the glass, admiring each one silently. Although tears gather in her eyes, she begins to quietly talk to each chubby face, fussing over how adorable they are.

“Oh, you’re going to be trouble, mister, with those dimples…”

“Look at those beautiful black curls!”

“I know your mommy and daddy must love you so much…”  

If only…

Finally making it back to her assigned floor, the friends were greeted by Riley’s primary physician and his assistant along with the best news ever: the palace passed its final security check.  All Riley needed now was clearance through Interpol and one more physical–per the request of the Royal Council to ensure her health–and she would soon be on her way back home.  

As the healthcare team exits, a sudden wave of surreality washes over the room. Going home. Riley hasn’t been home in almost three weeks, and even before that, she hasn’t slept in her own bed since the start of the Royal Wake. What would be waiting for her when she walked into her quarters?  Is everything waiting for her to come home exactly how she left it?  Exactly how he left it?

Biting her lip, she takes a moment of silence, her hand finding Liam’s rings on her necklace. She fiddles with his wedding band, the jewelry easily gliding onto her pointer finger.  And that’s when she feels it: the inscription inside the gold band. And her eyes flutter close. Pour Two Glasses. Everything would be expecting her return.

Except him.

Riley shakes her head, glancing back up at Maxwell and Olivia. Giving them an appreciative grin, she grabs the deck of cards on her bedside table, blinking away her tears. “Best two out of three?”

------

The three friends have been playing for a little over an hour when there’s an abrupt knock at the door.  A large smile grows across Riley’s face as the familiar smirk of her royal guard saunters into the room.

“There’s my hero,” Riley singsongs. From her bed, she extends her arms in the air, inviting Drake into a hug.  A blush swirls across his cheeks as he leans in, tucking her petite body under his chin.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers before gently letting her go.

“I’m okay,” Riley nods. “I’m gonna be okay.”  She pats the mattress next to her. “C’mon, partner,” she mimics a Texan accent. “Let’s teach these two how to play Texas Hold ‘Em.”  Olivia rolls her eyes as Maxwell titters, pretending to throw a lasso around Drake.

Drake chuckles, pushing a fist into his pocket as he stares at the ground. “I wish I could, but–”  he combs his fingers through his thick, chestnut hair as he gazes back up at his friends. “I got lucky and found a plane out of Munich at 5AM, so… I’m taking a train there. Tonight.”

“Oh my gosh,” Riley’s face etches with shock. “So soon?”

“When does the train leave?” Olivia’s eyebrows pinch together.

“In about–” he looks at his watch before snickering to himself. “About two hours.”  A stillness falls across the friends, sharing sad, concerned looks. “C’mon, you guys,” Drake attempts to lighten the mood. “We knew this day was coming… and I’m coming back.”

“When?” Maxwell questions softly.

“I guess… when Mom…” he gnaws on the inside of his mouth, searching for the right words. “When… everything is taken care of, I guess.”

Riley climbs out of bed, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Don’t forget where your home is, Walker,” she sniffles.

“Like you’d let me forget?” He chuckles. His large arms envelope her against his chest as he nuzzles his nose into her curls, breathing her in deeply. His voice grows husky as he rests his lips against her head. “I’m going to miss you, Brooks.”

Riley pulls back, resting her hand on his upper arm. “I’m going to miss you, too.” A coy smile teases on his lips as a twinkle of hope illuminates his cognac eyes–that is, until Riley continues. “You’ve always been such a great friend.  Liam sure hit the jackpot with you–” she turns to Maxwell and Olivia, “--with all of you.”

Drake nods agreeably, looking away from his best friend’s widow, chastising himself for having such fleeting thoughts of hope. He turns to Maxwell to give him a firm handshake before turning to Olivia. “Can I… talk to you? For a second?”  He whispers to the redhead before looking back at Riley and Maxwell. He holds his hand up, waving goodbye before exiting the room with Olivia right behind him.

Riley glances towards Maxwell, offering a sympathetic grin and shrugging her shoulders. Their group of friends is shrinking, but at least they have each other.

“He’s so obvious,” Maxwell giggles, winking at the queen as he takes a sip of a glass of water.

Riley scrunches her eyebrows. “Obvious? About what?”

Maxwell freezes, staring at Riley as an awkward silence floods between them. “Uh… Nevermind, honey–”

They both startle as Olivia bounds back into the room, slipping back into her seat. Without making eye-contact, she crosses her legs before grabbing her playing cards, mindlessly rearranging them in her hand. She's unusually quiet and pensive, her eyebrows slightly wrinkled as she appears to be deep in thought about something.

"Is… everything okay?" Riley asks.

She peers up to Riley nervously, but within moments, a crooked smile forms on her cherry red pout. "Yes… of course."  She glances back at her cards, but it's useless; there's too much she needs to say. "Ri, do you know what a black box is?"

"Like on a plane?" Maxwell clarifies with curiosity, folding his cards and resting them on the table.  Olivia nods slowly as her attention shifts back to Riley.

