#in the end i told her she was wrong and i guess she respected that skfhsns

[warlordfelwinter]

phew, managed to get mythal's help without fighting her

[enwoso]

A fic where Lovie is extremely clingy and doesn’t want to leave alessias side and they’re going to film one of the tooney and Russo podcast episodes and alessia tries to put Lovie off to the side out of the way of everything like normal but Lovie is just sobbing because she doesn’t want to be left and so she interrupts the podcast and ends up being in the episode because they just keep filming

the video version gets posted and part of it is alessia just rocking Lovie back and forth and bouncing her to calm her down

STOLEN THE SHOW — alessia russo x child!reader

funnily enough i’ve rewrote this four times… this is the best one out of the four. not my best but ENJOY!🙃

grumpy masterlist

alessia could already tell that filming todays episode of the tooney and russo show was going to be a difficult one. not because of the topic of conversation, but because today all you wanted was to be by your mummy's side.

usually when alessia was filming the podcast it would be around the time of your mid day nap however today was an early start, the girls hoping to film a couple episodes in the short time that ella was down in london for.

"lovie, come on. i need you to stay here while mummy films with auntie ella and vick" alessia tried the soft approach hoping it would help to peel you from her arms.

"no." you mumbled your grip getting tighter as a few sniffles came from you, alessia sitting herself on one of the many colourful seats in the bbc studio. hoping that you would soothe, there still being a few minutes before filming was supposed to begin.

"hey less, is she asleep?" ella smiled as she pointed to you. alessia giving her best friend a look that said it all as she shook her head.

"she won't let me put her down" alessia whispered a small sigh coming from her as ella nodded sitting down next to her best friend.

"tiny?" ella tried as she tapped your small shoulder a small whine coming from you as you dug your head further into your mummy's body.

"tiny i need to tell you something it's really important!" ella tried again, as you peeled your face slightly from alessia's shoulder, the top of you head poking out your eyebrows furrowed together, ella being able to guess that there was a frown on your lips but she couldn't see it due to the lower half of your face being hidden.

"listen, how about after we've done all this boring adult things we go to that desert place that your mummy has told me all about and i know you love the waffles from there!" ella smiled as you were in the middle of thinking, but nodding your head slowly. you did really like the waffles from there.

"but you have to let go of mummy so we can do the boring adult things yeah?" ella added as you were now a little unsure. you just wanted to go back to sleep in the comfort of your mummy's arms.

you nodded slightly apprehensive but still loosening your grip as alessia made the move to sit you down in the usual area where you'd sit, on a beanbag with alessia's phone watching a series of cartoons.

alessia carefully walking away as if, if she made one wrong step that you would start to cry, ella and vick already say in their respective seats awaiting alessia to come so filming could begin.

alessia picking up her iced coffee and sitting down, the cameras started rolling.

"hello everyone! welcome to the—" vick got half way through her sentence before you started to cry, throwing the phone in your hand out and onto the hard ground. a small sigh coming from alessia as she passed her iced coffee to ella to put on the small table next to her.

alessia moving quickly to get you and soothe you. "it's okay lovie" your mummy cooed as you hid your head in her neck. alessia moving back towards the couch as she rubbed a hand up and down your back to soothe your small sniffles.

"she can just sit there y'know?" ella commented as vick hummed in agreement with ella, alessia looking up to the pair debating her options as she knew it would be filmed and while she didn't mind you being on social media she didn't want you to have a lot of exposure to it as a result of your young age.

"lovie are you gonna sit in your special seat?" alessia whispered as she felt you shake your head.

"no. wan be with mummy" you mumbled as both vick and ella looked at each other with a pout at your cuteness of being an all round mummy's girl. alessia admitted defeat and placed you in a more relaxed position in her arms knowing you would more than likely go back to sleep during the recording.

"looks like she's joining the pod for today!"

"hello, and welcome to the tooney and russo show with me vick hope and i am here with football's most famous friends! ella toone and alessia russo!" vick smiled making sure to add her clap and woo into the end of the intro like she did every episode. finally getting a good intro where you hadn’t interrupted or she hadn’t stumbled over her words.

"and for those who are watching on youtube you will be able to see special guest to the episode today and that is alessia's mini me, who is currently sat cuddling into alessia for those who are listening" vick explained as alessia hummed trying to get you to say a small hello however you were having none of it.

"i- she's drifting off back to sleep" alessia smiled stroking a finger over your cheek as your eyes were fluttering shut but then opening again a few seconds later.

"i mean i don't blame her!" ella giggled, as both alessia and vick hummed in agreement.

"yeah, we should clarify it's a very early recording session, it's seven in the morning" vick began as she also held a coffee in her hand.

"it's not great for me or for tiny clearly!" ella gestured towards you at your sleepy form as you were half asleep but were fidgeting with the string on your mummy's jumper.

a small laugh coming from both alessia and vick who both held cups of coffee in there hands. "no it's not great for ella as unlike me and alessia she doesn't drink coffee"

"but she is going to try it aren't you" alessia smiled in ella direction swirling the straw making the ice clank against the side of the cup.

"more like your gonna force it down my neck" ella complained into the mic. "yeah but it's a really nice coffee!" alessia tried to convince her best friend holding the coffee out for ella to try.

"less you do it all the time, and each time i never like it and it leaves a horrible taste in my mouth-"

"you've got sweets over there" alessia pointed out as you head perked up a little at the sound of sweets being on the go.

"what haribos at seven in morning" ella raised her eyebrows a small giggle came from alessia as she nodded. you tapping your mummy's arm as ella tried the coffee.

"me have a sweetie?" you ask with a tired look on your face as your mummy sat and thought about it for a second before nodding. waiting for ella to stop her dramatics before asking her to pass the sweet jar.

"has it got any better" vick questioned, as ella shook her head. "it's creamier but other than that it's rank-"

"tooney pass the sweet jar!" alessia tapped ella on the shoulder just like you had done moments ago, as she side eyed the blonde, "you said you didn't want any sweets before-"

"there not for me! for lovie!" alessia pointed out as you small smile came from you as you waited for the sweets to get to you.  your mummy handing you the jar as you looked up at her as she nodded her head motioning for you to choose what you wanted.

"i get two?" you asked quietly, alessia humming as she looked down at you picking your two sweets out, yes you probably shouldn't be having sweets this early in the morning but there was expectations like today.

"so i think we've discovered you both definitely aren't morning people" vick points out as both ella and alessia shook their head.

"no definitely not, i used to be worse when i was younger though. my mum used to leave me for hours before she spoke to me- but i've gotten better with age" ella smiled proudly at herself as alessia chuckled, ella definitely not being the best person in the morning to talk to.

"i mean i feel like you would think i was a morning person because of lovie but i don't know who made that stupid rumour that having a child makes you a morning person because it definitely doesn't." alessia complained, looking down at you to check you were okay. you still drifting in and out of sleep.

"yeah i can imagine your up early on a mornings no?" vick questions as alessia firmly shakes her head.

"some mornings i am obviously when i've got training, but i would say i lie in for me is about eight am. i usually get woken up by her jumping on top of me or lovie will just sit and tap me on the arm"

ella started laughing as both vick and alessia snap their attention towards the brunette, "no sorry but do you remember on england camp when-" ella started but couldn't get the rest out cause she was laughing.

"oh i wanna hear this now"

"tooney!"

"no, we was on england camp and alessia had fallen asleep and tiny wanted you for something but alessia had taken so long to wake up that by that point she'd forgotten what she was gonna ask-" ella managed to get in between laughs.

"but she was sat there for a least thirty minutes tapping you lightly on the arm and then alessia woke up in a proper bad mood cause she'd slept through her alarm"

"oh bless her, what is it like having your daughter with you on camp? cause i can imagine it may be difficult?" vick asked as alessia hummed into the mic, one hand on your back tracing shapes in your back as the other was still holding her iced coffee.

"i mean it can be difficult especially when we are travelling a lot and for her being so young it's can be hard but no the staff at england and arsenal are so good and always make sure that she's okay as well as the players" alessia commented, as she felt you kick your legs out getting yourself more comfy in alessia's arms.

"but all the girls love her so she loves being there. it always a struggle trying to drop her off at nursery as she would rather be with me at arsenal with the girls"

"and which you wouldn’t believe looking at her right now but she's a proper chatter box, less always says she gets that off me-" ella rolls her eyes, throwing a glare at the blonde sat across the couch from her. alessia shaking her head. "i disagree, i think she gets it from you-"

"every time i've seen her here she always so quiet and calm" vick smiles, shocked at the fact that your so chatty when every time she's seen you you've just always been so quiet but she had only seen you twice before today. you usually being at nursery when filming was taking place.

"oh she's anything but quiet and calm"

the podcast carried on, the girls talking about england camp as a whole and what they get up to in their spare time when they are not training, as well as answering fan questions about if they could be a kitchen appliance which one and why. that starting a whole debate.

while you say content as long as you were in close proximity of your mummy, one slight wrong more and you were whining for her. alessia soothing you throughout the recording, as you stayed in her arms.

the podcast taking another turn talking about nicknames as a fan had asked who had the worst nickname in the squad, the girls not being able to pick one. it leading to a question from vick.

"i've noticed that you have your own little nickname for y/n which isn't tiny like all the other girls call her. and I'm just curious as to why it's that?" vick asks as alessia lets out a little laugh into the mic as ella turns her head so she's facing alessia too.

"you know what i've always wondered this too-" ella points out, now realising that she's known you for years and doesn't know the reason behind your mums nickname for you.

"to be honest it's not really an exciting story as it may sound but she was born on february 14th which is valentine's day but also she's my little love so it just fits i guess and nobody else picked up on calling her that just me, like even my family call her tiny so" alessia explained as vick hummed, ella sat as she processed what alessia had said before humming understanding now the reason behind your nickname.

"but if anyone else apart from less tries to call her lovie she wont answer them. so that's probably why nobody else calls her lovie" ella pointed out as alessia nodded her head before whispering a true to back up what ella had just said.

"really does she not?" vick was surprised by that but could also understand why.

"yeah, watch-" ella whispered, turning towards you as you were playing with your mummy's phone on the camera app, you not exactly being an expert in photography more taking photos of your forehead or the side of your face. you just liking the feel of pressing the white button, as you were in your own little world.

"lovie, look what i've got" ella tried as she tapped your shoulder, you not paying any attention as you continued to play with your mummy's phone.

"right now you try!" ella pointed to alessia as she looked down at you, a small giggle coming from your mum as she watched you take a photo of the side of your face.

"lovie, do you want a snack?" your mummy asked as you looked up, nodding your head. stretching your small body as your arms reached up with your mums phone in your hands. being very close to hitting your mummy in the face as she grabbed your phone out of your hand.

"see-" ella said smugly as she looked over towards vick who was pleasantly surprised, "wow, they have such a cute mother daughter relationship though. it's adorable" vick pouted as ella nodded, alessia in the process of sitting you back on her lap with a packet of breakfast snacks.

it obvious to anyone watching how much alessia cared about you. the rest of the episode was filmed. alessia having to take the occasional break to rock you in her arms when you started to whine.

but when the episode aired, the comments were filled with wanting you to join your mummy and the pod every episode and even some wanting to do a episode dedicated to you when you were in the mood to talk.

the rest of the comments were filled with nice comments about how good a mother alessia was and the cute relationship she had with you and how gentle and caring she was.

the fans were hooked, you had said less than ten words in the entire podcast but as always you had stolen the show.

[juniperskye]

Let’s start over.

Sneak peek: Aaron and Reader were together back when she was finishing her bachelor’s degree. It went on for a bit until Aaron started to pull away – after confronting him, you called things off. Years later you return to Quantico to streamline the new child crimes unit which will work directly with the BAU. Aaron is surprised to see you and asks you to dinner…some shocking secrets are revealed. (There are timeline edits to this story to fit my vision okay?!)

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5301

Part 2: bonus scenes

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, keeping a child a secret, Hotch not being the best partner (past), description of BAU and other FBI units – some canon typical subject matter, OC’s Nora (child) Theo and Leila (agents), mention of hospitals, and mention of febrile seizure, mention of Jack, mention of Haley (their relationship timeline was adjusted to make this work – they separated when Jack was like 2-3 y/o) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

** 5 Years Ago, **

“Aaron would you please just tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded.

“Nothing. I told you to just drop it. Nothing is wrong.” Aaron snapped.

Things had been like this for the past few weeks. Aaron was being short with you, snippy about menial things that had never bothered him before. You couldn’t figure out what was going on, it had truly begun to weigh heavily on your relationship.

“We both know that’s bullshit. Why won’t you just talk to me?” You were practically begging him at this point.

“Jesus Christ, would you just let it the fuck go. I said I don’t want to talk. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Aaron shouted. “Maybe Dave was right.” He mumbled.

“Right about what?” Your voice came out much smaller than intended.

“Maybe you’re too young, too immature. You just don’t understand the stress I’m under.” Aaron huffed out a sigh.

Aaron and you had been together for nearly two years. Initially it had been more of a fling due to the fact that he was teaching a course you were taking to complete your bachelor’s degree. He and you took things to the next level once you’d graduated and now you were about to complete your master’s degree. You loved Aaron, but with how things had been going for the last few months, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You whispered.

“So what?  We get in a little fight and you’re going to throw a tantrum?” Aaron spat pure venom.

“A tantrum?” You said, exasperated. “Aaron I’m not a toddler kicking and screaming because I am not getting my way. I’m a grown ass woman asking for some healthy communication in our relationship. We haven’t had a real conversation in months, and I don’t think I can go on like this.” You gasped, the realization finally hitting you…this had to end.

“Sweetheart, we can work this out. I’m sorry okay?” Aaron reached for you.

“No…” You took a retreating step, your back making contact with the back of your sofa. “I think it’s too late Aaron. And honestly it’s rich that you called me immature, when you are so emotionally stunted. You refuse to act your own age and talk things through. Instead, you bottle things up and push away anyone who cares about you. I won’t be your punching bag anymore, I have too much respect for myself.” Your tears had finally broken free, trailing down your cheeks clouded with black from your mascara.

“So that’s it then? We’re done?” Aaron scoffed.

“I guess that’s it.” You gasped.

With that, Aaron grabbed his bag and left. Pausing for a second, before shaking his head and making his leave. The moment you heard the lock click, your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor as sobs ripped through your body. You laid there for what felt like days, broken and devastated by the loss of what you presumed was your forever. He was gone and you’d have to move on, something you weren’t sure was possible in that moment.

** Present Day **

“Hello? … This is she … Oh! Director Cruz … yes I am getting everything ready. … I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, truly. … Of course, thank you. … Alright, I will see you Monday. … Thank you … Bye.” You were practically buzzing as you hung up the phone.

“Was that bossman?” Hestia questioned.

“Yes it was! He was checking in and making sure I have everything I need before I start on Monday!” You gushed.

“I can’t believe you are moving back to Virginia. I am going to miss you so, so much!” Hestia whined.

“I am going to miss you too! But it’ll only be like a month until you join me…right?” You inquired.

“Yes! My lease is up then and as long as you’re still cool with us staying with you guys until we find our own place, we will be there!” She explained.