"It records sounds, right?" Riley starts, her tone cautiously meek. "Sounds from inside the plane? So in the event it… it… well, you know…"  Olivia softly bounces her head affirmatively, rolling her lips. "Did something happen?" Riley nervously titters, glancing at a confused Maxwell. "Was there something… something terrible on Liam’s recording?"

Olivia folds her cards, tapping the stack on the table. "No, it's just…" her words trail off as she remains lost in thought.

"Liv," Riley crosses her arms. "What are you trying to hide?" 

Olivia sighs. "My apologies. I guess I'm trying to process it myself. Apparently the guard had their weekly briefing last night with Interpol. Drake had to turn in some last minute paperwork for his leave, so he was in attendance." 

"What does this have to do with the black box?" Maxwell interjects.

"It's gone," Olivia blurts out. "It was never recovered from Liam's plane. So, there's a strong possibility that–"

"It was stolen," Riley interrupts.

"Precisely, meaning this was orchestrated by the coup somehow."

"Wait," Maxwell holds up his hands, "how did anyone know that was Liam's plane though? How would they know to specifically steal from that plane? Wasn't he supposed to be traveling incognito?"

Olivia nods, exhaling heavily. "They're launching an investigation… for possible espionage." 

"An inside job?" Riley croaks, a lump forming in her throat. "From Cordonia?"

"We don't know just yet," Olivia reassures, "that's why they're looking into it.  But I'm thinking they need some help… and I know just the person to ask."

Riley's room door suddenly slides open, surprising the group of friends.  The doctor slowly steps in with the queen's medical chart, a solemn, almost grim expression etched on his face.

"I'm not sure I like the worried look in your eyes, sir," Riley anxiously giggles. "Don't tell me I'm staying here longer."

"Oh," he cordially forces a grin. "Your security, as well as the international police have cleared everything–"

"So she gets to go home?" Maxwell's breath baits with hope and excitement.

"Yes, yes. You get to go home. The guard will be in touch with you soon."

"Oh, thank God," Olivia smirks.

"Finally!" Maxwell exclaims, standing to his feet and ready to pack.

But Riley stays silent, her attention fixed on her physician. She can tell he has more to say. She can sense a sadness in his demeanor, putting her on edge, not ready to celebrate her homecoming just yet.

"What aren't you telling me, doctor?" She asks softly. "Is it my physical? Am… am I okay?"

The older man sets down Riley's chart, resting his hand on top of it as his endearing eyes find hers. "We need to talk."

"Is it serious?" Olivia interjects.

With a heavy sigh, the physician turns towards Maxwell and Olivia. "How about you two give us just a minute alone–?"

"No," Riley stops him. "I need… Can I have someone…?" Riley looks between Olivia and Maxwell, having a silent conversation of who should stay.

"I'll step out," Maxwell grabs his phone. "Let me make sure the guard is bringing an SUV and not a sedan," he winks.

As the door closes, the older man cautiously sits down next to Riley, taking her hand. She squeezes it tightly, preparing herself for the news he was about to share with her. Was something wrong? Was she dying?

"Never in a million years did I think you and I would be having this conversation," he exhales, pinching the bridge between his eyes. "This… this is completely out of my scope of practice, so I will be referring you to a specialist, but–"

"Sir," Riley stops him. "Please… just… tell me the truth."

------

Riley paces back and forth, ringing her hands in between biting her nails.

“Will you sit down–?”

“And what, Olivia?” She tosses her hands in the air, allowing her arms to slap carelessly against her sides.  “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Olivia scoffs, “for starters, you are going to calm down–”

“Calm down?” Riley twirls around, a wave of fury crashing over her features. Her blood-shot eyes stare daggers into her red-headed friend.   “You heard the damn doctor. This… this can’t be happening.  And… you…”  she presses a hand to her chest, her breathing labors as a sob rips through her chest. “You actually expect me to be okay? With this?”

“Riley,” Olivia calls her name sternly, “take a moment. Things could–”

“--could be worse?” She finishes her words.  “How, Livvy?”  She covers her face with her hands as she wanders aimlessly in the room. “Oh God,” she whispers hoarsely, her voice hidden by her tears. “When this gets out–”

“It won’t.”

Riley tisks, mocking Olivia. “This won’t stay a secret for long. And when it gets out, an even bigger bullseye will be painted on my back. They hate the Rys name. They will attack again–”

“Other monarchs have gone through similar situations, and their health concerns have been kept under wraps.  The council will be sure of it–”

“The council?” Riley looks off, shaking her head. “They already want to get rid of me. You know the law. I can no longer serve as the reigning queen. I’m not Cordonian–-”

“You will always be a queen, Riley.  The council will support you–”

“--they’ll expedite getting rid of me.”  Riley collapses into the recliner in her room. She hangs her head in her arms as her elbows rest on her knees. “The council is looking out for what’s best for Cordonia, especially now that the throne has been attacked–not once, but twice. They’re searching for stability; they’re looking to rebuild their leadership, and that starts with the throne. I fear that… I fear that as long as there's still a Rys, Cordonia will never see peace.”

Olivia pulls her chair closer, laying a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “The war won't last forever. And this? This could be your ticket. The throne is the only thing left to protect you–”

 “These traitors want every part of the Rys name destroyed, and without Liam, my days on the throne are already numbered. When they find out…” she exhales a pained breath.  “Even If I could hide behind the council, the Combattants will return to finish the job. They know I’m still here. I’m on every goddamn news report!”

“Riley, you–”

“I can’t do this.” She abruptly stands up, rushing past Olivia as she grabs her suitcase.  She begins piling her belongings into the dividers. “I need to go–”

“Home,” Olivia interjects, placing her hands on Riley’s trembling hands. "Let's take you home where you're safe."

Riley shakes her head. “N–no, I need to go. I need to leave.” She grabs her phone. “I need a ticket back to the States–”

“Riley Rys. Slow. The fuck. Down. You’re not thinking–”

“I can’t be here another moment. I have to go. I need to hide–”

“Where? Where are you going to hide?” Olivia scoffs, folding her arms. “Even if you could, all air travel has been suspended to and from Cordonia until further notice.  That’s why poor Walker had to take a train.”

Riley stills. She glances over at her friend as an abrupt realization washes over her expression.

Drake.

“You.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“According to Cordonian law, you’re next in line if something were to happen to me–”

“Hold up,” Olivia raises her hands in surrender. “If, and that’s a big if, something were to happen to you, yes, I would be crowned. But, that’s not how this works. You’re still alive, therefore the council–”

“What if I was incapacitated?” 

Olivia lets out a condescending laugh. “You are being ridiculous, you know that?”

“No, I’m being serious.” Riley grips tightly to Olivia’s shoulders, forcing her to listen. “The council hasn’t stripped me of my title as reigning queen yet, and as long as I’m the reigning monarch, I can claim a medical leave-of-absence… which means–”

“You appoint the replacement during the hiatus," Olivia smirks sarcastically, pulling away from Riley's. "Not gonna happen."

"Olivia, please."

"And what are you going to do? Huh? You still need medical care. Hiding isn't exactly easy when you're the queen of an entire country–"

"But–"

"--that is grieving their king–"

"But–"

"--and their queen has been all over international news for surviving an assassination attempt." Riley huffs, rolling her eyes as Olivia continues. "You'll leave fingerprints everywhere you go. And I'm not saying they're going to try and track you down… but those bastards were able to find Liam. Running and hiding? It… it's pointless. Stay. Trust the council. We can protect you."

Riley chews on her lip, her attention locked on her friend. "No. That's not good enough. Not anymore." Her eyelids flutter as she takes a deep breath. "I think I've got an idea."

------

The rhythmic pulse of the train car lulls Drake into a hypnotic relaxed state, and before long, he succumbs to the exhaustion of the past six weeks. Resting his head against the window, he watches as the Cordonian countryside flashes before his vision until finally his eyes close. 

Furrowing his brows, however, he hears loud, indiscernible voices outside of his state room.  When the conversation finally ends, he readjusts himself in his chair, using his discarded denim shirt as a make-shift pillow.

His door abruptly slides open.

Fuck.

He grimaces, quickly turning to address his unwanted interruption.

But his face falls in shock.

"Brooks?"

"Hi," she smiles meekly, removing her oversized sunglasses and hat. "Can I… come in?"

"Yeah," Drake jumps up, removing his carry-on bags from the second seat. He gestures to the spot next to him. "Please."

Riley gingerly sits down, her eyes transfixed to the gorgeous scenery flashing by outside the large train window.  Drake slowly lowers himself into his chair, his disbelief frozen on his face as he stares at his good friend.

Feeling his gaze on her, Riley tears away from her reverie. She chuckles nervously, coyly shrugging her shoulders. "Surprised?"

The corner of Drake's mouth turns up. "That's one way to put it." He runs a hand through his thick, tousled hair as he notices her bandages peeking through her shirt. "I'm guessing you were given the 'all clear'? They discharged you?" 

Riley's attention averts back to the window, staring at the whirls of the evergreen hills melting with the watercolor sky. Her eyes begin to glaze over, forgetting to even blink as she mindlessly chews on her bottom lip.  She holds her hands in her lap, ringing them incessantly as she fidgets with her fingers. 

"Riley?"

She blinks quickly, her attention returning to Drake, his hand gripping onto her arm to steady her. “Hrmm?”

"I've been calling your name for a few minutes." His eyebrows knit with worry. "Are you… are you okay?"

Riley opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She picks at her chipped manicure as she presses her tongue to her cheek.

"I, um… I need your help." She glances back up to Drake, her eyes wide in fear.

"O…Kay. Sure," he leans closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ri, what's going on?"

------

The clatter of heels reverberates through the main corridor of the ultra-modern, ultra-sleek estate of Monterisso.  Though she has not come across another soul, she knows plenty of eyes are hidden in nooks and crannies, watching her every move in the form of motion detectors and cameras. Coming to the pristine royal office, she gives a firm knock on the oversized, cherry wood door before inviting herself in.

"Olivia Nevrakis." A sultry voice calls from the large, tufted leather chair on the opposite side of the room.

The red head sardonically snickers before crossing her arms, popping her hip to the side. "Alright, Amalas," she sasses, "how did you know it was me?"