“Ummm of course you guys can stay with us! Free childcare…I’d be an idiot to pass that up!” You laughed as Hestia threw a pillow at you.

You were actively packing up your life and preparing to move back to Virginia. You hadn’t been back there in nearly five years. After breaking things off with Aaron and completing your master’s degree, you’d looked into PhD programs around the U.S. and had ultimately decided on the child psychology program at Colombia University, and while New York wasn’t too far from Virgina, it at least put space between you and Aaron. 

About eight months after you and Aaron had broken things off, Nora had come as quite a surprise. Despite the shock that was brought on by your pregnancy, Nora had become the greatest gift you could’ve asked for. Having Hestia around to make up for your lack in baby daddy had brought the two of you incredibly close together.

You had met Hestia in a pretty unconventional way, she was one year into her residency for general surgery, and you had appendicitis. So, she worked hand-in-hand with the surgeon who removed your appendix, and well, the rest had been history. She’s been with you through everything in the last four years, most importantly, she’s helped you raise Nora. You’d been sure to repay the favor, especially within the last year…Hestia’s mom had passed, leaving her 15-year-old sister in her care. The four of you had become your own little family.

“So, what’s your plan tomorrow?” Hestia asked.

“Oh, my parents flew in last week and they drove most of my stuff down on Tuesday. My mom said she wanted it to be set up for us, so we’d be able to move right in, especially since I start work immediately. So, I am just getting the last few things together today and we will head down tomorrow, and I guess we will finish getting everything set up this weekend. They’re staying with me, pretty much until you and Selene can come out. They don’t want me to have to put Nora in daycare.” You explained.

“Aw, I’m so glad they’re able to do that! I know by then you’ll be ready to have them out of your hair, but it is nice that you won’t have to leave her with strangers right away.” Hestia patted your leg. “I do have a question for you though…are you at all worried about running into your ex?”

“I don’t even know if he still works there Hes, it’s a huge place. Who’s to say we even see each other at all?” You shrug.

“You are so full of shit!” Hestia laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t check to see if he’s still there.”

“Ugh! Yes he’s still the unit chief of the BAU! Of course I looked. And yes. I am terrified, Director Cruz said my unit will most likely work with the BAU more than any other team and I’m not sure I can handle that.” You groaned.

“You can’t avoid him forever babe. Are you going to tell him about Nora?”

“Hes, I don’t even know how I would begin to tell him.” You shook your head. “We ended horribly and she’s four now. What if he freaks out?”

“I mean he might. Hon, you have to tell him, she’s his daughter you know… I don’t think there’s an easy way to do it. Like it’s gonna be ugly no matter what. But at least you’re telling him.” Hestia reasons.

You knew she was right, you had to tell Aaron about Nora, but honestly it could wait. You had an entire unit to run, and you couldn’t let your fear of seeing him and having that conversation distract you from the important work you’d be doing.

Monday came far too quickly. Your parents had been a huge help, and the house was almost completely unpacked. Nora had settled in well with them being there with you both, and you were incredibly grateful to them for supporting you.

You had gotten up early to make breakfast and eat with Nora before heading into the office. When you walked into the FBI building, you made your way to the front desk to get your ID and then headed to the director’s office.

“Welcome! We are so glad to have you and your team joining us at the FBI. Child crimes is something that has needed an official unit for far too long, I am just happy to have you leading it.” Director Cruz greeted you.

“Thank you Director, it is truly an honor to have been asked to lead this team. From my understanding, Theo and Leila will be here tomorrow to begin officially.”

“That’s correct. I want to go over some logistics with you before I show you to your office. As of right now your team will just be the three of you, if we see a need to expand, we will. I am going to assign you and your agents each a specific unit for if you are needed in more than one place. You will be the point person for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and the Sex Crimes Unit, Leila will take point with Violent Crimes and Theo will take point with Cybercrimes. I anticipate that your team will work closest with the BAU and SCU.” Director Cruz explained.

“That all sounds good sir. Are the Unit Chiefs of these departments all aware of our arrival? I just want to ensure they will be prepared to work with us and that there won’t be too much pushback.” You posed.

“I understand. Yes, they have all been informed of your team’s arrival and I have made it very clear that their cooperation is nonnegotiable. At the end of the day, we all have the same goal, so hopefully there will be very little pushback from our agents.” Director Cruz reassured you. “Are you ready to see your office now?”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

Stepping off the elevator onto the sixth floor, you immediately took note of the directory sign listing that the BAU was housed on this floor. It made your stomach churn, knowing that you would most definitely see Aaron every day… not to mention in like the next few minutes.

“Okay so, through this door here is where the BAU is, as I mentioned before. There are two open desks down in the bullpen there for Theo and Leila, and your office is just there. You will be between agents Hotchner and Rossi.” Director Cruz noted as you entered your office. “I’d like to introduce you to agent Hotchner before I let you settle in; I think it is important given how frequently you’ll be working together.”

“Of course, sir.” You nodded.

The ten steps it took to get from your office to his felt like an eternity. You felt sick knowing that you’d have to face the man that had broken you all those years ago. You may have ended things with him officially, but he had truly ended it when he decided that you weren’t worthy of communicating with. At this point you were just hoping that he’d grown up in that area, because you really needed him to take the news of Nora well.

“Agent Hotchner, I have the new child crimes unit chief here for you to meet.” And before Director Cruz could give Aaron your name, it escaped his own lips, framed by his shocked expression. “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Agent Hotchner was a guest lecturer for one of my undergrad courses. He was my inspiration for entering this field.” You supplied.

It wasn’t a total lie…

“Yes, she was a bright student. I’m not surprised to see that she made it to the FBI.” Aaron added.

“Alright then, I will leave you to catch up then.” With that, the Director made his way back to his office.

“How um…how are you?” Aaron inquired.

“I’m well Aaron. I don’t really think anymore small talk is necessary. I should go get settled into my office.” You huffed out a breath before exiting the room.

You made sure to take your time getting settled. Placing some personal things out on your desk and shelves. You had a few plants, some of your favorite pens, some file folders, you hung up your degrees, you organized your psychology books on the shelves along with some law books, and the last, most important detail was a framed photo of you and Nora that you sat next to your lamp.

The day had sped by as you made yourself comfortable on the couch in your office while reading through some emails from other units and some case files of theirs from previous cases to see how they typically ran things. You had been trekking along just fine until a quite knock broke your concentration. Looking up, you weren’t entirely surprised to see it was Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. It’s almost eight.” Aaron informed you.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even realize!” You scrambled to check your phone.

“I know that you said small talk wasn’t necessary, and I agree. I would however really like to take you to dinner to catch up, and maybe I can explain some things.” Aaron requested.

“Oh, I um. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…I uh-”

“Please. I really need to explain myself, for how awful I was back then. No excuses, just maybe it’ll help you see my point of view. I’ve worked on myself a lot since then.” Aaron pleaded.

“I have to make a call first.” You conceded.

“Of course. I’ll give you some privacy.” He exited your office.

You quickly called your mom, letting her know that you were going to dinner with a coworker, asking her to take care of the remainder of Nora’s bedtime routine. You also had to inform her you wouldn’t need to be picked up. After which you spoke to Nora wishing her a good night and giving her a kiss through the phone. You then gathered your belongings and met Aaron in the bullpen.

“So, I don’t have my car. My parents are in town, they helped me move, so I left my car with them.” You explained sheepishly.

“No worries, if you’re comfortable with it, I can drive us. I can take you home after as well.” Aaron offered.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” You offered a gentle smile.

Aaron gestured you to the elevator and you made your way down to the parking garage. Aaron, ever the gentleman made sure to open the car door for you, both in the garage and again at the restaurant. There was a tinge of sadness that flooded your mind as you noticed where Aaron took you.

It had been your go to for date nights back when you were together. It was a recommendation from Dave – who you couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment toward given the “too young” comment. You wondered if Aaron brought you here on purpose, and he must’ve picked up on your thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I drove us here. I guess it was muscle memory.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed the food honestly.” You let out a little chuckle.

“I have too. I uh, I haven’t been here since we ended.” Aaron’s voice trailed off toward the end of his statement.

You were relieved that the night hadn’t been filled with awkward silence. It had, however, been a lot of catching up while Aaron avoided the main reason he brought you here and you avoided talking about Nora. You were both saved by the waiter when he came by to get your order.

“Would you like to see the wine list?”

“No thank you. I’ll just have water.” You were quick to answer.

“Water is fine for me also.” Aaron added.

“Are you ready to order your entrees then?”

“I will have the Mezzi Rigatoni, and she will have the Ricotta Cavatelli.” Aaron declared.

The waiter nodded and walked off. You couldn’t help but look at Aaron with a bit of shock. It is what you always ordered, so you couldn’t be mad, but it felt foreign and all too familiar at the same time. He always ordered for you when you used to go out, he used to know you better than you knew yourself…but that was then.

“I’m so sorry – I don’t know why I did that” Aaron was quick to apologize “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It’s all too familiar.”

“It’s okay Aaron. I was going to order it anyway. Maybe we should talk about why we’re here.” You suggested.

“Of course. I want to explicitly state that I am not trying to make excuses for how I acted then, because I know I was horrible to you in the end. I do just want to give you some insight as to what I was going through at that time. I really want to communicate now what I didn’t then.” He began.

You nodded for him to continue as the waiter brought your food and drinks.  

“So, you know that Haley and I divorced before you and I got together officially. Well once you and I became serious and my time was either spent at work or with you and Jack, Haley didn’t seem to like that. She uh, she tried to fight me for primary custody of Jack.” Aaron explained.

“What? Aaron why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, because I knew you’d take a step back in our relationship. I knew that with how selfless you are, you’d offer to back off and give me more time with Jack and I didn’t want that. I wanted to have you and Jack, so I kept it to myself. Which broke us anyway.” He concluded.

“I really wish you would’ve told me; things may have been different Aaron. I am glad you’re telling me now though.” You desperately wanted to reach for his hand but ultimately decided against it.

Now was as good a time as any, you had to tell him about Nora. He confessed something and it was your turn. And just as you were about to open your mouth, a shrill ring sounded from Aaron’s coat pocket.

“Hotchner. Yes…CCU as well? Yes – I’m with their unit chief now. We’re on our way.” Aaron hung up the phone and looked over at you. “Is your team here in Virginia?”

“Yes, they’re not meant to start until tomorrow.” You provided.

“Call them in, we have a case. Time is of the essence.” Aaron signaled for the check.

The two of you contacted your respective teams as you made your way back to the car. Aaron once again opened your door for you and drove you back to the office. You texted your parents and informed them of the case and asked your mom to let Nora know you’d be home as soon as you could.

30 minutes later you were on a private jet to Chicago with your team and the entirety of the BAU. You had unintentionally sat beside Aaron and began going over the case details with everyone. Aaron had begun explaining the preliminary profile, and you couldn’t help but chime in. Everyone was watching how the two of you riffed and bounced ideas off of one another so naturally.

“Just a reminder, there are new protocols for entry into the crime scene when we are locating the children. We need to follow those exactly to ensure we don’t harm these children more so than they are already. If you have any questions about those procedures feel free to ask me or my agents.” You instructed.

“Right. Now for assignments, Dave, JJ and Theo I’d like you to interview the family of the latest victim –”

“Molly Leland.” You corrected.

“Apologies. Dave, JJ, Theo go to the Leland’s and find out anything you can. Morgan, Prentiss and Leila, you three go to the abduction site, I want to ensure CSU didn’t miss anything. And Reid you’ll be with us at the station to start on the geographical profile.” Aaron finished, gesturing to the two of you.

Six days. It had been six days, and you still hadn’t made any progress on this case. Another child had gone missing, and things were incredibly tense. Both teams had been in the designated room within the precinct going over theories.

“I think we’re looking at this all wrong…” Leila began, “I think the person abducting these kids is younger than initially profiled.”

“Given their disorganization and the lack of consistent victimology, I’d say that’s a pretty plausible theory.” Spencer validated.

“Okay, Leila what were you thinking?” You inquired.

“What if it is a teenager? My thoughts were a kid who grew up in foster care – hence the random victimology. They just want siblings, and that’s why there aren’t any bodies.”  Leila suggested.

“I think she’s onto something. If it was a young adult who was newly alone in the world, they’d be looking to find people to surround themselves with.” Morgan continued.

“Garcia, run a search for kids that just aged out of group homes and foster care.” Aaron called to their technical analyst.

“Within the geographical limits I just sent over to you.” Spencer added.

When your phone rang, you excused yourself from the room, answering the call from your mom. You could immediately tell something was wrong given the slight lilt to her voice.

“Mom, what’s wrong?...Why do you need the children’s Tylenol. … Fever? What’s her temperature? … 103? MOM! You need to take her to the ER. … I’m serious! … I’m coming home. … Yes! … I’ll be there as soon as I can. … Take her straight to Bethesda. …Ok. Bye.”

You turned and jumped in surprise at Aaron standing there behind you.

“I just came to let you know we’re splitting up to check out a few leads. Is everything okay?” He asked.

You could tell he had more questions and that he’d more than likely heard the entirety of your conversation but was holding back in asking them.

“Um no. My daughter is sick. She has a pretty high fever. I uh, I need to get home.” You panicked.

“Okay. We will get you home then. I’ll send the teams out and I will make some calls. For now, just try to stay positive okay?” Aaron had always been the calm in the storm.

He sent three separate groups out to find the unsub and had made a few calls back to the director to get you on an emergency flight home. He went as far as to drive you to the hotel and then to the hangar.

“Aaron.”

“Get home to your daughter.” He offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Leila had texted to update you that they had caught the unsub and would be heading home in the next hour or so. You had been grateful that the team had successfully closed the case. What was killing you, was the state of your baby girl. She had an excessively high fever, and it just wouldn’t break.

“Miss, there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse informed you.

You looked over at your mom who gave you a nod and you exited the room. Following the nurse to the waiting room, you were surprised to see Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to see how she’s doing, and how you are.” He declared.

“I um. I’m…” You couldn’t help but break down.

Aaron immediately pulled you into his arms and moved you both over to a couch in the waiting area. He let his hand brush over your hair and whispered reassurances to you. The two of you sat like this for a while before you slowly pulled away.

“Sorry. She just has this fever, and it won’t break, and they don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay. She will be okay.” Aaron grabbed your hand.

A moment went by and then an alarm sounded. Your gaze shot up as you watched medical staff make their way to Nora’s room. You got up and ran to her room, with Aaron hot on your heels.

“What’s happening? What is going on? Somebody tell me what is going on!” You were practically shouting as Aaron pulled you from the room.

Your mom was pacing in the hallway as Aaron held you back from storming back in. It was killing him to see you this distraught.

“It was a febrile seizure. This can happen when children have such a high fever. We’ve given her a sedative to try and help her rest and we pushed some more Tylenol to aid in breaking the fever.” The doctor explained.

“Is she going to be okay?” You questioned.

“We’re doing everything we can. A nurse will be by soon to take her temperature again.” The doctor walked away.

“I’m going to go find your dad. That way you two can have some privacy.” Your mom said pulling you into a hug.

“This is Nora.” You told Aaron as you ran your hand over her forehead, brushing her curls away from her face.