A beautiful woman with long espresso tresses and darkened, exotic features slowly turns her chair around to face her visitor.  She smirks at her long-time friend, extending her arm to show off her impressive display of monitors with live-feed surveillance to every entrance into the palace.

The Scarlet Duchess wriggles up her nose, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

"You know?" Amalas stands up, sauntering her curves slowly to her icy guest. "Most people address me as 'your majesty'--"

"Not today," Olivia bites, raising an eyebrow. 

Amalas sighs, leaning against the front-side of her desk. “What do you want, Livvy?”

"I have an important proposal for you."

“We don’t have an appointment.”

“I need your help.”

The Spy Queen steps forward, crossing her arms. "You? You are in need of some help?" She lets out a boisterous laugh as she sneaks closer to her unexpected guest. She motions with her pointer finger for Olivia to come closer to listen. "You know," she whispers, "you were supposed to call me the next morning."

With a deep rouge blossoming across her cheeks, Olivia steps back, scoffing into a chuckle. Amalas furrows her eyebrows with a mischievous smirk.

Checkmate.

Four months ago, after years of stolen glances and secret trysts, Amalas invited Olivia to her estate for a low-key, intimate weekend to discuss the possibilities of taking their relationship to the next level. And public. After one last night of passion, Amalas woke up to an empty bed with a note that said, 'I'll call. -Liv"

She never did.

Now with Olivia seeking a favor, Amalas is tickled. As far as good deeds, alliances and negotiations, she just made it abundantly clear that she has the upper-hand. And Olivia just realized she fucked up.

Satisfied with her visitor’s reaction, Amalas turns on her heel and walks back to her desk. "You can see yourself out."

The red head sneers into a sarcastic snicker, stepping forward. "Oh c'mon, Amalas–"

"If you didn't need me then," Amalas spins around, irritated. "You don't need me now, Nevrakis." She takes a seat before shuffling through some folders and papers. "Oh,” she looks up, void of emotion, “please shut the door when you leave. Thanks."

Olivia storms forward. "Amalas, this isn't about me–about us. This is for Cordonia and finding who was responsible for Liam's death–"

Amalas stops abruptly, a stack of papers held motionless in her hand. Swallowing thickly, she glances up at Olivia. "Liam's death… was an unfortunate result of this damn war."

"Yes, but he was a mediator."

Amalas raises an eyebrow. "Your point?"

Olivia puts her palms flat on the large, ornate wooden desk. "My point is that they always protect political mediators. Liam's location was always highly confidential. No one, and I mean no one knew his whereabouts."

Amalas stacks her document on her desk. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she leans back in her chair, resting her chin on her palm. "So?"

"That plane was obliterated, Ams. Someone hunted it down and destroyed every last piece of it.”

The queen smirks. “And did you know that Les Combattants de la Liberté are military-trained?”

“But–”

“Military-trained,” Amalas holds up a hand, her words louder.  “Taking out Liam’s aircraft like that?” She shakes her head slowly. “It’s not a huge feat for them. They are literally trained to take out any enemy in the blink of an eye.”

“Ams,” Olivia subtly wipes away a tear before clenching her jaw. “You’re not listening to me.”

Amalas sighs. "Look." She lowers her voice, her eyes finding Olivia’s piercing jades. “Liam was a friend of mine, too, babe.” She bites her lip, turning to a gold picture frame on the corner of her desk.  The photograph hosts a pair of young, bright smiles, she in her lacy white and him looking dapper than ever. A lump forms in Amalas’s throat as she begins to fidget with the gold band that remains on her left finger. “I know when something tragic happens to the ones we love, we want someone to pay for it, as if revenge will somehow heal our loneliness because the grief alone is too heavy–much too heavy for one person to bear–”

“The black box is missing,” Olivia interjects.

Amalas's face slowly falls into a suspicious confusion, her forehead wrinkling. “What?”

“The black box. You know? It’s supposed to record–”

Amalas holds up her hand, “Yeah, yeah, I know. What do you mean it’s missing?”

“I mean it’s never been recovered.”

Amalas’s jaw ticks as she stares at Olivia. Silence consumes the room, save for the ticking of the queen's watch, growing painfully louder by the second. But without warning, intrigue finally blooms across Amalas’s face, and her heart softens to hear Olivia’s request. Justice for Liam. Justice for Cordonia.

The black box is designed to withstand the blistering temperatures of a fire and the crushing impact of the engulfing pressures of the deep. The thought of such precious equipment, of actual recordings of the last moments of that cockpit, of King Liam… if they were actually removed with malicious intent, then Olivia is right. Classified information was leaked, Liam was specifically targeted, and this coup is a lot more dangerous and a lot more in control of this war than projected.

“Well, Ms. Nevrakis, I believe you have my attention.”  

Olivia smirks as she pulls up a chair.  

“Oh!” Amalas stands up from her desk, “I’m sorry. Just… not right now.” She looks at her watch.  “I actually have a very important meeting right now.”

Olivia scoffs. “With who?”

“Oddly enough, I have an important meeting with the Queen of Cordonia.”

A Cheshire grin crawls across Olivia’s face as she opens up her arms as if to present herself as a gift. “Well, oddly enough, the Queen of Cordonia is already in your presence.”  Shock consumes Amalas as her jaw drops open, Olivia snickering under her breath. “You can address me as ‘your majesty,’ Queen Amalas.”

------

"I–I don't know… how to say this," Riley stammers, anxiously pulling at her necklace that held her late husband's rings. 

Drake keeps his gaze locked on her, a pit growing in his stomach. They had said their goodbyes less than three hours ago; what could possibly have changed?

Was it a threat? Was her life being threatened again by the Combattants? No way. This wouldn't warrant the queen of Cordonia herself to board a train in hopes to catch her former royal guard to deliver such a message. Drake would probably get a phone call about it, but as of yesterday, he was relieved from his duties until further notice.

So… what was it?

“Riley?” His voice is gruff, but sincere. Their gazes meet, a vacant sadness in her eyes as she searches his for… something. Strength? Hope? Understanding?

Drake stops her from fidgeting with her jewelry, taking her petite hand into his own large, calloused palm. "It's… it's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to, but I–"

"Drake, I–" Her eyelashes flutter closed as tears course down her pink stained skin. "--I'm so sorry, I–"

"Hey," he hums softly, "shhhh, it's okay." He pulls her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He gently rubs a thumb over her skin to gently dry her cheeks. "Listen," his voice remains low, soothing. "You have nothing to be sorry about. It's been," he sighs, "a rough couple of months, and… well, no matter what, Brooks, you know I'm here for–"

“I’m pregnant.”

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

POUR TWO GLASSES

@busywoman @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @veebug8

[yourlocalstranger123]

Hi!idk if your requests are still open but can you write about the demon brothers(obey me!) Getting comforted by MC after a nightmare?ofc if they aren't open you can ignore my request!thx in advance

Obey me! [Brothers]

~♥︎Comfort♡~

.

.

.

~

Lucifer

As always, he works quite late. Exhausted, he fell on the bed. Not even bothering to change his clothes to more comfortable clothes.

After a few hours, you came in to check up on him but seeing his tired state you decided to make him move into a more suitable position and put the blankets over him. You tried to walk out but almost stumbled when Lucifer grabbed your hand.

"No...no, no no...!" His grip getting tighter, it was starting to get painful too. You slightly shook him to wake him up.

"Luci?...Are you alright? You can talk to me if you want." Due to his exhausted state, he didn't have any energy to put up with his pride and slithered his hands to your waist. He didn't say anything, silently sobbing onto your chest as he didn't dare to let go.

"Shhhh....it's ok, everything is ok. Let it all out." Soothing him, stroking his hair. You stayed still for a while until he fell asleep.

The next day, you both were doing things as if it hadn't happened. Although now you have Lucifer knocking on your door to come in and lay in bed with you. Slowly sinking into your warmth as you comfort him.

"You are my pride and...I love you, darling/[name]"

Mammon

@moonartz123 (sorry if you didn't allow people to use it. I just found your art on Pinterest since I couldn't find any other 😅 if you are not comfortable I will take the picture down and use a different one.)

Although sometimes he does come to you with silly little nightmares like Goldie being taken away by Lucifer. But this one is different, he came up balling in tears. Just putting his head on your lap as you do homework. As he tells you his nightmare. You kissed his forehead to Soothe his panic as his breathing starts to get more stable.

You slept with him through the night. Later you have an avatar of greed clinging to you. Hugging behind you, putting his head on your shoulder, etc. He smiles at you when you didn't shoo him off.

"I think I already found a new treasure. It's you and only you [name]"

Levi

Credit: obey me lol

You were on your phone doing etc. Suddenly you got a text message from Levi to come to him. You thought it was probably playing video games since it is pretty common for him to invite you at the strangest time.

You knocked on the door quietly to not wake up the others. He swings the door open and grabs you in his room. He doesn't let go so you just guide him to his bed. (Aka his bathtub) ....he ripped his pillows. (Not the ruri-chan one. The normal ones)

You did not feel comfortable sleeping with your head on a body pillow so you just decided today was the day you broke the neck for the sake of his comfort.

Later he got embarrassed and avoided you, not because of the nightmare. More like he was sleeping on top of you. Now he can't look you in the eyes for a few weeks.

"No way! Me, A yucky Otaku!....although I do wish to do it again with you so don't do it to others and only me [name]!"

Satan

I'm pretty sure this one is from obey me too.

You only came to him when you heard a loud

*Boom!*

It was Satan. Hah....I guess you'll pay since you didn't want Lucifer have extra paper work to get that fix-

"What's wrong Satan?" He looked up to you as he softens. He walked up to you and launched at you. You fell to the floor. It didn't really hurt though. You got up and carried/led him to your room where you got a cat who was injured but almost fully healed.

*Flashback*

"Seriously Satan?" You mentally smacked your forehead "you want me to keep the cat you found that is injured because Luci has a high chance of finding it?"

"Yes. I am serious! Just...for me? Please??"

'....damn those cat eyes of his!-' (also the cats too)

*Back to present*

"Satan...you can't cling to me while holding onto the cat." His face shows in disbelief.