“She’s beautiful.” He complimented.

You sat in silence for a bit with him just watching Nora. You could tell part of him was itching to ask, but you also knew that Nora was a bit small for her age so he couldn’t be sure that she was his. This moment of avoidance was terminated the second the billing staff came in to get all of your information.

“Hey there, I wanted to confirm all of the info for billing. Do you have your driver’s license and insurance card?” The staff requested.

“Yes, here it is.” You passed her the card.

She filled in all of your information, clicking away on her keyboard while the rest of the room sat with a looming silence. You could feel the question coming. You had been an idiot to give Nora her father’s last name.

“Okay and can you confirm the patient’s name and date of birth for me?”

“Yes, it’s uh…Nora Leigh Hotchner. That’s H-O-T-C-H-N-E-R. Date of birth is 10/4/2019.” You could feel Aaron’s gaze burning into you.

“Alright, here are those cards back. Thank you.” She made her leave.

“Seriously?”

“Aaron, let me explain.”

“Not here.” He motioned toward Nora.

He swiftly made his way out of the room, and you were quick to follow. In noticing your parents, you signaled for them to sit with Nora as you practically chased after Aaron. He didn’t stop until he was in a private waiting room, it was only then that he turned to face you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s mine? And what, you didn’t think to tell me…I don’t know, FOUR YEARS AGO?” Aaron was fuming.

A part of you understood his response, but another part of you was furious that he wasn’t allowing you to explain before flying off the handle.

“Don’t yell at me. If we’re going to do this, we will talk like adults. I will not sit here and allow you to berate me.” You held your ground.

“Okay.”

“I found out I was pregnant after I left for New York. And at that point Aaron, I was so devastated by our breakup, and I just didn’t think I could be around you. I know that’s not fair, but I had thought you and I were forever and then we’d just ended. I was going to tell you last week at dinner, but then we got called in. Aaron I am so sorry, and I know that doesn’t make up for the time you’ve lost, but I also need you to know that I did what I felt like I had to do.” You let your gaze fall to the floor in guilt.

“I understand. I’m not happy, but I get it.” He reached for your hand.

You accepted the gesture and furthered it by pulling him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head atop your own.

“I’ve told her about you.” You whispered.

“What?”

“I’ve told her about you. She’s seen pictures and heard stories. She knows you Aaron.”

He held you a little tighter and you nuzzled a little closer. After a few moments he suggested that you both get back to your girl. You both sat with her all night, letting your parents go home. At three in the morning, the night nurse gave you the good news, her fever had finally broken. The next day, Aaron drove the two of you home, leaving with a scheduled family day where you would introduce Jack and Nora. You had also discussed talking to the kids about their birthday party (since their birthday’s are only 3 days apart). With Jack turning seven and Nora turning 5 in a little more than a month, you wanted to plan something big for the two of them.

** One Month Later **

“Okay, the bounce house is set up and the petting zoo guy just arrived. Where should he set up?” Penelope asked.

“On the southeast side!” Dave hollered.

You were setting up the last of the hors d’oeuvres, while the members of both the CCU and BAU helped get Dave’s backyard set up for the kids birthday party. You were so incredibly grateful for this family you’d come to have.

“We’re here with cake!” Hestia announced.

“Hes! Selene! Hey guys, you can set that up on that round table over there.” You pointed.

Selene came over and gave you a hug, you snuck a snack into her hand and nodded over to your bag.

“My iPad is in there with the Twilight movies all downloaded. Dave has a sitting room down the hall to the right.” You winked at her.

“Thanks mom!” Selene said hugging you once more before heading off.

“Do you have another kid I don’t know about?” Aaron joked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Ha ha! No, Selene just calls me mom. We’ve both taken care of her since their mom passed, but it became an inside joke that I acted as the mom to Nora, Selene and Hestia.” You huffed a laugh.

“It’s true!” Hestia confirmed, before taking a case of juice boxes outside to the cooler.

“You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Aaron murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Opposed to what?” You giggled.

“More kids.”

“Aaron! We only just got back together, and we are at our children’s birthday party! Behave yourself.” You hissed.

“I know, but this time around, I’m not letting you go. I plan on marrying you and I just want you to know that I’m open to more children, one day, when and if you’re ready.” He punctuates it with a kiss to your lips.

“Well, I’m open to it too. And whenever you ask, my answer is yes Aaron. You’ve proven to me that you’ve grown since we ended before and I can’t stand the thought of going without you again so, I’m in this, for as long as you’ll have me.” You kissed him once more before carrying a tray outside to the party.

Aaron smiled and grabbed his phone, opening it to check the status of his order. There on his screen was confirmation that your ring had been customized, made, sized, quality checked, and would be shipping out soon.

He couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ���er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[cherryswisherz]

wilshire

paige x azzi

warnings: kissing, cheating, heartbreak, cursing, semi happy ending, most of this is written as a flashback, long as shit for no reasonnnn

it's the 2024 wnba draft. azzi's my plus one. nika and aaliyah are getting drafted tonight and i'm trying to keep my cool. because tonight is about them, not about me, not about azzi, not about our summer of utter fucking confusion.

lights from cameras flash. i smile, i mog, i pose. reporters are shoving mics in my face asking stupid questions as i guide azzi off the red carpet with my hand in a respectful position on her back. we have to find the girls before the draft starts. azzi wants to meet them before so it's not awkward at the after party. i'm trying to tune everything out but 6 words take me back to june and i freeze in my tracks.

"what's going on between you two?"

-

met you on a saturday knew it was somethin' soon as you spoke it eye fucking across the table, don't think anybody noticed you asked me if I was coming to the city you from maybe we should kick it, i was interested that would be dumb, if i denied

"paige..." that was the only thing she'd said directly to me all night. the rest of the time she'd spoke to everyone, answering their questions about how she met ethan, what her major was, etc. 

i'd been staring at her as she did this. studying the way she spoke with her hands, the flutter of her lashes, the bounce of her curls. her voice was so sweet and she always smiled when she wasn't talking so i could see her perfect fucking teeth. 

"where you from?" someone, i couldn't remember who, asked and she threw a glance my way, looking me dead in my eyes for a split second. 

i knew where she was from. we played against each other every year in high school. i was a year ahead of her. we never really paid attention to each other off the court, but i knew she was a killer player and an acl injury during her junior year took her out of the game for good

"uh- i'm from virginia. arlington county." she smiled as she cut her chicken. "me and paige played each other before i had to quit." she looked at me again, longer this time, and i damn near melted into the chair before she put her attention back on the conversation. 

"yeah she gave me a run for my money." i laughed, and that made her look at me again. she seemed confused, probably because i hadn't spoken this entire time. 

"my schools giving you a run for your money." she giggled and it was the most perfect sound i'd ever heard. "they say you're gonna be back when you guys play us next month. any truth to that?"

the competitive side of me took over when i answered her. "yeah i'll be back to tap dance on yalls ass in your own arena." 

"i guess we're in trouble then, huh?" she asked, her big brown eyes boring into mine.

you and i make sense, you stayed back at my telly we was chattin' 'til morning, vibration was heavy i wasn't drowning or yawning that's when i told you my feelings you told me you felt the same but you got homie you dealin' with damn, i didn't know, that's a bit unexpected but i get it, it's whatever, least i can do is respect it

after that dinner, azzi and i hadn't stopped texting and facetiming. it felt wrong because she was my friends girl, but i couldn't leave her alone. i wanted to be near her even if i couldn't see her in person until my team played hers. 

as predicted, we beat their ass and i made sure to remind azzi of that the whole ride back to her apartment. and when we got there, i took off my hoodie and plopped onto the couch. 

"so what we doing tonight? you wanna go out or stay in?" i asked her, praying she said stay in because i was dead tired. 

"definitely stay in." she said, sitting beside me on the couch. "lets put on a movie or something." 

and we did. we put a movie on. now did we watch the movie? no. 

we started talking, just yapping about any and everything. i was totally wrapped up in what she had to say, whether it was about school, or music, or anything really. i wasn't even tired anymore, she had my full attention. 

but then the conversation shifted to basketball and azzi's mood shifted with it. 

"sometimes i try and run 1v1 with ethan and for a second, i forget that my leg is fucked. for those 45 minutes i feel like everything is how i planned it to be." she looks at her knee poking out of her ripped jeans, then she rubs her scar. "and then i stand on it the wrong way and i remember that i'm not a player anymore. just a fan." the crack her voice forces me to grab her and pull her into me, letting her sob into my chest.

"az, you'll always be a baller. that shit's in your spirit ma." i almost wanna cry with her. "and even though you can't play anymore, you're one of the most beautiful people on the planet. and you're smart and you could do anything you wanted to do, basketball be damned."

a few minutes passed and she sniffled, looking up at me, and i got lost her red eyes and wet lashes. our faces were so close together, i could feel her breath on my nose. 

"i really like you azzi." 

fuck.  i shouldn't have said that.  she has a boyfriend.  her boyfriend is my fucking friend she's probably stra-

"i really like you too p." 

oh?

"but i'm with ethan. and he's good for me."

oh.

anyway, convince him to bring you to me so we can kick it right in front of his lenses, since nothing here is malicious you sat by me in that movie we went outside for them doobies we walkin' off when we talk man, that nigga not fucking stupid

"you should bring azzi to storrs with you." i suggested to ethan. "does she like horror movies?"

"uhhh yeah i think so..." he trailed off then scard the hsit out of m. "AZ! YOU WANNA COME WATCH A MOVIE WITH US?" i guess she asked who all was coming. "JUST ME AND PAIGE!" and then i guess she said yes. "okay paige, we'll be there in like 30." 

at the movies, in the five minutes i was waiting for them, i checked my hair 4 times, rearranged my jewelry twice and made sure my breath didn't smell like lunch. and when they got there i choked on my spit because azzi was wearing a sundress that hugged her in every right way. 

i honestly dont think there could be a wrong way. 

when she hugged me she whispered "i missed you." in my ear and dropped a light kiss on my neck that left me flushed. 

in the theater, i sat between her and ethan but we didn't really pay him any attention

"you look really good paige." azzi whispered to me. 

i looked down at my basic ass outfit (wifebeater and sweats), that i spiced up with jewelry and some fire shoes. "girl, this is lightweight." i whispered back.

"yeah well you look good in anything." 

"you look good too az," 

"you think so?" she's fishing.

"if your boyfriend wasn't next to me we wouldn't just be talking right now." i laughed, taking her bait. 

i got a laugh out of her and then she moved to hit me on the leg, but i caught her hand and tangled out fingers together, looking forward at the screen. she didn't move her hand. just set both of ours in my lap. and we stayed that way for like 15 minutes until she leaned into me and whispered again. 

"i hate horror movies, and he's snoring." she laughed pointing over me at her boyfriend who was knocked the fuck out. "can we leave?"

"yeah i got you." i thumped ethan on the head, causing him to jerk out of his sleep.  "yo. wake up, you're loud as hell. ya'll go home."

when we left the theater we walked out in silence but when we stared to say goodbye, azzi cleared her throat.

"actually, i wanna get something to eat really quick so, e, you can go home." she placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing a little. "paige can you take me home after?"

my heart sped a little at the thought of being alone with her but i kept it P because her literal boyfriend was right next to me. 

"uh yeah if that cool with you?" i asked, not because i needed his permission, but because he's my friend and i wanted it. 

"yeah of course." he nodded then dapped me up "goodnight p."

"night." as soon as he was gone, i rubbed my hands together and looked down at azzi, catching those brown eyes in a way that made me think i never wanted to lose them. "so... where we boutta eat because im hungry as hell." 

"im not actually hungry, i just wanted to spend time with you." she said, putting her hands behind her back. "but you live here, so you pick."

"oh word?" i raised my eyebrows and put an arm around her shoulder, turning so we were side by side as we started walking towards my car. "imma take you to my spot."

"take me anywhere you like." she said, opening the passenger door, leaving me looking over the roof of my car, trying to keep it together until i got in the driver seat and began to queue a few songs. 

then i got a text. 

ethan: tell az to bring me a to-go plate

ethan. FUCK.

said you can't fully be into me 'cause you with him then why the fuck when we link it's like he doesn't exist? they all know that we're friends but we both aware that it's more everything i got, if you say the word, then it's yours

the party was loud as shit. i was drunk as shit. azzi was drunk as shit. ethan was nowhere to be found. 

"paige i have to peeeee." azzi whined into my ear. 

"okay come on." i shouted, guiding her to the bathroom, which was empty. 

while she was in the stall, i drank some water from the faucet, because i was so fucked up and i think that's why i haven't been able to stop thinking about her.

about how fucking hot she looked in her outfit. about how long her natural lashes were. about how soft her lips looked. about the heat radiating from her body as she danced with me. 

shes so fucking pretty.

"oh my god i feel so much better!" she shouted into the universe as she came out of the stall and started washing her hands. 

i think i just wanted to be close to her again because i moved behind her and hugged her from behind. with my head in her neck, i kissed her softly moaning quietly, "you smell so good, az." 

she turned around in my arms, facing me and i kept kissing her neck, moving to her collarbones, then i pulled away and we just stared at each other for a second. 

it was like a silent conversation, asking each other "are we really gonna do this?"

and i guess the answer was yes, because azzi leaned in and place a single peck on my lips, then pulled away with the speed of light. 

but one wasn't enough. so i leaned back in and enveloped her lips with mine. our mouths moved in perfect harmony, giving me everything i'd wanted since that dinner so long ago. she moaned into my mouth, and i picked her up, placing her on the sink behind her. 

we just kept kissing, caressing each others tongues, rolling our bodies into each others, both of us enjoying the way the other person felt. 

....until she pulled away, pushing me back when i chased her lips. 

"paige we can't." she said, trying to catch her breath. 

"azzi..."

"i have a boyfriend, paige." she sounded kind of sad as she said it. 

"i know az." i said, walking back up to her. "but tell me there's nothing here." i grabbed her hands. "tell me, that these past 3 months, you haven't felt what i feel."

"you know i do paige. i wouldn't have kissed you if i didn't." she looked at me with tears in her eyes. 

you told me when you're with me it's like heroin told me that your confidence went up since we befriended

"when im with you, i feel like i'm floating. like it's just us and that's all i'll ever need. you're-" she sniffled. "you're the only person who gets how much not being able to play fucking sucks. and you made me feel better about it. you make me feel like so much more than a fan, or just a person in the stands. and no one's ever made me feel that way."

and told me that you didn't wanna hurt him

"but ethan, p. ethan is my boyfriend. hes your friend. and he's so good to me. he loves me. and i can't do that to him."

why we doing this?

"so why kiss me then azzi?" i asked. "why the fuck would you let me touch you, or say the things we say, or let me buy you shit? why did you fucking kiss me?!" 

it was harsh, i know but she fucking played me and i was pissed. 

told me this a awkward situation and you just wanna be through with it

"i don't know paige. and i'm sorry." she kept crying. i assume she felt guilty, and i couldn't give less of a fuck. "this isn't easy for either of us. but i think we should just be friends. i don't wanna lose ethan, but i don't wanna lose you as a friend either. 

i snatched my hands out of hers and back away from her so fast, you would have though she had the plague. 