(More like pouting.)

Later you guys slept on the bed while the cat was in Satan's arms. The next day everyone gets even MORE TERRIFIED

As he walked around with a huge eating grin. I guess his day got better.

"Thank you for calming me down, my peace/[name]"

Asmodeus

Pin/post by Envi on asmodeus obey me art

You were getting ready to get the makeup that Asmodeus requested at midnight. You saw him tremble. You softly poked his face to wake him up.

He started tearing up, wrapping his arms around your neck/waist. You sighed and just rub in a circling motion on his back. His throat was too dry so you gave him a bottle of water as you get ready and turned on the bathtub.

(Also I forgot, you are helping him with his skin care routine and makeup)

He thanked you for taking care of him. Now the rest of the day he kisses you!

Although he purposely kissed you with lipstick, and the bad thing is that it's hard to wipe off! That sly fox.

Scenario:

Bold is reader/you

"What do I need to do to comfort you?"

"F—ck me with loving s*x"

"What."

"..."

"..."

"Why do you have a rope-

HEY, WAIT‐ HELP MEEEE!"

. . .

"I love you, my blossom/name" (you know in anime, sometimes people confess under a blossom tree)

Beel

Credit: Origarnic on DeviantArt

He knocked at your door. Hiding his face in his pillow now is soaked with tears.

You let him in. You let him hug you as long as he wants. But you asked him to let go so you can make food for him since it usually makes him cheer up. Especially your signature food.

He followed you like a lost puppy, he always felt so full when he is around you. He loved your S/F

(Signature food)

It makes him so happy, feeling the love and warmth you put in the food. Oh how he loves you, he doesn't feel empty when he's around you.

"Thank you for the food my amazing, lovingly chef/[name]" :D

Belphie

You always sleep with him but this one time you couldn't sleep with him.

He was so used to sleeping with you, so now he's just laying there frustrated. (How could you leave him like this!) So he just gave in to sleeping pills that he secretly bought in case if you can't sleep.

(Now he's using it)

That was a bad choice. You have never seen him walking so fast down the hallway. He fell on you. You felt a few tears on your shoulder but didn't mind.

.

.

.

☆

Everyone was looking at you. Belphie was sleeping on your back/being carried.

Damn. You are hella strong.

"I love you, my Dream catcher"

Or

"I love you, my dreamily love/[name]"

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

Hii! I read your freshest works and they were so awesome as always! You are so talented. I know your requests are closed but may i ask if you can do yan! EJ comforting his s/o if you open requests 💖

The Heart Wants What It Wants(Yandere Eyeless Jack x Reader)

A/N: Thank you! You’re very sweet anon 🥺💕 Here you go! I know it's late, but I hope you end up liking it🍵 I made a little scenario if that's okay!

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, toxic relationships, Yandere themes, hurt/comfort, mentions of cheating, fluff,

You can't breathe, your vision is blurred by tears that sting your eyes. Your entire body is trembling. How could your boyfriend do this to you?! You sit on the edge of your bed and burry your face in your hands. Three years down the drain. He said he loved you, and yet you found him in bed, with some other person! The pain in your heart is almost excruciating. You're so caught up in your emotions that you don't even hear the knocking at your window, nor do you see the man crouched by it.

A blue mask peers inside of your room, seeing and hearing you sobbing by yourself. Jack tugs the window open and squeezes his figure through the gap with some difficulty. You quickly wipe your eyes after hearing him rustle inside and take deep breaths, fingers still shaking. The friendship the two of you built was an unlikely one. You found him by the nearby ally of your house bloodied and injured, he whispered to you no hospital before passing out, and you patched him up in that same alleyway after running home to grab a first aid kit.

From there on he became curious about the human who had shown him kindness and Jack started following you around like a lost puppy in his free time. Oh, if only things were that innocent and simple.

"Y/N?" He frowns from behind his mask. You try to smile at him, only for your lips to begin to quiver and a few more stray tears cascade down your face. The first emotion Jack feels is simple worry. Especially when you run over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, crying into his chest. His own arms hover above you for a moment before slowly returning the hug, his heart beginning to palpitate against his ribcage. Heat rises underneath his skin. "What's wrong Little One?" He murmurs, chin coming down to rest on the top of your head.

"He-He’s been cheating this entire time! I-I cant- it hurts so much. I trusted him!" Oh, that's what's wrong. He sneers in disgust at the mention of that terrible human being that had the privilege of holding your heart before him.

"I'm very sorry about that, what a horrible thing to find out" He feigns sympathy. A growl emerges from his vocal chords. You can feel the vibrations against your skin. Jack himself is seething with barely contained rage. The only thing keeping him in check is the fact that you aren't emotionally stable at the moment. He doesn't want to frighten you.

"Am I not enough? Was I never enough? Am I not pretty? Attractive? Am I annoying? What was so wrong with me that he would...do that?" You whimper and grip at his back, fabric from his hoodie bunched in your hands. Jack strokes your head, squeezing you in a firm yet comforting way. You melt into his touch. He hopes you cannot hear how fast his heart is racing.