"friend? azzi. you were never 'a friend' to me. i liked you as soon as i saw you in that fucking restaurant. and i tried to be respectful. i tried to respect your relationship but you were the one who made me think you wanted me. you were the one lying to your fucking boyfriend to spend time with me. sneaking into the bathroom to facetime me at 11 at night. you were the one who kissed me. you. it was all fucking you. and now... now youre asking me to be friends? fuck outta here bro." i said, then walked out of the stall and out of the bar.

i know you could be it and everyone around me that care about me can see it i could fuck a trillion bitches every country i done been in men or women, it don't matter if i seen 'em, then i had 'em but with you, it's a feeling

i was still plastered, so i had nothing but time to think about the situation. 

i knew azzi and i could be great, if she just gave it- gave us- a chance. i knew she wanted to. i knew she felt what i was feeling. i'd have known even if she didn't say it. i also knew she didn't feel for ethan, what she felt for me. but she felt an obligation to him. why? i have no idea. but i just wish she would have made up her fucking mind before sticking her tongue down my throat. 

and i know what you're thinking. 

she just wanted to smash.

and that's not true. me and azzi aren't a quick fuck. 

i mean i'm not opposed to a quick fuck. it wasn't a secret that i was bit of a slut. i mean can you blame me? 

d1 athlete, making bank off NIL money. and every girl in every city i went to, wanted a piece of me. who was i to deny them? 

so yeah i guess you can say i got around, but none of that mattered when it came to azzi. she wasn't just a groupie looking for a quick fuck, or to be a basketball wife. she was a baller. if anything she wanted to live vicariously through me and compete again. and i was willing to let her do just that. 

azzi was the object of my affection for three fucking months. i knew everything about her. i fucking craved her. i knew it was wrong. i knew she was my friends girlfriend. but i couldn't quit her. 

my teammates could tell that i had feelings for her too. anytime i was on the phone for more than 10 minutes, they knew it was hr. they picked on my for it, calling me a simp. kk nicknamed me 'sidepiece' which was a nice change from 'community strap' but it stung worse. 

whatever. 

fuck her. 

you said you told him the truth and you never lied now he lookin' at you with them eyes we never crossed the line but he got every right to be a little pissed off he you picked up, y'all got in argument he got his shit off

two weeks after the bar incident, i'd somewhat gotten myself together. figured out how to sleep without her goodnight text. found new favorite spot to eat. slept with someone without seeing azzis face. i'd found a new routine. 

and then it all went to shit. 

"azzi? its 9:30 at night, why are you calling me?" she answered my question with a sob. "azzi baby what's wrong?

"paige... he- he knows.." she cried into the phone. 

"who knows what, az?"

"ethan!" more crying. "he-he-he asked me out no where if you and i had something going on."

"shit." 

"and i couldn't lie to him paige. i told him we never had sex, but-but i told him how i felt about you, and that i kissed you and he just went off." she was crying so hard, i could narely understand her. "he said he should have known not to trust me around you when i told him i was bi, and that you couldn't let him have one thing, and that he couldn't look at me and- and- and-" she started hyperventilating. 

"azzi baby i need you to calm down for me. breathe babe." i mimicked the way she should breathe and got her to calm down enough to listen to me. "azzi. i'm gonna come get you. send me your location and just stay there and stay calm."

"okay..."

i never drove so fast in my fucking life.

i picked you up, your energy off your lips really dry, something is off you asked if i gotta, i asked if you gotta we tripping on our words nobody is lying, hakuna matata we sat in the car and cried for an hour

as soon as i got to the starbucks azzi was at, i looked at her through the window and my heart broke for her. she was in pajamas and a bonnet. those beautiful brown eyes i'd grown so fond d were red and swollen, lashes wet with tears. her soft lips weren't soft anymore. they looked dehydrated, that's how much she'd cried. 

when she got in the car, she didn't say anything. just played with the sleeves of ethans hoodie. 

"do you-" "i'm so-"

we spoke at the same time, then waited for the other to say what they were gonna say. 

"i'm really sorry paige." she whimpered. "i never meant for any of this to happen. i never meant to hurt you or him. and i shouldn't have called you after what happened." she broke down again. "god i'm so fucking sorry." she cried with her head in her hands. 

"hey..." i rubbed her shoulder, "it's fine. you made a mistake and it's okay. "

"i'm so sorry." she just kept sobbing. she was too upset to hear anything i was saying. "i love you too much to have done that to you paige. im so sorry."

and time stopped. 

she WHAT?!

she said she loved me. she said-  no. she's hysterical right now she doesn't realize what she's saying.

ignoring the pit in my chest, i bring her closer to me, making us both lean over the center console. her head fell perfectly into my chest and she let everything she had out. 

as i held her, and felt her whole body shake as she cried, my heart shattered with hers and shed a few tears with her.

on god, i love that girl i'm a sh-, i'm a bad person like, i'm in the wrong, i'm a bad person i had no ill intentions, though shit, everybody got hurt i got hurt

i never meant for any of this to happen. i pride myself on being a good friend, and being loyal to those who are loyal to me. 

and the one time it really mattered, i had to fall for my friends girlfriend. and he really like her too. i think if i hadn't fucked it up, they could have been great. but i did. and it's ruined. 

and all this for what?

for ethan to be hurt? for me to lose a friend? for azzi to feel like shit? for me to have to act like i'm not hopelessly in love with azzi?

and i'm mad private with this side of my life cause people are weirdos, and i just try to keep anyone i care about in the shadows safe from the commentary and spotlight and thoughts cause it's just a story for the people outside of it but i guess you're just another chapter in a book

and here we are, at the 2024 wnba draft in support of my teammates. 3 days ago, i would have been here alone. 

but azzi needed a pick me up and i would rather her be her friend than nothing at all. 

so instead of breaking down about what could have been on a red carpet, i smile, lean into th mic and say, 

"azzi is one of my closes friends. she was supposed to be one of the greats and if she hadn't gotten hurt, she would have been drafted next year. so i just wanted her to see it in real life because she's so much more than a fan. she deserves to be here with us."

i looked at her and smiled, pulling her to the back rooms of the building where nika and aaliyah were getting ready. 

but between the two of us....

i would shoot someone in the face if it meant azzi would light up like that again.

niyah speaks: here we areeeeee s/o my tyler fans CHROMOKOPIA 10-28 !!!! i'm finna do yall requests over the weekend because i have nothing else to do so... be prepared!

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @1onescu

@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[leaawrites]

Valentine's day kisses

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo reader

Warnings: fluff, kisses, valentine's day mentioned,

Summary: Percy brings flowers in hope of getting a Valentine

For everyone who needs a bit of love today! I love and appreciate you all so dearly <3

Masterlist

The first thing she woke up to was a fresh Bouquet of flowers beside her bed. Y/n looked around the room, trying to figure out who the mysterious sender was. No one looked at her in a way that told her they were it, they all only looked at her in expectation. None of her brother’s or sisters knew who had smuggled the flowers in here. Or more importantly, who was crazy enough to sneak into the Apollo cabin before dawn to surprise someone.

Apollo kids were always the first to wake, but not today. Today it was someone who wasn’t too afraid of potentially getting caught, but too bashful to admit that they were it.

“Looks like you’ve got a Valentine,” Laura chirped in from across the other side of the cabin, making the others laugh.

Y/n looked down, flowers in her hand, cheeks growing red. Whoever it was, she wanted to know who they were.

“Are you going to find out who it was?” It felt like Laura could read her mind. That wasn’t the first time it happened. She already did it when Y/n stared into the distance at one of their traditional campfires.

“He’s cute, I know. But stop thinking about him,” she told her back then.

“Who are you talking about?” Y/n asked since she wasn’t looking at anyone in particular.

“The new kid. Peter?” Laura guessed his name wrong.

“Percy,” Y/n corrected her.

She guessed wrong on purpose.

Y/n looked at her best friend, she knew her all too well.

“Of course, I will,” she answered confidently. Even though she had no idea where to start. “But where?”

“What is with outside the cabin?” Another camper said as he walked through the door.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at 1. How he knew about what they were talking about and 2. What he meant by it. The girl pushed her blanket away from her body, freeing her legs from the heat. The cold morning air hit her bare skin the moment she stepped outside the cabin. Everyone was watching her as she walked outside. She had no idea who or what would be outside, until she saw Percy Jackson leaning against the wall of Cabin 7.

“Percy Jackson,” she mused. “What brought you out here this early?”

“So, you like them?” He asked, partly answering her question, when only vague.

“You slipped the flowers beside my bed?” Y/n asked holding his gaze. She was always someone who would look the person she was talking to in the eyes out of respect.

“Happy Valentine’s day.” He smiled at her like a innocent boy.

Y/n laughed at him and his unusual shyness. He acted all relaxed when he was still leaning against the wall, but now that he’s face to face with the girl he secretly admired, the words left his mouth. There was no other sound coming from his vocal chords but a small laugh when he heard hers.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek in gratefulness. “What about, I get dressed and then we could go down to the lake or so?” She asked, trying to stop the tension between them.

“Yes,” he answered, smiling at her still. “Or you could teach me how to use bow and arrow?”

“I’m not sure if that will end well,” she said, amused at the memory of his first try with the gear.

“I mean, I’m a fast learner,” he shrugged, playing the embarrassing off with a cool facade.

“Sure you are,” Y/n said, before disappearing again into her cabin to get dressed for the day ahead.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Reader is dating Jeremiah and sees him and belly kissing. She then goes to Conrad who then comforts her and possibly leads to a smut? In the end have Conrad and reader date

I started singing Better than revenge in my head when reading this XD I couldn't not write it. Also, I did not make them date as I think it would be too much too fast

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Angry tears cascaded down your cheeks, the image of Belly kissing Jeremiah relentlessly haunting your thoughts. You thought Belly was your friend, that Jeremiah was loyal — you were visibly wrong on that one. Their betrayal cut deep, a painful cliché straight out of a movie. The classic scene of the boyfriend caught kissing his girlfriend's friend played out before your eyes.

Amidst the partygoers, you waved your way down the stairs slipping ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s, desperate to escape the house. You couldn’t be under the same roof as them.

You came to this party in your best dress, with the intention of asking Jeremiah to stay over for the night, but now all you wanted was to hit him where it hurt — or cut his tongue in punishment for sticking it in Belly’s mouth. 

When you reached the living room, a hand caught your arm, halting you.

‘’Are you okay?’’

Your eyes were blurry with tears, but you knew that voice. It was Conrad. 

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, probably smearing some of your mascara. ‘’Yeah, I…no. Nothing is okay,’’ you managed to utter.

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

You hesitated, the weight of the betrayal weighing heavily on your heart.

‘’Where is Jere? Do you want me to get him—’’ 

‘’No! No. I don’t want to see him,’’ you replied firmly, the thought of facing Jeremiah unbearable.

Conrad nodded, figuring that his brother was the reason for your tears. ‘’Okay. Eh…do you want me to take you home? I’ve just drunk a third of my beer. I’m good to drive.’’ 

Home sounded lonely, but you would rather be alone in your big house. The thought of bumping into Jeremiah or Belly, or worse, encountering them together, was enough to make your stomach churn with unease.

You sat in silence in his jeep as he drove, pushing away the memories you had made with Jeremiah in the same car. All the singing parties, the afternoons getting ice cream, or simply driving you home after staying for dinner at the summer house. 

Every now and then, Conrad’s eyes would leave the road and check on you. He didn’t know what to say, or how to bring you comfort, so he stayed quiet. He respected your silence and space. You’ll talk to him if you want, right?

Minutes went by, and the secret was getting too heavy to bear…so you just dropped the bomb.  

‘’I caught Jeremiah kissing Belly.’’ 

Conrad slammed the brakes, the jeep coming to an abrupt halt. ‘’What the fuck?’’ 

The sudden halt jolted you forward, and your hands instinctively gripped the dashboard to steady yourself. The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air, the silence between you and Conrad becoming palpable. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, searching your face for any signs that you were joking. But the pain etched on your features told him otherwise.

‘’Jere...and Belly?’’ Conrad's voice was laced with disbelief, his words barely a whisper.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as well. ‘’I was looking for Belly. Gigi told me she saw her going upstairs to the bathroom, so I went and— I caught them kissing in the hallway. I-I couldn't believe my eyes.’’ Tears welled up in your eyes again. ‘’I never saw it coming, nor would I have suspected it. Belly and I have gotten so close since the debutante lessons. We were good friends, but I guess I underestimated just who I was dealing with…’’

Anger flickered in Conrad's, momentarily overriding his shock. He was usually the one who fucked things up, but Jeremiah took the cake with that one. ‘’I’m not taking anyone’s defense, what they did was fucking shitty, but Jere is not innocent in this. It takes two people to kiss.’’

You rolled your eyes, but you understood what he meant. ‘’I know. I’m angry at Jere too.’’

God, you were so fucking angry at him. All the plans you had made for next year were falling apart. Visiting him for Thanksgiving, the ski trip during the holidays, his birthday. Everything was called off. 

‘’Does he know that you saw them?’’ 

You shook your head. 

How were you going to confront him about it? Would he come to you and tell you what happened? Will he blame it on the alcohol? That’s such a shitty excuse.

‘’This hurt so much, Con.I can't believe he would throw away our relationship like this.’’ 

Shifting in his seat, Conrad reached out, his hand gently brushing against your tear-stained cheek, wiping away a lingering tear with his thumb. ‘’My brother’s a jerk. He doesn’t know what he just lost.’’

You nodded, grateful for Conrad's support, even in the midst of his own familial ties. 

‘’Thank you for being there for me,’’ you said as his thumb continued to caress your cheek, his touch a source of comfort amidst the turmoil. 

‘’I’ll always be there for you.’’ Conrad's eyes met yours, so blue and beautiful even under a yellow street-lamp light.  

Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, forgetting that you were still in the middle of the road. Conrad's breath hitched, taken aback by your sudden action, but he quickly reciprocated, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. Had the situation been turned around, you would have thought that Conrad was taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability, but you wanted this. You wanted to kiss him.

Your hands went to Conrad’s hair, running your fingers through it as the hand still on your cheek moved to pull you closer to him. He went to deepen the kiss, a sweet gasp when feeling his tongue brushing yours. This should feel wrong, but it didn’t. 

Conrad broke the kiss first, needing to take a breath and a moment to collect his thoughts. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you, he couldn't. ‘’We can’t be doing this. Not after…’’ He shook his head. ‘’That would be taking advantage of you and I can’t do that.’’  You unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted closer to the middle console to pull Conrad by his plaid shirt, your fingers gripping the soft fabric. ‘’I want this. I want you,’’ you said, looking up at him.  ‘’I just want to…forget. Make me forget, Conrad.’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti

[suni-writings]

Running out of time. | part 3

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn’t know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 1 | part 2

wc: 2.9k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship, slight mention of suggestive content, [sort of] unrequited feelings, hurt/comfort)

hope you enjoy this last part as much as i enjoyed writing this little story. don't forget that requests are open!

‘hey :)’

‘gonna keep leaving me on read?’

‘guess I’ll keep your coat with me’

She sighed when she read the texts. Jude was trying to reach out to her every day. Of course, his scene at the bar was more than enough to keep the man she was seeing far away from her. On one hand, it was Jude’s fault. Who would want to be Jude Bellingham’s competition? On the other hand, it was her fault. Her fault because she not only listened to his words, but also obeyed him. One thing Jude got right — it seemed like they weren’t done. Not yet at least.

She thought she was over him; she really did. She had put her life back on tracks — everything she had left on hold because of whatever happened between her and Jude, she went back. To her numerous projects, to her podcast, to writing articles about sports. To her friends, that she seemed to have disappeared a little bit of their lives. To focusing on her upcoming university semester, which, despite the good grades the previous semester, they could be better.

She had liked Jude wholeheartedly, she believed. She could have ended up loving him, if things had kept flowing the way they did when they were alone. She had allowed him to come over to his place, to know her routine, to know her. Told about her life, about her previous relationships, about everything that hurt her. She allowed him into his life with open arms, with him saying he would always be honest with her. Not that he wouldn’t hurt her, but he would be honest.

Hurt was something that came with liking someone; it was inevitable, especially when it came to her. Anxiety always took over her whenever it was about romantic matters, as if searching for any excuse to jump off; to just not be there, to not be vulnerable, to not allow anyone in. To be alone, something she had mastered.

She had trusted Jude, and he broke her trust. It was as simple as that. And now, he was trying to right his wrongs.

And she was confused; she didn’t know exactly how she felt about him. She had spent over a month assuming things about him, ruining the previous image she had of him being someone she could rely on, someone nice, someone that cared about her. It was replaced with thoughts of him being a selfish, almost sadistic person, as if he wanted to see her feeling bad — although she never gave him the delight of knowing how much harm he had caused.

Now, it was hard to identify the person he was being, to the person he was, to the person she assumed he was. The lines seemed blurred, and she didn’t have any evidence to support any feelings besides his ridiculous attempts of making conversation. It truly surprised her that he didn’t attempt to come over, respecting her privacy and her desire to be far away from him.

Perhaps, that said something about him.

Her phone buzzed again, and she rolled her eyes as another text popped up on her screen.

‘texting you before the match’

‘need my lucky charm’

‘can you reply at least once?’

‘can you fuck off?’

‘well, better than nothing’

‘hi, princess’

‘when are you giving me my coat back?’

‘does that mean you want to see me?’

‘no’

‘I’ll return it when you want to see me’

‘I might hate you, you know’

‘nah, you don’t’

The way he could easily get reactions out of her was annoying. She was so used to being logical, to keeping her composure, to being someone who would hardly react to anything at all. And yet, ever since they broke thing off, he could get her snapping in a matter of seconds. She knew Jude liked it — perhaps, it was his way of knowing she still felt something, despite not even her knowing what she felt.

She didn’t want to let him in once again, since she didn’t have the assurance that she wouldn’t be wrecked again. And being his friend was out of the picture – she couldn’t even think about the hypothesis. Jude knew her body with the back of his hand and the tip of his tongue. Not to mention how hurtful it would be if he ended up treating her better than he did when they were together.

She couldn’t afford to be hurt again.

So, she just decided to postpone whatever conversation they could have and slowly digest her feelings about what happened, about what was happening and about how they were. Associating the past to the present before deciding.

It was a quiet night; she didn’t like nights like those because it gave too much room for her thoughts. She tried distracting herself by reading, trying to watch something and even cooking — only to watch her fail every single one of her attempts. Jude was constantly on her mind, especially now that he had stopped texting her for a week.

Maybe he had given up.

Maybe he had found someone else.

Maybe he realized how famous he is and how he doesn’t need you at all.

Every single thought of hers, when it came to him, seemed too hurtful. She didn’t even know why she was so pressed that he wasn’t texting anymore when she had only been leaving him on read. Did she care? Was it bruised ego, or did she actually have some hope? She didn’t have an answer for any of her questions.

When she heard a knock on her door, she didn’t realize how late it was or how, in no way, it could be one of her friends deciding to bother her because she hadn’t been replying. That happened whenever she was too contemplative, and they were used to that. She just automatically opened the door and her eyebrows raised at the sight.

Jude was standing there, with a grey sweater and matching sweatpants, and a black beanie on. She was taken aback, suddenly remembering how comfortable he used to dress whenever he would come over, because he felt comfortable with her.

“You’re drunk.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement. She was sure she could tell if Jude was drunk or not from a mile away — he would always have a huge grin on his face, his eyes would become smaller, and he would always tilt his head whenever someone would speak to him. And, of course, the fact that he wouldn’t be standing there if it wasn’t for the alcohol.

“I scored the last match, the one I texted you before,” he said, his voice slightly dragged. He was drunk, but not that much. Good to know. “Did you watch it?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, leaning her head on her doorframe.

“I didn’t,” she confessed. Why did she feel bad about that?

“You didn’t,” he echoed and licked his lips. “I scored.”

“I know,” she replied. Every time he scored ended up all over the internet. There was way she wouldn’t know.

“For you, I mean. I blew a kiss to the camera, but I know you wouldn’t see it. Not when you didn’t even want to reply to me.”

Guilt washed all over her, even if she knew Jude didn’t blame her at all. He knew he was just dealing with the consequences of his actions, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Then again, what would ever stop Bellingham from trying anything? He was used to falling and getting up. To losing and keeping his head up.

Maybe that’s what he meant when he said he’d show me what’s in store if I wanted war, she thought. He knew he had lost the battle, but not the war.

The cold breeze blowing on her face brought her back to reality, and she realized she couldn’t leave him on her doorstep. She could, actually, but it wouldn’t be right of her. Not when he was drunk, vulnerable and something could happen. She’d rather have him inside her house than to let him wander the streets in that state, given who he was.

“Jesus, Jude,” she sighed, shaking her head and signaling him to come in, which he happily obliged. He stumbled until he managed to find his way to her couch. “Are you cold?”

“Not at all,” he shook his head and she nodded. “But could you just— sit next to me? Please.”

Truth be told, she never had to deny him much stuff. But she had learned that, even the little things she had to deny seemed hard to say no. And she found herself once again, in the same situation. She knew she could get hurt.

And yet.

Maybe there was a reason why she couldn’t deny him that. A reason why her feet were making their way to him, despite her heart pounding in anxiety and fear. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason why she was choosing to walk to him instead of succumbing to her fears and shutting him off.

As she sat next to him, she noticed the way he looked at her; even drunk, it seemed like he was analyzing and memorizing every detail, every freckle, every single portion of her face. As if he didn’t know when it would happen again.

How wrecking must it be to adore someone and not being able to see them; to yearn in silence. To accept the fate and not try to change it. To accept any crumble that could come to you, because it would be better than nothing. Because even hurt would be better than indifference.

Amongst many things she had learned about Jude, she knew he didn’t accept fate. He didn’t believe in it. He believed he had control over his choices and everything that happened after that were nothing but consequences, which he could also change the course of. It hurt seeing someone who was always so self-assured suddenly show such an insecurity.

However, that was something she would’ve never noticed if she didn’t know him that much.

“I like you,” Jude said, still looking at her. For once, it didn’t seem blurted out — no, it seemed like something he had been thinking about for a long time. Nothing like the other times she heard that, no spontaneity in his voice. “So much. Hence why I tried so hard to at least get you to talk to me. It’s not about not being able to live without you, it’s about knowing my life could be so much better with you in it. Although, I must admit, I don’t do a pretty good job living without you.”

She stood quiet, suddenly catching herself also analyzing his features. He was still as beautiful as she remembered, unfortunately.

“I hurt you, I get it. I do. I broke your trust and, apparently, I can’t win it back. I’m in a losing battle every time I even think of texting you,” Jude let out a sad chuckle, his hand caressing her cheek softly, as if she could disappear at any moment. “I like that about you. Your judgment of knowing what serves you and what doesn’t. You said you weren’t the love of my life, but God, you could be. I’ve felt like I was too young to say that out loud, but it’s hard to not have thee thoughts when I’m miserable without you around.”

There was so much she wanted to say; like everything he said could just be a result of his wounded ego, or that she only served to caress his ego. Like it didn’t make any sense to her him even considering her the love of his life after how things had played out between them. But above all, she wanted to say how much her judgment was broken, because, at that moment, she didn’t know if she was doing what served her or not.

But, instead, she just leaned her cheek against his hand and gently shook her head.

“You’re drunk, Jude,” she whispered. “You have no idea of what you’re saying.”

“I’m not that drunk. Just enough to gather courage to come up to your house and overstepping a boundary. I know I overstepped on a lot of your boundaries that day at the nightclub, but I was also aware of how much it hurt you. I wouldn’t even think of not leaving you alone if I didn’t drink, and I really need to pour out my heart to you. If this must be my last attempt, then so it be. But just listen to me, please.” He begged her. It broke her heart to see that, in the end, he was just as wounded as she was.

They had met each other at the perfect timing to ruin each other; when neither of them wanted anything serious, when neither of them could commit to one another. When both of them were so bruised by past relationships that it’d blind the present and destroy what they were building. At least, that was how she saw it. She knew she had barely let herself enjoy it, always waiting to be hurt, always wanting to predict so she could leave before.

What a pathetic, yearning mess they had become.

“Okay,” she nodded slowly as his thumb ran through her cheek. “I’ll listen.”

He took a deep breath and stared into her eyes, admiring their shade and getting lost for a moment.

“My mum always told me that what was meant to be mine, would be mine. Close to the ‘what’s bound to happen, will happen’ kind of discourse, but not quite. The same way she always told me that what goes around always finds its way back around,” he tilted his head and sighed. “I know I’m paying for what I did; I don’t blame you for acting the way you have been or for trying to get over me because I’d do the same. I’d get over you if I could. But my mind just assumes that you’re meant to be mine. That, if I work hard enough, if I show my efforts, if I keep falling and getting up, at some point you’ll see that too. But it’s not football, you’re not a prize and I’m not really taking what you feel into consideration when I think that way.”

His hand traveled from her cheek to her hair, gently caressing it.

“The truth is, I can’t get over you. And I’ve been trying to right my wrongs, but at the end of the day, it’s all up to you. Despite of what I do and what I don’t, it’s your call. I’ve been at your mercy for so long and I don’t even think you’ve realized that,” he spoke, his voice shaking. She had never seen him so vulnerable. “I’d do anything to have you with me once again. I never took you for granted, though I know it seemed that way. I knew what I had; I knew I wouldn’t find better. You had warned me. I adored you then, but I let everything get in the way, my job, my past, my insecurities and I ended up wounding you. I made some decisions I regret, I acted selfish, but I swear to God, I still adore you. Even more than I did back then. It’s so much more than liking and I’m tired of pretending like it isn’t. Of acting nonchalant about it. If you’d ask me to commit here and now, I would. I would promise I’d never break your trust again if you’d let me in.”

He looked into her eyes once again.

“I’m at your fucking mercy,” he whispered. “And, looking back, I don’t think there ever was a moment I wasn’t.”

Jude’s words flooded her senses. As she tried to digest, she realized she knew the answer to this all along. She knew the answer when she suggested a break to be considerate about his feelings; she knew the answer when he had walked up to her while she was with someone else, and she didn’t ignore him. She knew the answer when she obeyed his only request. But especially, she knew the answer from the moment she had chosen to sit next to him instead of making him leave; the moment she chose a maybe instead of a certainty and let him stay.

In a loss for words, she suddenly held him tight. Dumbfounded, it took a while for him to wrap his arms around her; however, when he did, his head fell to the crook of her neck, and he inhaled her scent he had missed so much as she kissed the top of his head. The yearning and the waiting were so much that she didn’t even realize what she was missing until he held him again, a single tear falling down her face.

“Jude?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah?” Jude replied, leaning away just enough to look at her face and wipe the tear with a concerned glance.

“Do you think you can repeat all of that to me tomorrow, when you’re sober?” She asked and his face lit up.

“Tomorrow. The next day. The day after. Whenever you want me to say it.” He replied with a huge, genuine smile as his arms were still wrapped around her waist. She knew she would be fine. She knew they would be fine.

For once, she chose her peace instead of battling wars inside her head. For once, she chose her emotions against her logic. For once, she was willing to not run away.

“I’m not letting you go again.”

[shitsndgiggs]

HIIII, I'm back! So basically, I was ✨️inspired✨️ and then I saw your blog, and I thought of an idea, basically either Pau or Lamine have a girlfriend and the whole team is like 'as if' 'if you say so' 'sureeee, you definitely have a gf' and he's like 'BUT I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND', and no one believes him cause they like never see her, but then one day someone spots them out in town and suddenly it's the gossip of the locker room. You can end it however you want, hope you like it, have a nice day/night AND SORRY FOR RAMBLING

SECRET GIRLFRIEND - LAMINE YAMAL

The guys don’t believe that Lamine has a girlfriend

Lamine Yamal x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The atmosphere in the locker room was filled with the usual post-training banter when Lamine strolled in, still sweaty from the session.

His teammates were lounging around, discussing everything from football tactics to the latest gossip. Lamine was in the middle of his usual routine of getting changed when the conversation took a familiar turn.

“So, Lamine,” Fermin began with a playful smirk, “still keeping up the whole ‘mystery girlfriend’ act, huh?”

Pedri leaned against his locker with a grin. “Yeah, if she’s real, where’s the proof?”

Ferran laughed, nudging Pedri. “Yeah, we’ve heard about this ‘girlfriend’ for ages. I’m starting to think she’s just a figment of your imagination.”

Lamine sighed, pulling on his shirt and trying to ignore the teasing. “She’s real, guys. I just prefer to keep my personal life private.”

Fermin chuckled. “Sure, sure. We’ll believe it when we see it.”

Unbeknownst to them, the truth was about to unfold. A few days later, Lamine and his girlfriend, who had managed to keep their relationship private, were out at a local market, enjoying a rare day off together.

They were lost in their own world, completely unaware of the curious eyes around them.

Gavi, a teammate of Lamine’s, happened to be at the market and spotted them. His eyes widened in surprise as he recognized Lamine and his girlfriend, who seemed genuinely happy and affectionate.

He quickly snapped a photo, eager to share this unexpected revelation.

The next day, back in the locker room, the atmosphere was charged with excitement. Marco walked in, his phone held triumphantly in front of him.

“Guys, you are not going to believe what I saw yesterday,” Gavi announced, barely containing his excitement.

The room fell silent as Fermin, Pedri, and Ferran turned their attention to Gavi. Lamine, sensing something was up, looked on with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

“I have proof that Lamine’s girlfriend is real,” Gavi said, showing the photo he had taken. The image displayed Lamine and his girlfriend at the market, clearly enjoying their time together.

A collective gasp rose from the room. Fermin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No way! She’s real?”

Pedri leaned in closer, his skepticism melting into amazement. “You weren’t kidding!”

Ferran, who had been one of the biggest doubters, stared at the photo in stunned silence before finally breaking into a wide grin. “I guess we owe you an apology, Lamine.”

Lamine’s expression was a mix of triumph and relief. “Told you guys. I wasn’t lying.”

Gavi nodded, clearly pleased with himself for proving the doubters wrong. “She seems really cool. Sorry for doubting you, man.”

“It’s okay,” Lamine replied, his grin widening. “I kept things private for a reason, but it’s nice to finally have it out in the open.”

The locker room buzzed with renewed excitement as the players discussed the photo. The playful teasing had turned into genuine curiosity and respect for Lamine’s relationship.

Later that evening, Lamine and his girlfriend met up for a quiet dinner, where Lamine filled her in on the locker room’s reaction.

“So, I hear I’m officially a ‘celebrity’ now,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Lamine laughed. “Seems like it. The guys were pretty shocked when they saw the photo.”

“I’m glad they finally got to see the truth,” she said, leaning in for a tender kiss. “It’s nice to be out in the open, even if it’s just a little.”

“Yeah,” Lamine agreed, squeezing her hand. “It feels good to finally put the rumors to rest.”

[just-zy]

You said you'd wait

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: A failed courtingship leads to heartache, days, weeks, months.. I hope you waited like you said you would.

A/N: your pov, first person idk yes ok, dk what I'm doing, u can guess if it's angst or not.. I hope y'all get this, it's absolutely nonsense wtf, Im tired

Warnings!: uh yes, sad yes, happy idk.. short ahh imagine

Masterlist

Whenever I think about love, the first thing that comes to mind are my failed relationships, was that why I felt bad? Maybe I'd just found reasons to make you stop courting me, or even make you stop liking me. A part of me wanted us to work, I lied when I told my friends I didn't see myself in a relationship with you, I lied when I said I didn't feel an ounce of love for you. Whenever I'd pass by your room, I'd take a peak just in case you were there, just in case you were looking for me too.

Maybe I was wrong, maybe I do want you, but why did we have to end with me bad-mouthing you? I guess it triggered something in me, you showed no respect for my boundaries, so I left. That was the first red flag you showed, then I left, what was the point of making you court me anyway? Was it for the thrill? The thrill that I didn't need? I might just be full of myself, really.

Come back to me.

"What's up with her?"

"Oh, heard she made Jenna stop courting her."

"You're kidding. How can she say no to The Jenna Ortega??"

For some reason, I hated hearing your name in the hallway, it reminds me of how bad I really seemed. Of how insensitive I was to you.

"Jenna's been awfully stressed lately."

"Might be that girl she last talked to.."

Oh, I hate hearing how bad you've gotten, even when I see you in the corner smiling and grinning like what we had was nothing.

I miss you..

"Do you think they'd miss eachother at the same time?"

"Hmm, sometimes. Jenna's doing okay now anyways, so that doesn't matter."

Were you over me? Over us? I hoped you'd keep your promise when you said you'd wait, I wish you had, gosh I wish you did.

"Bro, I heard someone's trynna make a move on Jenna."

"Seriously? Did Jenna say yes??"

"I think so!"

I saw you walking up to his car for a drive, did you think about me when you got in? When you locked eyes with him? Where was I? Where did I stand with you?

I never had the chance to call you mine.

If it's still an option, I hope it can happen now.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally. 

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped. 

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’. 

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight. 

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter. 

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued. 

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice. 

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him. 

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat. 

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range. 

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly. 

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house. 

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat. 

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior. 

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled. 

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself. 

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement. 

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook. 

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered. 

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall. 

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke. 

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum. 

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John. 

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’. 

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.” 

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.” 

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort. 

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father. 

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however. 

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'. 

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.” 

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly. 

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad. 

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!” 

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.” 

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you. 

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

  

 “NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you. 

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open. 

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde. 

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried. 

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool. 

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up. 

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed. 

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[lost-romantique]

Which was the better I.M.P Mission this season?

You know, what's strange is the fact that I actually don't hate Unhappy Campers the same way most of the Fandom does.

What I enjoyed about that episode is the fact that, for the first time it portrayed Millie and Moxxie’s relationship, not as perfect and impenetrable as we're initially led to believe.

Moxxie gets stuck in his own head and Millie has to drag him out of his rut. Moxxie accuses Millie of having had the fame gone to her head, when it actuality, she was just genuinely happy to be appreciated in her efforts for once. And Millie is hurt, genuinely hurt, that her husband could not support her the same way she supported him and dealt with his bullshit.

The problem Unhappy Campers presents is that it heightens Moxxie’s desperation to prove himself to everyone around him, and turns it into a form of patheticism to be correct. The fact that Millie and Blitz both go out of their way to tell him that he wasted a whole week of his and everyone's time just so he could do things his way, and not consider Millie's opinion in the matter at all, means something.

Another problem is the fact that it relegated Blitzø’s emotional reunion with his sister, as a three minute side piece that they couldn't have to themselves because we needed a two minute talent show presentation of Millie versus more Blitz lore.

What I loved about Ghostfuckers is that it essentially takes the same premise of Unhappy Campers, Millie having to pull one of the boys out of their rut, but only instead of Moxxie, it's Blitz that Millie essentially has to save and get through.

And getting through to your husband who simply got too caught up into his ideals is a lot more easier to achieve, than getting through to your boss, who has spent the last fifteen years of his life suppressing every major traumatic event and emotion he has ever experienced inside his head.

The stakes are higher in Ghostfuckers, and if Millie was unable to get through to Blitz, if MIllie was unable to genuinely and sincerely help him with all her might...

Forget about I.M.P, what's going to happen to Blitz?

In every sense of the word, Apology Tour destroyed Blitz. Don't get me wrong, that episode was extremely important for Blitz to grow as a character. However, Apology Tour decided to grab a shovel and mercilessly beat its message into his skull, giving him no form of comfort and hope by the end of the episode.

Can you imagine what would have happened to Blitz if he didn't have Millie to help him? To save him? To comfort him?

What would have happened to Blitz if he was all alone, trapped in a spooky hotel, forced to relive every single traumatic moment of his life on repeat like a video player? Despite his resilience, the man would eventually break and be beyond saving.

But Millie saved him, and told him everything that Blitz needed to hear at that moment...

When the entire world is against you... I want you to know that you helped me, you saved me, you being unapologetically yourself is what inspired me to be more than what I initially thought I could be.

"He gave me so much... A career, a husband, a future. And now he's my best friend."

You gave me everything.

"Look, what I said earlier... you've just been so unbothered by everything. Almost bulletproof and, I guess I never realized how much I depended on that."

I always looked up to you as a pillar of support, an impenetrable wall that's almost unbeatable.

"I didn't know how to react to you being reduced to... Bethany."

Seeing someone I value do everything they can to negate their entire existence hurt me.

"But I should have respected you like you always do for me. I'm sorry."

I'm sorry it took me long to realize just how much you were hurting.

There's more to Ghostfuckers that make it a masterpiece, miles above Unhappy Campers, but I'll leave it at that for now.

[judyprincess]

Too Pink for me- Logan Howlett +18

04: Adam's Apple

"No."

The garden area, where the teachers usually had breakfast, was filled with Logan's bad mood from the early morning, marked by his firm refusal.

"Logan, I haven't finished," Charles said calmly, setting his coffee cup down on the table.

Everyone was watching the scene, but Ororo didn't seem surprised—she had already predicted this would happen.

"Guess what, I don't care."

Logan replied before taking a sip of his black coffee, fully intending to escape Charles' explanations. Knowing what was coming, Charles had no choice but to use his powers, stopping Logan from walking away, which made a low, almost animalistic growl escape from his throat as he turned back to them, frustrated.

"Is this some kind of joke or punishment? Did I do something wrong as a substitute that I don't know about?"

Logan finally spoke, his rough voice like sandpaper, clearly expressing his displeasure.

"Logan, I still don't understand why spending time with Rosellina is a punishment." Charles didn't react to his bad attitude and took another sip of coffee. "The girl is delightful."

"I don't like her. Can that be respected?"

"Do you have a valid argument I might accept?"

Charles leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced hands, waiting expectantly. Logan thought for a moment, but no words came out.

"Then, no, I can't respect it. It's just nonsense."

Logan took a deep breath, trying to keep the animal inside him from breaking free.

"This is Scott's job. I don't get why I'm the one doing this."

Ororo glanced at Charles when Logan justified himself to avoid the task, her expression clearly saying, I told you so.

"Logan's right," Scott said after a moment, surprising everyone.

Hank nearly choked on his coffee, having to grab a nearby napkin to wipe himself off as he coughed. The world must have been ending—Logan even raised an eyebrow at Scott.

"Well, that's new," Ororo muttered under her breath, watching the situation unfold.

"Professor, I don't usually agree with Logan."

"Usually?" Logan asked, accusingly.

"Never," Scott corrected. "What I mean is, Rosellina is a new student. I don't think her first day at the school should involve enduring Logan's bad mood. She needs a good experience."

Logan mentally thanked Scott for the intervention, though Scott never missed an opportunity to criticize him.

Charles sighed in his seat, remaining calm and unfazed by Logan's attempts to escape. He waved a hand toward Scott, signaling that his intervention wasn't necessary, before addressing Logan.

"Logan, you have two options," he finally said, unwilling to prolong the situation further. He could already sense Rosellina's thoughts approaching—no, in fact, he could feel her emerald eyes watching them.

"You help Rosellina with her tour of the facilities and try to swallow your bad mood a bit."

Before Charles could continue, Logan cut him off with a challenging tone.

"Or what?"

"Or you'll start teaching history classes first thing Monday morning as an official professor," Charles dropped the ultimatum, taking a sip of his coffee without even looking at him. He didn't need to look to imagine Logan's expression.

"Your choice," Charles concluded, leaving a silence as Hank struggled to hold back a laugh.

"This is the library," Logan grumbled, just like every time he pointed out a new room to Rosellina.

After that trap Charles had set for him, Logan had no choice but to reluctantly accept. As soon as he left the garden, Rosellina was already waiting for him. They began on the ground floor, and after a few rooms, they found themselves in the library where several students were studying.

Logan leaned against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed, as he watched her wander around the room with curious eyes. He couldn't help but let his gaze slide over her, observing how she moved so delicately, like a graceful heron. Her clothes were simple, yet somehow, she made them look elegant and magical—a pink skirt and a white blouse with puffed sleeves. Half of her hair was tied up while the rest cascaded down her back like a waterfall, reaching places he knew he shouldn't be staring at. Logan mentally scolded himself, shaking his head firmly as he tried to focus on the windows.

That's exactly what he hated about this girl—the way she made everyone fall under her charm without even trying. Even he, despite his enduring love for Jean, couldn't stop himself from looking at her. It made him feel like a disgusting pervert.

Logan let out a low growl, tightening his grip on his arms, leaving faint marks from the pressure, though they quickly disappeared. He could hear the murmurs of the students watching her as he tried to keep his mind steady.

"She's beautiful," a rough whisper from one male student made Logan turn his head.

With indifferent eyes, Logan observed the admiration that built up around Rosellina with every step she took. The students watched her with eyes full of infatuation. She hadn't even said a word, but they were all staring at her, though they kept their distance, as if feeling unworthy of approaching her. Logan raised an eyebrow at their behavior. It was like she was a painting they admired from afar, afraid to touch for fear of breaking it. Like she was somehow "forbidden."

He chuckled under his breath, but it wasn't because he found it funny. Not at all—it irritated him. The reverence for someone just because they were pretty, someone who barely said more than two words.

"Uh, good morning," Rosellina finally spoke after hearing the whispers, attempting to greet them.

Logan was surprised by the gesture, but what shocked him even more was the students' response. Shy and embarrassed, they turned away, and only a few managed to give her a small nod in return.

Logan huffed at their ridiculous and timid behavior. Impatient, he pushed off the bookshelf and grabbed Rosellina's wrist.

"She's just a girl," he growled. "Stop drooling and at least return her greeting, you rude brats."

Rosellina was caught off guard, not only by Logan's sudden intervention that caused the students to mutter their apologies under their breath, but by his grip on her wrist—so rough, so abrupt, and of course, without any permission. She hadn't even realized when her legs instinctively quickened, trying to match Logan's long strides as he moved swiftly down the hallway, his towering height forcing her to keep pace.

"L-Logan..." she murmured softly, trying to keep up as they climbed the stairs. "It hurts..." she whispered, wincing as he dragged her down the hallway.

"I really hate you," he spat.

Those words left Rosellina stunned. She could only remain silent, frozen by the sharpness of them. Logan was a man giving her firsts in ways she couldn't understand. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. Why was this man, who barely knew her, so determined to bury her beneath his hatred, to push her away from him?

"The way you draw attention, the way you make people stupid, unable to speak, and yet you don't even say anything back," he continued, releasing her wrist abruptly, letting it drop as she came to a halt.

He turned to face her, his breathing heavy, revealing the erratic pace of his heart driven by the rush of adrenaline.

"I hate it so much."

Rosellina looked at him, feeling a sudden ache in her chest. What was that feeling? Why did it hurt? She wasn't sick, so why did her heart feel this way? In a desperate attempt to ignore that unknown pain, she offered him an embarrassed smile. Even though she wasn't to blame, she was ready to apologize.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking at him. "I didn't mean to be such a bother to you today."

Logan blinked, taken aback by her response. It only made his irritation grow. Why was she acting like she was the one at fault? Why so much submission? It was driving him crazy. He hated that unbearably helpless attitude.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath.

The sharp words, like a blade ready to cut deep, were held back. He was restraining himself, knowing deep down that this girl wasn't truly at fault. Or at least his mind tormented him with the thought of Charles scolding him if she ran off in tears because of his rough demeanor.

"Walk," he grumbled as he began to move, shoving his hands into his pockets. The quicker they got this over with, the better for both of them.

The tour of the facilities continued until they reached the second floor, above the dormitories where more secluded rooms were located. Rosellina remained silent, avoiding greetings but offering a shy smile as the older students occasionally glanced at her. Soon, the hallways were empty, and she couldn't help but fidget with her hands.

"What's your mutation?" she dared to ask after what felt like an eternal silence under the weight of the tension.

Logan didn't respond at first, unwilling to engage in more conversation than necessary, but it seemed Rosellina was determined to go against his plans.

"Healing."

He answered curtly, but he could feel her gaze behind him, quietly asking for more information.

"I've got enhanced senses. I'm like an animal, but with extraordinary regenerative abilities," he explained after a few moments of hesitation.

Rosellina nodded, trying to piece it together. Someone who could heal as quickly as he was injured? That explained why Logan, despite his age, looked so young. His mutation slowed his aging. She observed him subtly, careful not to seem intrusive, until her eyes landed on his chest. A dog tag rested against his shirt, and she could clearly read the name on it.

Wolverine.

She remembered Rogue mentioning that most had nicknames, and she quickly deduced that this was Logan's. It suited him, considering what he had told her about his mutation. Yet, despite everything, Logan didn't generate any ill feelings within her. It was his behavior that caused those tiny stings of pain in her chest.

"Were you in the army?"

Rosellina asked after a while, nervous that she might anger him again. Logan let out a heavy breath in response before turning slightly to look at her.

"You're out of questions."

That was all he said, but his response only confirmed for Rosellina that it was a sensitive subject for him. His expression had darkened when she mentioned it. She followed him closely as he pointed out more rooms, moving at a faster pace, his desire to end the tour evident.

"The professor mentioned an attic," she whispered softly, debating whether she should've said anything at all.

She could've let him go and asked Rogue to take her there instead. She watched Logan stop, fully expecting him to sigh in frustration.

"I... we can finish here—"

"Follow me, it's up the right staircase."

Logan interrupted her, veering off and walking with long strides, though his pace had softened so she could keep up. They ascended toward one of the mansion's towers. When they arrived, Logan turned on the lights, the smell of wood immediately filling the space, mingling with the natural floral scent of Rosellina as she stepped inside, awestruck by the attic's size. Logan lingered in the doorway, watching as the light from the balcony helped him see her move around, as if she were already placing things in their designated spots in her mind.

"Why did the professor give you the attic?"

Logan asked, curiosity gnawing at him. Rosellina, stepping away from the table she had been examining, turned to face him.

"He said I could paint here if I needed space, so I wouldn't bother anyone."

She answered, as kind as always.

"Paint?" Logan raised an eyebrow, not expecting that response.

"Yes, I'm an artist."

Logan could sense the hint of pride in her words when she spoke about her craft.

"Well, I guess that's something you can afford to do when your father's one of the Pentagon's big shots," Logan scoffed, the glint of disdain sharp in his eyes.

Rosellina lightly grazed her fingers across the wooden table before pulling her hand back, a small smile on her face.

"I suppose," she murmured after a moment.

Why did it feel like Logan kept testing the limits of her patience? Was she always going to let people treat her like this without pushing back?

"I really do love painting. It's a way to express myself."

Her words pulled him from his thoughts, as she stared down at the floor.

"Everyone expresses themselves somehow, but for me... well, sometimes it's hard to say what I feel." She confessed, her face turning toward the warm light spilling in from the balcony. "It's so easy to swim and just as easy to drown at the same time. But a lifeline can always be there, something to hold on to and escape from the obvious, if only for a moment."

Logan listened closely. Her words flowed like prose, a melody written in frustration and emotion on the oldest pages of Europe, hinting at something deeper. He wasn't sure if it was just her artistic nature making such elaborate comparisons to things that could've been explained in simpler terms, but something about it held him captive.

"Escaping death is easier than escaping feelings, always finding a way to hide them in plain sight, beyond the understanding of those who can't see past their own pain." Rosellina recited, as if recalling a forgotten tale lost in an untold book.

Logan found himself submerged, drawn into that stormy sea of words that seemed to lead nowhere—yet they consumed him. Because, in his mind, there was an understanding, a connection to what she was saying, even if he didn't fully grasp it himself.

"Maybe... painting is my lifeline." Rosellina turned to meet his gaze with a gentle smile. "But mostly, I love doing it because it makes people happy when I do."

She added, as if trying to steer the conversation away from the previous reflections. Logan looked into her eyes, those emerald gems piercing deeper into him, searching for something beyond what he projected. They were mesmerizing, undeniably beautiful. A truth he couldn't deny.

There was a silence between them as Logan observed her; a storm always seemed to brew whenever Rosellina was around. After what felt like an eternity, Logan finally peeled himself away from the doorway.

"I'm sure you've got other things to do, just like me," he said, turning to head down the stairs. In his language, that meant: time to get out.

Rosellina hurried to follow him, casting one last glance at the space. For some reason, Logan didn't seem as resentful as he had been yesterday or even this morning—that was a small victory for her. They descended the stairs together, arriving at the ground floor where most of the people were gathered. Jean crossed their path before Rosellina could greet her, but Logan beat her to it.

"Hey, Jean," he greeted her with a small smile.

Jean quickly returned the smile and greeting. Rosellina stood there, watching the interaction, noticing Logan's smile and his attitude towards Jean. Was he only resentful towards her? No, surely not. Rosellina mentally shook the thought away.

"Hi, Logan, and you too, Rosellina. I see you've finished the tour," Jean observed after saying hello.

Rosellina greeted her and nodded in agreement.

"Well, you sure took your time. It's already lunchtime."

"Yeah, well, the place isn't exactly small," Logan replied with a short laugh.

Rosellina could feel herself fading into the background of the conversation. Even though they were talking about both of them, the conversation started to feel more like it was just between Logan and Jean. Her emerald eyes watched their expressions, noticing the faint air of flirtation between them.

A flush rose to Rosellina's cheeks. They were probably a couple or at least interested in each other, and here she was, stuck in the middle, feeling like a third wheel illuminating a pair of lovers.

"I've got things to take care of, ciao," Rosellina mumbled softly, excusing herself so as not to interrupt any further.

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw them speaking comfortably, catching sight of Logan's expression as he looked at Jean, noticing the small touches she made on his arm. She quickly turned back.

Intrusive. You're being rude, Rosellina.

She scolded herself mentally, determined not to look again. All she could think now was that Logan probably had a girlfriend, which didn't make him a bad guy, right? Rogue had been right, after all. Not that she had ever thought he was a bad guy anyway.

Logan was so absorbed in his conversation with Jean that he suddenly realized he no longer caught the scent of Rosellina's perfume. He turned around to see that she was gone. When had she left? Jean had distracted him that much.

"Logan?" Jean called, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, didn't notice the little annoying rose had left," he muttered, refocusing on Jean.

"You don't like her, huh?" Jean asked as they walked down the hallway and out of the mansion, heading toward the front gardens.

"No," he answered firmly.

After a while, Logan's curiosity got the better of him, and he continued, "Beyond her striking looks, I don't even know what her mutation is."

"Well, you didn't ask her, did you? I'm sure she would've told you. She's not shy about showing it."

Jean teased him, practically telling him it was his fault for not asking her directly. Logan cursed under his breath, glancing at Jean while listening to her. Standing around like an idiot and just listening wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

"I'm asking you so you can tell me, Jean."

Jean raised an eyebrow before giving a sly smile.

"It's in her eyes."

Logan stopped in his tracks, recalling how he had been captivated by her eyes just a moment ago. He remembered thinking they were the most intense emerald green he'd ever seen in his life—like two precious gems. But he hadn't thought much further than that. Beyond her striking pink hair, those eyes were the real pressure that could crush you like the deep ocean's abyss.

"Her eyes? What are they supposed to do?"

"Illusions, she can make your mind see things completely out of reality."

Logan thought that maybe people fell under her spell because of her charm, but that wasn't the case. Her mutation went beyond his understanding. Jean took her time explaining what the professor had told her, along with his hypotheses after conducting an initial test with Rosellina. The Canadian listened closely as Jean talked about the classes Charles would have with Rosellina and how she had agreed to become an arts teacher.

"Art teacher..." he muttered to himself with a faint, mocking smile.

It suits her.

Logan thought to himself. Just then, he felt Jean's hands softly brushing against his, her fingertips tracing the calluses on his palms. That small electric charge traveled up Logan's spine, quickening his heartbeat. He turned to look at her.

"I thought you'd be falling for her by now; she's a very beautiful woman." Jean's words felt strange to him. He could sense a mix of teasing and satisfaction in them.

"I only have eyes for one person, if that's what you're worried about." His voice was lower, more intimate and rough. His hands slipped under her jacket, gently grazing her waist, savoring the feel through her clothes.

Once again, he was falling into something he shouldn't. Into the endless flirtation with Jean that always led nowhere, leaving him with scraps of affection that would never turn into anything more.

"She's not even my type," he clarified.

"She's sweet, pretty," Jean offered, "smart, kind."

"I prefer the strong, independent ones." He shook his head at her attempt, his face leaning closer to hers. "What do I have to do to make you understand that I'm only dying for you?" He confessed, now dangerously close.

Jean placed her hands on Logan's chest, creating some space between them, a small barrier, as she felt her breath catch. Logan's masculinity and boldness always made her tremble—a forbidden man who would only bring her trouble.

"Girls only flirt with the bad boy, Logan..." she whispered softly, looking at him with doe-like eyes. "But they marry the good guy."

Jean crossed that dangerous line, her lips almost brushing against his. Jean could hear the low growl in his throat, feel his hot breath on her face.

"I could be the good guy..." he murmured against her lips, barely grazing them.

He was putting all of his effort into not doing something reckless in the school's gardens, where anyone could see them. It was all forbidden and filled with consequences, a mix that made him both sick and excited at the same time. That little fantasy evaporated when Jean, just inches from sharing a kiss with him, pulled away. Once again, the same thing happened. So close, yet so far.

"Scott's waiting for me," she said as her final words, removing her hands from his chest and breaking all contact as his own hand slipped from her waist. She turned to leave, leaving him standing there. Logan didn't dare say anything, letting her walk away. All he could feel was a toxic storm brewing inside, consuming him—pain, pain and resignation. Settling for the bare minimum, knowing it would never go further, and that he would always be the loser, never the first choice for the red-haired woman he desired so much. Could his healing ability save him from that pain he masochistically confused with pleasure? No. He wouldn't feel so lost and broken, knowing he would never be her choice.

"Damn it."

________________________________________

Why does the forbidden always have to be so tempting?

The human desire to always want what we can't have, that greed that makes us brush against sins we will later pay for dearly.

There is no sin without consequences.

________________________________________

Hello, my dear readers! I'm leaving a little note here for you. I know you're a fan of Marvel, so if you're interested, I've recently published another book, though this one focuses more on the Avengers. In this fanfic, the Avengers' story is rebooted from the first movie, and a new female original character will change the course of the movie timeline in this alternate reality. You can find it on my profile, or search for it by title: Immortal Flames.

If you're also into Japanese mythology, this fanfic will be for you! (Of course, it will be explicit and feature romance between the original character and another Avenger, along with secondary pairings among other Avengers).

I hope you're enjoying Rosellina's story. ✨️

Kisses, 

Judy. 💖

[radioisntdead]

Good morning, as you have requests open can I get some Velvette x g/n! reader angst (perhaps ending with comfort) romance?

One night they overhear her talking negatively about them (not an overlord, lack of confidence, whatever) so they leave behind a note saying they were right to feel like she didn't actually love them and they've left, not saying where.

Good evening my dear! We are ending the cannibal streak with Velvette! WOO, It's late and I'm woozy, this became a song fic I'm sorry.

Velvette x reader,

Warnings!

Light angst, Valentino,

The song used: Moral of the story

You and Velvette met at a New Years party back in the 2000's, the air was heavy, you had a red solo cup with heavens knew what was in it, maybe Vodka and something? You didn't know, people were kissing, yelling, and whatever else.

So I never really knew you

When Velvette approached you, you felt like the luckiest person in the world, like nothing else in the room exist, she was only person there in your eyes,

When she talked about how boring the party was you found yourself agreeing with every word she said, her voice soothing to you.

God, I really tried to, Blindsided, addicted

The two of you died in a car accident, music was blasting from the radio, you were looking outside the window, and Velvette was texting and driving,

It was quick, she ran a red light and BAM, a truck hit the two of you causing the car to roll, glass shattered and the one thing you remember is reaching out to Velvette before everything went dark.

Felt we could really do this

You once told Velvette that you'd follow her to hell and back,

Guess that was true because guess where you ended up?

But really I was foolish

Things didn't change much as she rose to the top, becoming an overlord, teaming up with some guys named Vox and Valentino, Vox was decent enough but Valentino gave you the chills, he never did anything but still.

Velvette made sure to shield you from his business, you weren't allowed on his floor.

Hindsight, it's obvious

Velvette was never scared to demand things, to order things around, to get her hands somewhat dirty if needed, if she wanted it she got it

You weren't like that, you didn't like having blood on your hands, While Velvette treated service staff like they were an inconvenience you treated them with respect, like they were people.

Velvette didn't like that part of you, she liked it when it was towards her or maybe the other Vee's but no one else.

Talking with the cannibal She said, "Where'd you find this girl?"

You weren't having a good day, you and Velvette got into a argument over her spending too much time on her phone, you said that she loved that stupid thing more then you, she didn't deny it, just said that you were acting fucking crazy and left.

I said, "Young people fall in love, with the wrong people sometimes"

You had several things to do, some employees couldn't do their job properly and you didn't want to lash out of them, all you wanted to do was just relax with your fiancee, you got some flowers and an Emoji plush to give her as an apology.

Some mistakes get made

As you stood outside the door that lead to the Vee's living room you could hear muffled talking, a voice you could recognize was Velvette's.

That's alright, that's okay

You cracked the door open and peaked in, She was talking to Valentino.

You can think that you're in love

"Then They say that I love my phone then them! Like maybe if you weren't such a fuckin' loser that can't even order a coffee without almost crying I'd pay more attention to you!"

When you're really just in pain

You clutched the flowers, crushing the stems as you took a step back.

Some mistakes get made

"They aren't an overlord, the only they have any of this is because of me!" She said throwing herself onto the couch and went back to her phone, that damned phone.

That's alright, that's okay

Quietly and quickly you made your way to the room you shared with Velvette, you did your best not to slam the door indicating that you were back, you threw the flowers and plush into a trashcan before taking out a few suitcases.

No tears were shed, just anger, betrayal and disappointment flooded you.

In the end, it's better for me

You packed the clothes that were your favorites, you couldn't take everything since for one, Velvette gave you the majority, and two, she gave you a bunch of clothes.

Once You had everything packed you wrote a note giving a brief explanation, that you had heard what she said, and that since you were SUCH a loser, she should date a overlord instead.

That's the moral of the story, babe

You left the Vee's tower, without a single soul noticing, now standing on a random street corner you took a deep breath, you had enough money, from your OWN means, to get a hotel to stay at for maybe a week? Just until you could get an apartment or something.

It's funny how a memory

Velvette didn't notice you were gone until late the next day, she thought you were being petty avoiding her because of a little fight and she had decided to let you take the bedroom, sleeping in her office instead.

She supposed she should apologize because she loved you and she was tired of this.

Turns into a bad dream

She stepped into your shared room, not noticing anything missing, until a colorful object caught her eye from the trashcan, leaning down it was an emoji plush, cringey but it was soft, it was covering a bouquet of flowers, her favorites infact.

When running wild turns volatile

Her face twisted into confusion as she looked around, spotting the note you left on the bed.

She hadn't meant for you to hear her.

Remember how we painted our room, Just like the other Vee's did?

You were gone. She fucked up.

So romantic, but we fought the whole time

It was just a small fight right? The two of you would kiss and make up like usual, maybe watch a movie after, but you had left, you left her!

Should have seen the signs

She couldn't find you, anywhere.

Vox only got footage of you leaving the tower and nothing else, he spied on the ENTIRE ring and he couldn't find YOU?

Talking with the cannibal, She said, "Where'd you find this girl?"

You had stumbled upon the Hazbin hotel, you were welcomed by Charlie with open arms, she was ecstatic, you were the first sinner to join them after the extermination.

Said, "Some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes"

Being away from Velvette was so...

Some mistakes get made

Freeing, it was as if you were spreading your wings for the first time in years, which you were! You'd been with Velvette for over a decade, not counting your life beforehand.

That's alright, that's okay

You loved Velvette, you truly did, but she didn't love you like you did her, she didn't act like it,

She thought you were on the weaker side.

You can think that you're in love

You had no interest in rising up the ranks, working instead on becoming a better person, with every exercise with the hotel residents you got more and more confident, changing your appearance along the way.

When you're really just in pain

After you more sinners came to the hotel, a few ready for redemption.

Some mistakes get made

You met someone, she had the most beautiful pink eyes that reminded you of pink lemonade, she was different then Velvette, you couldn't help but compare the two, Velvette was so... Cruel and she was so Soft, kind, she just killed a guy but that wasn't a deal breaker in your book.

That's alright, that's okay

It took time but the two of you grew close, you'd have lunch together, eventually that moved to sleepovers, movie nights, sweet words exchanged between the two of you.

You were apprehensive about entering a new relationship after Velvette, but it just felt right.

In the end it's better for me

Charlie was excited when you went to her for date ideas to take your newest sweetheart, she was so proud of you, you had come so far!

That's the moral of the story, babe

They say it's better to have loved and lost

Velvette searched for you, you due to plot armour and your changed appearance had managed to completely avoid Vox's cameras or Velvette's hunting you down, she regretted saying what she did, she wouldn't have said it if she knew you were listening!

Than never to have loved at all

You had decided to step out of the hotel with your dearest sweetheart, deciding to go out for a simple date, watch a movie and maybe shop around and grab a bite to eat

That could be a load of shit

Velvette had decided to go check out her competition's stores, going shopping at the same stores you did.

But I just need to tell you all

You didn't see her, and she almost didn't recognize you but she did.

Some mistakes get made

Her blood ran cold, or colder as she watched you dote on the lady next to you, arm wrapped around hers, holding her bags for her.

You had done that for her once upon a time.

That's alright, that's okay

She wanted to say something, like where have you been, I'm sorry, who the fuck is this, come home! Or something but she couldn't, she could only watch as you laughed at something she said, you used to laugh like that with her,

You SHOULD be laughing like that with her.

You can think that you're in love

Velvette's hand clenched into a fist, her fingers digging into her palm making indents.

When you're really just engaged

You should be with her, not whoever that wench was! The engagement ring she had accepted from you ages ago was still on her finger.

Where was yours?

Some mistakes get made

She watched as you walked away with her.

That's alright, that's okay

She finally moved, following in pursuit.

In the end it's better for me

You and your sweetheart were having a wonderful time, shopping around and the two of you were finally getting something to eat, you went to the cutest little café, and you walked back to the hotel holding hands.

That's the moral of this story

Some mistakes get made

Velvette knew where you were now.

That's alright, that's okay

You were so happy, Velvette hasn't crossed your mind in ages.

You can think that you're in love

She didn't know how to get you, she didn't want you to hate her.

When you're really just in pain

You squealed as you landed on your bed kicking your legs back and forth like a lovesick fool.

Some mistakes get made

You had to come back to her willingly, once you were done with this little fling, she would leave you heartbroken and Velvette would welcome you back with open arms, hugs and kisses.

That's alright, that's okay

You sighed happily, a dumb love filled grin on your face.

In the end it's better for me

You had come SO far from how you were before, you were proud of yourself, you had a healthy relationship with your lovely girlfriend, you had amazing friends, and you were on the road to redemption with them! You couldn't ask for more.

That's the moral of the story, babe

You will never go back to Velvette, you loved her once yes, you truly did, but that was in the past, and you deserved better, and you got better.

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! It's late for me and I wrote this in one sitting, I'm gonna go knock out now, have a wonderful night folks!

[storm-angel989]

Is it okay if it is a one shot instead? I don't want to force you to do anythinggg 😭😭😭 it's my own preference!!

Hi There!

I will DEFINITELY do one shots when requested! They’re so much fun to write about, and honestly this is one of my favorite things to write about.  I think to keep it organized from the “Outside The Office” series I’ll respond directly to the request with the story attached and add that to the master list.  

You asked specifically for Val or Vox x reader and their little girl, so I tried to give both Val and Vox their time to shine in respective, responsible, parental roles. If you want a specific Vox x reader and their little girl or a specific situation for Val x Reader and their little girl, let me know! There are SO MANY to choose from but this is the first one that came to mind! 

As always, enjoy! Feedback is always, always appreciated and valued! 

“Princessa, hold still.” Valentino grumbled to the squirming toddler. His hands moved as quickly as they could, weaving her blonde hair into braids. “Princessa, stop, I don’t want to pull your hair.”

She let out a shriek and Valentino quickly wrapped the end of the braid in a soft pink hair tie before he scooped her up into his arms and rocked her gently, tucking her against him. “Shush, princessa, daddy is here.” 

Never did Valentino ever think he would be calling himself daddy in the most appropriate context of the word. 

She quieted quickly and snuggled into him. Valentino smoothed back her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. Cooler than she was an hour ago. But not quite broke of her fever yet. Definitely due for her next dose of medicine. 

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked vigorously- a habit he despised with every fiber of his being. Honestly, he’d rather let her just have the pacifier but his wife was insistent that she break the habit. It wasn’t good for her teeth, she said. 

He guessed she would know more about it than he did. She read more books on the subject than he had, and he had read quite a few himself as he tried to teach himself how to be the father he had never had. Truth be told, when his wife first found out she was pregnant, he was both ecstatic and terrified. A baby of his own- of their own. What if he fucked it up? What if something went wrong and he lost them both in the process? But the first three years of his little girl's life proved to be the opposite- he loved her with every fiber of his being. 

The flutter of the kicks during the first nine months of her life. Listening to her heartbeat for the first time. Watching the love of his life, his reader bring her into the world, and the first time he held her in his arms- she was so tiny he was afraid of hurting her. 

He remembered sitting in the hospital room, holding her as his wife slept, when the nurse came in and suggested that he take his shirt off and doing skin to skin contact with the baby.

“That’s a mom thing, I’m not her mom, I’m her dad,” he protested as loudly as he dared, so as to not wake the sleeping infant. 

The nurse said it didn’t matter. The process would help her regulate her temperature and her heart rate- it was biology. Beneficial to them both. Reluctantly, he handed her off his baby and unbuttoned his shirt. The nurse handed her back to him and guided him to hold her against his chest, over his heart, and covered her with the smallest pink blanket. 

“There you go Dad, just like that,” she told him.

Dad. No one had ever called him that before. At least, not in the true sense of the word. 

Overnight, the top floor of the V tower he and his wife shared with Vox and Velvette had turned into a hybrid of ruthless overlords and a little kid's dream house. Neither aunt nor uncle spared any expense the moment they found out he and his wife were expecting a little girl, and Velvette herself had designed her pink princess themed room that his daughter called her own.

Not that she slept there. For a while, she was in a bassinet. And then a crib. And as soon as she was mobile she crawled into her parents bed and that was it. She slept between them, and more than once he and reader were grateful they had a big bed. For such a tiny kid, she sure took up space. They would have to break that habit he swore he would never develop, but according to the books he read- it really was okay, at least, for the time being. 

“Dada,” she muttered. “Don’t feel good.” 

He snapped his attention back to her.  “I know babygirl. Come on, Daddy’s going to make you feel better.” He lifted her up and carried her into the kitchen.  

One of the only benefits of being home with a sick toddler was simply that he didn’t have to go into work today- he could stay at home with his little girl. Normally his wife would be the one who handled all the care, but today was day two of his sweetheart’s sickness, and his wife was spent. And so, he put her to bed and the last time he checked, she was fast asleep. 

And now as he filled the plastic syringe with a mix of bubblegum pink medication and juice, he half heartedly regretted that decision. 

“No!” She screamed when she saw the dropper. “No! No! NO!” 

No. It was her favorite word, one he was both proud and unhappy that she knew. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her for her refusal. He had tasted the sticky liquid himself out of curiosity and immediately regretted the decision. In all of hell’s amazing medical advances, could’t they make something that tasted good? 

“Dollface, I know,” he said to her tiredly. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. You take this, and I’ll take you down to see Uncle Voxxy and his sharks, okay?” 

That perked her up. 

“Sha ka. Now.” She demanded. 

He held up the medicine dropper. “Medicine first. Then sharks.”

“Sha ka!” She demanded. 

“Then open up,” he replied, taking her chin in his hand. “All of it goes into your tummy. Then sharks.” 

She gave him a look of disdain that inwardly made him wince, but she opened her mouth. Honestly, he feared what her teenage years would look like if she was this defiant at three. He stuck the syringe in her mouth and slowly pressed down on the plunger. 

“Swallow it. All of it.” He reminded her. “The sooner it goes from your mouth to your tummy, the sooner you can have juice.” 

To his relief, she swallowed it and he handed her a bottle of juice. Also probably not the best parenting decision, letting her be on a bottle this long, but the pacifier battle was enough of a fight. Even with Vox and Velvette’s help, they had to pick and choose their battles. 

“Sha ka.” She demanded, reaching for him to pick her back up. 

Valentino sighed but lifted her into his arms. She snuggled into his neck and that feeling of love, of protectiveness washed over him. He held her a little bit tighter as he carried her towards the elevator, pausing only to grab the diaper bag at the entryway. 

Love. It was his field of expertise. But nothing, not even the day he married his wife, could compare to the type of love he felt the first time he held his daughter in his arms. It was different than anything he had ever felt- pure and protective. That feeling had never gone away, even on the roughest of nights, when his wife struggled to stay awake every few hours, struggling to feed this tiny little creature that now depended on them for her every need. Of taking turns holding her until she granted them both the mercy of sleep. 

“Sha ka!” She screeched as he stepped into Vox’s office. She struggled in his arms and Valentino set her down. 

“Aw, how’s my little peanut? Come to Uncle Voxxy!” Vox turned around in his chair. 

Valentino watched as she took off to him and jumped into his arms. For the overlord of technology, he turned into mush around the little girl. And she felt the same way about him, that much was obvious. 

“Yeah, you wanna see the sharkies? Come on, we’ll go see the sharkies!”  Vox lifted her up and looked at Valentino. “You look like shi- fuck. Crap. I mean, you look like you need a shower.” 

“Swear jar. Three quarters. No exception.” Valentino half joked. 

The first time his daughter called her stuffed animal a word no toddler should say, Velvette in all her genius introduced the swear jar. The rest of them resisted at first, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it.  Vox struggled the most with the no cursing rule around the kid rule and as a result, she had enough in her piggy bank to buy herself a new car if she wanted. Sometimes, Valentino wondered if he did it on purpose. After all, she could spend the money however she chose and Valentino had a feeling that it would be spent at the toy store the next time he and his wife went out of town. 

Or he would just buy her whatever she wanted and let her keep it. The word spoiled didn’t exist in his vocabulary. At least, not when it came to her. 

“I mean it Val, let me take her for a bit. Go get cleaned up. Maybe lay down for a few minutes. I got the baby, yes I do, yes I do!” 

He looked down at himself. Black tee shirt, and yesterday's sweatpants. Probably baby vomit from when she got sick earlier. But a shower sounded like a fantastic idea- a dream, really. 

“She puked earlier, and she’s still running a fever. You sure you want that?” Valentino warned doubtfully as he handed Vox the diaper bag. 

Vox shrugged. “Push comes to shove I’ll bring her upstairs and get her changed. Not a big deal.” 

Valentino watched her snuggle into him and her bottle fell to the floor as her thumb went right back into her mouth, leaving baby drool and Lucifer knew what else all over his shirt. He bent down and picked it up, handing it to Vox. 

“You don’t want to help with bath time tonight, do you?” Valentino asked hopefully. 

Vox laughed. “Ha! Not on your life! I know what a little terror this princess is with water, yes I do! Yes I do!”

She let out a cross between a giggle and a shriek as he lightly tickled her. 

“Go, Val. Shoo. We’re fine, I promise.” Vox reiterated as he turned back towards his desk. “Say bye bye to Daddy, babygirl, we’re going to go see sharks!” 

“Sha ka!” she shrieked. “Uncie Voxxy! Sha ka!” 

“Alright. Princessa, be good for Uncle Voxxy okay?” He kissed her forehead. Cooler, but not as cool as she was earlier. He turned and walked out the door to the sound of Vox cooing to her. 

He walked back up the stairs and took as quick of a shower as he could, hoping he didn’t disturb his sleeping love. To his relief, reader didn’t move from where she lay, fast asleep. A pang of guilt. Being a full time mom was no joke, and he wished he could help her more. But hell would freeze over before he allowed his little girl in the studio- it was bad enough reader came in from time to time. He hated his wife seeing him in that role. 

He pulled on clean clothes- jeans and a black shirt and bent over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Was it him, or did she feel warm too? She blinked, and let out a tired yawn as she looked up at him. He saw the panic in her eyes. 

 “What time is Val? Where is the baby?” she asked, swinging herself out of bed. 

“Baby is with Vox, go back to sleep my love,” he said soothingly as he caught her before she could stand up.  “You need to rest.” He carefully looked at the watch on her wrist and opened the synched app on his phone. She was running a temperature too. Son of a bitch. “Do you feel okay?” 

He listened to her as she inhaled and broke out into a coughing fit that sounded similar to what the kid had come down with. She shook her head no.

 Double fuck. 

“Honey, I’m going to bring you some medication and a drink. Do you want water or juice?” he asked. 

“Water is fine.” She buried her face in her hands, only looking up when he brought both over to “I need a shower.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want, my love. I’ve got the baby.” He smoothed back her hair as she swallowed the drugs. “You rest, I need you to feel better too.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I can only do this by myself for so long. I need you back to full force, and that means lots of rest for you.”

She broke into a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. “That’s going to mean less sleep for you.”

“I’ll manage.” He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head to his chest for a moment. “Go shower, love. I’m going to free Vox from her grasp.”

She nodded and he stood up. He waited outside the door for a few minutes until he heard the water running. Only then did he make his way back down the stairs.

“Princessa? Vox?” He called as he walked into the studio. 

Vox turned around in his chair and shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips. Even from a distance, Valentino could see her tucked against Vox, his sleeves rolled up and his jacket covered her like a blanket. The drool stains on his shoulder were larger now, and was he wearing a different shirt? 

 “Shush, you’ll wake the baby,” Vox said softly as he carefully stood up and adjusted her against him.  

She snuggled into his neck and started to fuss. Vox carefully handed her back to Valentino, ensuring she stayed wrapped up in his jacket. 

“Hey baby, Daddy is here,” Valentino said quietly as he adjusted her in his arms. “Thanks, Vox.”

“Don’t mention it. That kid will rule the world someday, mark my words. I’ll see you after work tonight, happy to watch her for a few hours so you can get some rest too.” Vox handed him back the diaper bag. “She did puke by the way. Bright pink medicine, all over my shirt- totally wrecked it. Thank god you keep an extra tee shirt in the diaper bag, and I keep a spare set of my own in the office. I cleaned her up the best I could. But she fell asleep right after and I didn’t want to move her any more than I had to.” 

God, there were definitely some parts of being a parent that were completely gross, even for Valentino. 

She was fast asleep by the time Valentino carried her back upstairs. He pressed his lips to her forehead and was relieved to find she wasn’t burning up. A cool washcloth should help. He checked in on his wife, and seeing her fast asleep, made his way to the living room and laid down on the couch. It was a risk to lay the cloth on her neck but thankfully she didn’t stir. 

As he laid on the couch with her in his arms, he wondered how he would get through the next few days, and hoped that whatever sickness took both his girls down stayed far, far away from him. He needed to take care of them, after all.