"Shhhh, you are more than enough" He reassures and slightly pulls away. You tilt your chin up to stare at his mask, eyes still glossy. "Pretty? Don’t be silly, you're beautiful. Attractive? More so than any human I've ever met. Annoying? Sometimes-" Your nose scrunches up at that last comment. Before you can chew him out, he cuts you off "Let me finish, but you are compassionate, loving, entertaining, and much more" His hands cup your cheeks, swiping away any remaining tears. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss you right now if it weren't for the mask. You don't know what he looks like underneath it though. He thinks your beautiful? Your lips slightly part in awe.

"You said I'm beautiful" You slowly grin before cuddling your face against his palm. The fact that you're accepting his touch so willingly, the way you're staring at him, it makes Jack want to take you away from this world and hide you so that only he can see this side of you.

"There is nothing wrong with you, you're perfect. The problem is him, not you" Jack had been planning to get rid of your boyfriend for a while now. This is the perfect opportunity. His mouth curls into a smirk. Now you can be his, forever. He'll make sure that the human will be hung up on one of his meat hooks. Jack, is practically giddy with excitement. Adrenaline thrums through his blood and through his viens as he begins imagining all the lovely tools he can use on his future meal.

"Thank you, Jack" You hug him again, pulling his body against yours. He pats the top of your head, encircling your waist with his strong free arm to hold you.

"No need to thank me, I'll always be right here for you" If you knew how true that statement was, you'd run for the hills. If you knew that each night he lurks by your window, watching you sleep, change, study, you wouldn't have let him into your life. But it's too late. Jack has plans for you, and the more you rely on him, the easier it is to complete his goals.

[chocolatecakecas]

Sunday-Funday: Destiel Baby!Jack ficlet

Happy Mother's Day everyone!!!💕

Dean was expecting to have a nice, normal Sunday. Hopefully sleep in a bit, make some pancakes-hm or maybe some kickass waffles, and later run to the hardware store so he can get some work done on the new bookshelves he's making Cas. What he wasn't expecting was to be awoken by the clang of pots and pans hitting the kitchen floor, at six thirty am.

And so Dean was out of the bed in a flash, weapon in hand creeping towards the bedroom door. As he reached for the handle he heard the sound of laughter, and hurried shushing drift down the hall. Shoulders drooping, weapon resting at his side.

Cas and Jack.

Dean released the breath he was holding with a laugh as he tucked the knife back into his nightstand drawer. He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

Six thirty-five a.m.

What the hell where they doing up?

(read the rest under the cut)

Slowly, he padded towards the door pulling it open an inch more.

"Jack we have to be extra quiet, so we don't wake up Daddy" he heard Cas warn slightly muffled through the door.

"Why?" Jack all but shouted, completely ignoring Cas' words. Dean chuckled fondly to himself.

"Baby, we're going to surprise him, remember? And if he wakes up before we finish then the there's no surprise, right?" Cas answered quietly, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Oh yeah! Shhhh" Jack whisper-shouted, earning another soft laugh from Dean.

And without the imminent threat of six am monsters or burglars breaking into his kitchen, he shuffled back to bed flopping face-first onto his pillow.

Dean tried to fall back asleep, but his brain had other ideas. So with a sigh he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

A surprise? What where they even surprising him for? It's not like anything extraordinary has happened lately-and it's definitely not his birthday.

Besides, Dean is always the one who cooks breakfast, considering Cas is pretty much dead to the world until he gets at least three cups of coffee in him.

Not that Dean's not grateful for whatever they're planning, but it is six am on a Sunday and he was planning to sleep in a bit.

Especially after the night he and Cas had yes-

But that thought was cut short by the sound of footsteps carrying down the hallway.

Quickly, Dean threw the comforter back over his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

Hey kid wanted to surprise him, who was he to deny him that joy?

Under the blanket a smile spread across his lips as he listened to the door creak open. There was some muffled whispers, followed by a moment of silence.

And then

"Jack don't ju-"

And Dean would never know if Cas finished that warning or not because suddenly there was a three year old flinging himself onto Dean's back.

"DEEEEEE!"

So Dean shot up with an exaggerated "roar", squeezing Jack against his chest, which turned him into a laughing mess. He pressed a kiss to his hair, and glanced up at Cas who was smiling softly, a tray in his hands.

"Dee are you awake?"

"Yeah buddy, I think I'm awake now" Dean laughed, throwing a wink at Cas.

"Good!"

"Bug aren't you forgetting something?" Cas reminded with a purposeful look.

"Oh!" And with that Jack leapt off the bed, running back into the kitchen. The two shared a laugh as Cas placed the tray on the nightstand, moving to sit on his side of the bed.

"Good morning" Cas smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to his husband's lips.

"Oh happy six am to you too, early bird" Dean teased with no real heat behind it. This only earned an eye roll from Cas.

"Sorry, we probably woke you up earlier, I dropped a pan. And Jack ripped me out of bed at five am because he was too excited to wait until the sun came up apparently" Cas sighed begrudgingly causing Dean to pull his husband into his chest with a laugh. Cas was a lot of things, but a morning person, he was not.

"Alright Sunshine, you'll get more coffee soon. And not that I don't love whatever this is, but what is this all about, exactly?" Dean questioned, as Cas pulled away to look meet his eyes.

"You'll just have to wait for Jack to explain" Cas shrugged with a wink, tapping Dean on the nose like a little shit. What a dork

And as if on cue, Jack came barreling back into the room, scrambling across the comforter and onto Dean's lap.

"Happy Mother's Day, Dee!" Jack cheered.

In his hands he held out a little purple gift bag with what looked like a pink heart scribbled on the front.

Mother's Day.

It's a Mother's Day present.

For Dean.

Dean froze. Unable to move everything but his eyes, which flicked from the bag, to Jack and finally landing on Cas, who gave him a wide smile.

Dean swallowed thickly, pushing down the emotions threatening to bubble over.

"Don't worry, you still get things for Father's Day too" Jack stage whispered causing them all to burst into laughter, effectively kicking Dean's brain back into gear.

"Thank you, buddy" Dean smiled, hoping it looked normal enough. But he figured he was in the clear because Jack beamed back. So he slowly took the bag from Jack's hand.

"We made Mother's Day stuff at school, and I told Miss.Jones I didn't have a Mommy. But she said that's okay and that I could just give it to my Daddy instead" Jack explained excitedly, urging Dean to open the bag.

So with a slightly shaky hand, Dean reached inside, producing a very glittery card.

Dean felt something rise in his throat as he surveyed the crayon covered paper.

"It's fishing! Look that's you and me!" Jack said, pointing to the drawing of what Dean was assuming to be Jack and him sitting by the water, judging by the pound of blue glitter.

A few weeks ago, Dean brought Jack to a nearby lake to teach him how to fish with the little pole he bought him a while back. They didn't actually catch anything, but Jack didn't seem to mind, as he cared much more about the frog they saw jump into the water. The frog of course, made an appearance on the card too.

Dean carefully unfolded the card, mindful of the glitter of course, and he felt tears prick in his eyes.

Happy Mother's Day, Daddy. Love Jack.

The first part obviously by his teacher, but Jack had written his name by himself in purple crayon. With his signature backwards K, and a messy heart scribbled next to it.

And a warmth blossomed in his chest quickly washing over him.

"I love it Squish, it looks incredible" Dean gushed with a watery smile, and Jack just pushed the bag closer to Dean in response. So he dug his hand back in, pulling out the green tissue paper.

And what he found inside was a little yellow flower in a bright blue pot, clearly painted by Jack himself.

"Da already has lots of flowers outside, so you should get some too! So you get the Mother's Day gift! Oh! And Da helped me make pancakes and bacon too! Are you surprised?" Jack questioned, jumping in his lap.

And with that, Dean let the tears in his eyes fall freely, and pulled Jack close to his chest.

"I'm very surprised! I love it so much, thank you baby" Dean choked out, pressing a kiss to Jack's head. He glanced over at Cas in time to see him snap a picture, noticing the tears in his eyes too.

"Baby, why don't you go grab your milk, and we can all have breakfast in bed?" Cas suggested, causing Jack to bolt from the room again.

With his kid out of sight, Dean let the emotions take over. He dug his palms into his eyes to stop the tears. Cas just silently pulled him into his chest, resting his chin on Dean's head.

Out of all the things the "surprise" could have been, he never would have guessed it was a freaking Mother's Day present.

But now here he is, sobbing over a flower at six am.

And yeah he isn't technically a "Mom" and yeah it's just a little flower and a card. But it's a gift made by his kid, a gift that his kid gave him for Mother's Day. And Dean's never received anything remotely like this in his entire life.

So as far as he's concerned, this is the best present he's ever gotten.

Love like he's never felt before rushes over him. Love for his son. His husband. Their house. Their little life. And this tiny little flower in his lap. And it's too much, it's overwhelming. And it's the greatest Dean's ever felt.

"So I take it you were surprised, then?" Cas teased softly, and all he got in response was a watery laugh.

Once Dean pulled himself together, he turned in Cas' arms to gently kiss his husband.

"I love you, so damn much. And you woke up early and you cooked-thank you for this I just-I don-" Dean pulls away rambling, only stopping when Cas pressed their foreheads together. He always knew what Dean needed.

"On Father's Day, just remember how early I woke up today" Cas whispered against his lips, causing Dean to shove his face away with a laugh.

"Whatever you say, Dad of the year" Dean teased, as Jack raced back into the room, practically launching himself onto the bed.

They spent the rest of the morning in bed, eating Cas' slightly burned pancakes, and surprisingly well cooked bacon.

And yeah maybe Dean didn't have the Sunday he expected. He didn't sleep in, he didn't make the pancakes, and he didn't run to the hardware store or work on the shelves.

But he did watch cartoons on the couch with his kid, and he did soak up the spring sun as they all played in Jack's sandbox. He did help Cas in the garden, and he did make burgers for dinner, which they all ate out on the back deck.

So as far as Dean's concerned, it was the best, unexpected Sunda-Mother's Day, ever.

tag list:

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @icefire149 @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @becky-srs oaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @ethicalbitch @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix