#need to better figure out photographing them though

[lamentable-comedy]

Carry On Countdown Day 3: AU

More Watford Pies! (The Simon Snow Pushing Daisies AU that's been bouncing around in my brain.) This time we have Lonely Tourist Baz running into Agatha when he's supposed to be lying low, a Snowbaz plastic wrap kiss (because of course), and Penelope Bunce, private investigator, reading about an accidental involuntary manslaughter.

Is this gonna make sense to anyone who hasn't seen Pushing Daisies? Probably not. Do I care? No!

[virune]

Well if you're not completely swamped with prompts yet — Shadow has been struggling with figuring out how best to confess his feelings to Sonic, and finally decides as that as Sonic's brother, Tails would know best what he'd like and how to ask him out. At the same time, unbeknownst to him, Sonic has gone to talk to Rouge for much the same reason…

Tails was incredibly smart.

No, he was a genius.

So when he withered in response to Shadow's question, Shadow couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"You two are best friends, aren't you? Surely he'd mention… something?"

"Brothers," Tails corrected, setting his pencil down atop the schematic he'd been working on. "And Sonic doesn't talk to me about his love life."

Shadow glanced around the workshop, looking for… what? He wasn't sure. A clue of some kind? A photograph, maybe, or an item that might belong to someone besides Sonic or Tails. But there was nothing, that he could tell, of the sort.

"Is that because he isn't dating, or because he keeps his relationships private from you?"

Tails shrugged. "I don't know. Could be either."

"Hm."

"Why are you asking about his love life, anyway? Are you interested in him?"

Shadow froze up, staring at an oil stain on the floor as the words of denial died in his throat. He heard the chair creak as Tails shifted his weight on it.

"Are you planning on telling him how you feel?"

"I don't know how," Shadow said softly.

The fox's keen ears twitched, hearing it anyway. "You want me to help?"

Shadow's eyes snapped back up, mouth parted in surprise. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, all he could do was nod.

"If it makes you feel better, you have my blessing. Not that you need it; Sonic's allowed to date whoever he wants. I'm just letting you know."

Something fluttered in Shadow's chest. Tails had always seemed so afraid of him. He never thought the fox would ever approve of Shadow courting his best friend - no, his brother.

To hear his approval was… it was nice. Encouraging. Shadow had harboured feelings for Sonic since they first met - he just hadn't realised what those feelings were until a few weeks ago.

Unsure how to navigate this new, foreign territory, Shadow had to admit to his own inexperience and ask for help.

"Thank you."

Tails smiled softly at that, and Shadow sensed a new, small friendship blossoming between them. He promised himself he wouldn't trample it.

"Like I said, I don't know anything about Sonic's love life," Tails continued. "But you could always try taking him out for food - you know he loves eating almost as much as running, right? And then, maybe you could go somewhere nice. Watch the sunset with him or something."

Despite his nerves, Shadow couldn't help but scoff. "That sounds awfully romantic. Are you sure that Sonic even likes romantic?"

Tails looked at him strangely, as though privy to something Shadow wasn't aware of. "Oh, I don't think he'll mind."

Shadow considered the idea; he imagined booking a reservation at a nice restaurant and wearing something nice. Maybe Rouge could help him get dressed up. Would Sonic dress up too? Would he have to ask Sonic to dress up? Would Sonic even want to--

"Shadow?" Tails called, snapping him from his racing thoughts.

"Yes. Sorry," Shadow babbled, shaking his head. "Does Sonic own any formal attire?"

Tails scratched behind his ear. "I think he might still have an old suit laying around for when he has to attend fancy ceremonies and stuff. He doesn't like wearing it though, so it's usually shoved in a box somewhere until he needs it."

Shadow's shoulders drooped. Ah. So formal wear would be off the table. He didn't want to make Sonic uncomfortable - that would be counterproductive to his goal.

"Never mind, then. I can find somewhere without a strict dress code."

"Huh?" Tails' namesakes bushed up behind him in delighted shock. "So you're really gonna take him on a date?"

Warmth blossomed in Shadow's muzzle. "I am simply taking your advice. Does Sonic have a food preference? Allergies?"

The young fox laughed brightly. "Nah, he'll eat just about anything. Why not take him someplace you like?"

"I do not…" Shadow paused, gritting his teeth, and inhaled through his nose. "I do not have experience with this sort of thing."

"Oh… oh! That's - that's OK!" Tails waved his paws in front of him, quick to assuage Shadow's nervousness. "I can look into it for you and text you an address. Do you have my number?"

"That sounds acceptable." Shadow fished his phone from between his quills. "Here. I don't think I have it."

Tails accepted the phone delicately, tapping digits on the screen. Then there was a ping sound from somewhere on the desk behind him and he reached to pick up his own phone, which now had a text from Shadow's number.

"Done and done! I'll add you as a contact and keep you updated when I find something."

"Thank you," Shadow repeated, taking his phone back and returning it safely within his quills. "I was wondering, though. Why are you OK with helping me? I know that I haven't always been kind to you, or Sonic."

"I know you're a good person," Tails offered, giving a warm smile that crinkled blue eyes. "Sonic knows it too. Trust me."

Shadow peered at him. "Even after all the times we've fought?"

"Well, sure. Have you met the guy? He loves sparring with you. I think he enjoys being challenged, too, because it keeps his skills sharp." Tails turned his attention to his computer, tapping away at the keyboard to begin his search. "Don't worry. I have a feeling it'll go just fine."

Shadow didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded.

---

"My, my! So the Hero of Mobius is asking me for dating advice!"

"Keep your voice down!" Sonic hissed, looking around quickly. "This was a bad idea. Why did I do this?"

"Oh, honey, don't be absurd. Who else could help you with such a delicate topic? So!" Rouge leaned her elbows against the table, resting her chin on her hands as she watched Sonic squirm. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"Uh." Sonic found a group of friends chatting at the bar particularly interesting. Then, a food stain on the floor. Anything but Rouge's piercing stare. "It's actually a… a guy."

Rouge's eyebrows shot up. "Well, aren't you full of surprises, Big Blue?"

Sonic slumped in his seat. He was sure the blush on his face was as obvious as it was warm. "Will you help me or not?"

"That depends. Why don't you tell me a little about this mystery man of yours?"

"Um, well. He - he can be pretty serious most of the time, but he's a good person once you get to know him."

"Is he handsome?"

Sonic flinched like he'd been hit. His fingers tugged at the cuff of his glove.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Oh, just look at you!" Rouge cooed. "Well, I hope you'll introduce me to him one day!"

"Actually, um. You already know him."

Rouge grabbed her iced tea and stirred it before she took a sip. "Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?"

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"And why would I do that?"

Sonic narrowed his eyes. "Because you would if you knew who I'm talking about."

Rouge sighed and folded her arms. "Just spill it, Blue. You know I'll find out eventually, so I may as well hear it from you first."

"I hate that you're right."

Sonic rubbed his red face. He also hated how difficult this was. Sure, he'd never actually felt this way about someone before, but he was the Hero of Mobius! He was supposed to handle anything thrown at him!

But this was different. This was…

"Shadow."

Rouge blinked. Her wings fluttered slightly, scraping the seat behind her. She tilted her head as if she'd misheard.

"Pardon, sugar?"

"I said - I said Shadow." Sonic's hands curled into fists in his lap. "It's Shadow."

He waited. Waited for the surprised gasp, the hearty laugh, the wipe of an invisible tear from her expensive mascara.

Instead, Rouge had gone quiet. Unusually so. It made Sonic's fur prickle all across his chest.

"Well?" he blurted, aggravated by the silence. "I told you, didn't I?"

"I wasn't expecting that."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, I just…" Rouge's eyes seemed to lose focus, as though she were recalling a memory, and then she snapped back to the present moment. "Wow. OK. This is big news!"

Sonic watched her carefully. She must have known something he didn't, but Chaos help him if he tried to find out what.

"You're friends with Shadow, right? So how do I go about… y'know." Sonic gestured vaguely into the air. "Asking him out?"

"Besties," Rouge corrected, smoothing down the longer fur on the back of her head. "And I can tell you for certain that Shadow doesn't care for expensive luxuries. Not like me."

"Does that mean a fancy dinner date is off the table?"

Sonic couldn't help but feel relieved by that; he had an old suit somewhere back home, one he kept around for special events, but he hated having to wear it.

"I think so. But you could always try somewhere a little less… stuffy." Rouge rifled through her handbag and took out her phone. "Let's swap numbers, and I'll track down a nice place for you."

"Oh. I don't… I mean, I've tried to have a phone in the past, but I always end up breaking them." Sonic gave an awkward laugh as he rubbed his neck. "Tails is still figuring out how to make one that's indestructible."

"Well, in that case, I'll get in touch with your little fox friend. He's a smart kid. I'm sure he'll be helpful."

"No, wait! Tails can't find out!"

"Why not?"

"Because I…" Sonic fumbled, feeling more and more like an idiot by each passing second. "I haven't exactly… told him yet."

"I understand," Rouge purred. "I'll keep things vague. Neither your name, nor Shadow's, will ever come up."

"OK. OK, yeah, that sounds good."

"Never doubt me, Big Blue. You've entrusted me with this, and I won't let you down. I'm a professional in affairs of the heart."

For emphasis, Rouge gave a theatrical salute.

Sonic groaned.

[loveandleases]

G's, M's and Isaac's most embarassing memory (for G with and without MC if possible?), most fond, most cherished?

Sure thing! Going to put it under a cut because it got quite long.

💙 G

Most Embarrassing: The first time G's parents came to visit them at Uni, a certain roommate was having sex in the room, and G's parents thought it was G x Chris.

Most Fond: Back in Uni, G, Cam, and MC would pull all-nighters at the cafe. Early on G was following in their parent's footsteps of going to medical school with the end goal of becoming a surgeon. They really struggled and one of their ways of coping was drawing in the margins of their books or even Cam and MC's. The pages would have a little dog or a cat, just dressed in a lab coat.

One late night, after a long cram session, G was exhausted and a bit vulnerable. Cam was listing off random get-rich-quick schemes so that he could drop out and just become a photographer. (Each idea worse than the previous one). MC glanced over at G, noticed one of their doodles, and said, "You'd probably treat patients better if they had fur."

It was such a simple, offhanded comment. But that night, something about it just resonated with G. The thought just lingered, and for the first time, they were considering what they might want. That one little sentence from MC became a catalyst, it planted a seed of doubt about their future - and it threw their plan on its head. Regardless of what happened between them, they can fondly reflect on that moment in time. Because that comment changed their life for the better.

Most Cherished: (Ex) Their first kiss with MC (which was also G's first kiss.) It was unexpected, yet everything they could have hoped for if they allowed themselves to dream big. (Ex/Friend) When G was in the process of figuring out if they wanted to be a Vet, they had gotten Cam to agree to come with them to volunteer at an animal shelter. They were tasked with bathing the animals. Which was fine....at first. About 6 animals in, G had noticed that Cam kept scratching, to the point that he thought he was having an allergic reaction. Nope, Cam just caught fleas. So, every Christmas. G gifts Cam flea shampoo. The tag always says “Just a little something for our favorite shelter stray.”

💛 M

Most Embarrassing: Before M was a writer, they used to work at the cafe. One day a person walked up to them and asked them out.

“Hey, would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

M, as oblivious as ever, misunderstood completely and thought they were being asked if the person wanted their order taken outside. Without missing a beat, M grabbed the person’s coffee, nodded enthusiastically, and said, “Sure, I can take that outside for you.””

The person was so confused as M casually walked to the door, set the order down on the sidewalk, and gave a little wave. “There you go, all set!”

In the person’s eyes, not only did they get turned down for a date, but M had essentially kicked them out while smiling.

Most Fond: M had struggled for years trying to get published. There would be days when they were supposed to be helping in the kitchen of the cafe, but instead, they were jotting down things for their book on stray pieces of paper. They read all the books you will find in the Cafe, leafing through them hoping that each bit of knowledge they gained would help them become a better writer.

It wasn't needed, but M was certain there was just something wrong with their work. Until one day, it just happened. Their manuscript was accepted. The first people they called were their mom's. It was one of the best moments in M's life thus far. Even though they were barely able to afford rent, and the only food in their fridge was a jar of marmalade.

Most Cherished: After their first book was published and it picked up traction, it became quite popular. M was struggling with writer's block, which they tend to do. So they visited the cafe and the first thing they saw on the counter, was a copy of their book. M had thought about giving up so many times, but to be in that place it was a full circle moment for them.

💜 Isaac

Most Embarrassing: Isaac and Ardent used to have a thing. One day the two of them are in the little elevator of Ardent's apartment building. Their hands are roaming one another's bodies, sliding underneath fabric, both of them caught up in the heat of the moment. Now imagine their surprise when the first face and voice they see is Ardent's mother when the elevator door opens.

Most Fond: When they became sober, truly sober. Kara really kept Isaac in check, and reminded him what he was doing it for. Who he was doing it for. It took a lot to get to that point, and Isaac doesn't believe they could have done it without Kara there to support them.

Most Cherished: Spoiler, but I can say it involves their mother.

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love. 

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important. 

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be? 

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

���You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired. 

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever. 

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me. 

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core. 

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical. 

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away. 

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it! 

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything. 

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat. 

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?” 

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[boyfriendstevie]

Photographer!bf!stevie who’s obsessed w your 🐱 to the point he takes artsy soulful pics of it !!!!

oh... my god. anon. u have awoken something inside of me. i... i am unwell. i hope u enjoy | .7k; fem!reader; 18+!!! mdni!!!

-

Steve loves to take pictures of you. All day, every day. You’re his muse, as he says. Not all of the pictures are sexual. Steve thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he just needs to capture that. To save it, even though the pictures never quite do you justice. He’s got rolls and rolls of film of you in all states of dress, and more polaroids than he knows what to do with. A normal, tame picture of you smiling at him during a date night goes in his wallet, and the dirtier ones get tucked into the corner of one of the drawers in his nightstand. 

His favorite pictures of you, though, are the private ones, the ones that do get tucked away for later. The ones he’d never share with anyone else. The ones of you dolled up in pretty lingerie, tits spilling out of the delicate cups, pussy covered in soft lace. The ones where you’re wrapped in your bedsheets, hair a mess against the pillows. The ones where you’re wearing even less, completely exposed for him and him alone. 

Ones where your own fingers are in your cunt, or even better, his cock is buried inside of you. He loves the pictures he takes just after sex, thumb pulling at your folds to spread you open, slick and cum dripping out of your entrance. Your face is rarely in the pictures, but that’s okay, he doesn’t need to see it to remember the way you looked writhing against the sheets, to remember the sounds you made as you came.

You’re always shy about it, no matter the situation. It’s not that you mind, you know that Steve would never do anything with the pictures that you didn’t want. But it’s hard not to preen at his attention and adoration for you. He’ll pull out of you slowly, nose nudging against yours gently, and when he sits up to see the mess you’ve both made, your wild hair and plump lips, he hurries to get his camera, “Wait, stay right there, baby. You look gorgeous right now. Need a picture.” 

“Steve, you already have more than enough,” you complain, though you don’t actually mind. You pose exactly as he wants, legs spread around his figure, totally bare for him.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, as he takes the picture. 

You giggle shyly, hands covering your face as you draw your knees together coquettishly and to one side, “Oh shush.” 

Steve gets serious then, shaking his head quickly as he snaps a few more before putting the camera down on the bed, “I will literally never shut up about how beautiful you are. My perfect girl. This pretty pussy is just for me, huh?” 

“Just for you,” you sigh as his hands push up the length of your legs, spreading them open for him again, fingertips dipping into the mess between your thighs softly. Teasingly. 

“Yeah?” he asks, fingers tracing up your slit until he finds your clit, “‘s all mine.”

“‘M all yours,” you repeat, breathless as he rubs your clit gently, knowing you’re probably still sensitive. You throw your arm over your eyes as you close them, overwhelmed with his praise and his touch. Still, your hips lift to his touch, chest heaving. 

“I gotcha, baby,” he murmurs, fingers circling your entrance, collecting your slick and his cum to push inside of you as he slips his fingers into you with a filthy sound. “Christ, honey.”

Your face burns, and you can’t help the whine you let out, “Oh— f-fuck, Steve—“

His fingers curl perfectly and you moan loudly, back arching off of the bed. Steve is great at multitasking; his fingers fuck in and out of you while his free hand reaches for his polaroid. He manages to take a shot of his middle and ring fingers deep inside your cunt. As soon as the picture pops out of the camera, he tosses it aside and doubles down, thumb rubbing against your clit, “Will ya let me taste your pussy, too, sweetheart? Can never get enough of you.”   

[lukolabrainrot]

So there is as a lot of rumors etc going on yesterday people attacking others. Some type of information should never be shared. Pap pictures sometime cross lines. So if it's a photograph or where someone lives then no it should never be shared with the masses. Do I think L and N are spending time together? yes. Y'all do realize a lot has happened in the last year. What both of them have gone through is unimaginable! They played these characters and their personal feelings bled into the characters. They were confused and made decisions based on those feelings. And I'm sure based on the professionals help. They need time to work through all their crap. Also just be aware i truly think we won't know when things are happening and honestly if it's better for them to be private until they are stronger then why would we as fans need to know. Clearly a lot going down BTS enough was dropped that we should all know that. Just let's give them time they need to clear the air.

💯

It's been VERY toxic in the fandom this week, and a LOT has gone down this week that I have not enjoyed/been happy with related to how the fandom has been interacting/consuming information.

WE NEED TO GIVE L/N PRIVACY. EVERYONE INVOLVED. NONE OF US KNOW THEM. INCLUDING ME. A lot of this is just my theories based on what I observe.

It's alright to speculate and theorize on publicly available information on what might be going on in smaller spaces like this. It is NOT alright though to invade people's privacy and jeopardize their safety. We need to just let them cook y'all, and see what happens. We'll get answers EVENTUALLY.

I also agree that L has probably been spending more time with N since the Italy bday trip. He's very likely going through a messy untanglement/breakup, POSSIBLY a fallout with R (one of his oldest friends), POSSIBLY trying to figure stuff out with N, going through a LOT psychologically, and L/N are CONSTANTLY being analyzed/watched now. That has to be a LOT. We need to just give them space to figure their lives out.

Would I love to have concrete evidence that L/N are together now and cozied up at her house. Of course! It would make my heart so happy to know these two were able to get on the same page. HOWEVER, I DO NOT WANT this announcement to come from anyone but L/N themselves, and ON THEIR OWN TIME! Remember what happened with Tomdaya... And Tom said how unhappy they were that people couldn't just respect their privacy and they were FORCED to publicly acknowledge their relationship. I'm worried that we are headed in that direction potentially with L/N, and it makes me very disheartened.

[httpspedri26]

Your losing me (pt.2)

Angst fluff

Jude x reader

I’m still writing some requests but feel free to leave more!!

Your losing me (pt.1)

Jude hated himself because of what he did six months ago. These last months were the longest he ever went without you, without the sound of your voice, your laughter, Your scent still wonders around the house though, it’s everywhere, even though Jude has washed your pillow countless times or had another woman sleep on it. It serves as a constant reminder that you once in that house with him.

Every corner of the house holds memories of you both - the photographs on the walls, every time he wants to take the pictures of the wall he breaks down crying, so he figured it was better to leave them there.

He often wonders if you think about him too, if you miss him like he misses you. . The thought of you moving on, finding happiness with someone else, is both a source of pain and a glimmer of hope. Deep down, he wants nothing more than for you to be happy, but he can’t stand imagining you with another man.

This week, Real Madrid had agreed to cancel this week’s training for the holidays to spend some quality time with their families. Jude initially hadn't planned on returning to Dortmund, but he really wanted to see y/n, that’s all he had been wishing for these past 6 months just to hold her in his arms again.

That’s why he finds himself back in dourtmund back in the front door of his and y/n house. He didn’t really know how he got there, he wasn’t planning on showing up at your doorstep at this time, but all roads lead him here.

He can hear footsteps as soon as he knocks on the door. Jude’s heart drops as he sees a man, the complete opposite of him, standing in front of him. brown hair, light eyes, and fair skin.

"Hey, can I help you with something?" The man furrowed his eyebrows as he asked Jude.

Jude felt like his throat was closing and couldn't speak.

"I, um, no, sorry. I think I'm in the wrong house," Jude blurted out, as soon as he heard your voice from afar asking who it was.

✿

It’s been a few days since Jude appeared at Y/N’s front door. He had been staying at his parents' house in Dortmund, still alone as nobody was there yet. They were in Sunderland with Jobe for a few days before coming over to Dortmund, which brought Jude a sense of relief, not wanting his family to see him in that state.

A soft knock from the front door snapped Jude out of his thoughts. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he groaned and threw his head back as he stood up from the couch. Opening the door, your scent enveloped his mind.

“Hey, Jude.” Y/n shivered from the rain; she only had one rain jacket that barely covered her.

"Y/n, are you insane?" Jude exclaimed as he pulled her into the house, wrapping her in his arms. She smelled as she always did, her scent filling Jude's nose. He felt the urge to cry, to drop to his knees and apologize for everything. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. The warmth of Jude’s embrace offered a temporary refuge from the cold rain outside.

“I was just walking around, needed some fresh air,” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible over the raindrops tapping on the windows.

Jude tightened his grip, his heart heavy with unspoken words. “And you came here? How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you Jude, before you left my house, I was just scared to say anything”

After they pulled away from each other, Jude rushed to grab a towel for y/n, making sure she wasn't still shaking from the cold rain. As he wrapped the towel around her, Y/n looked around the living room, recognizing the unchanged details of a place. The family photographs on the wall, and also a picture of her and Jude kissing caught her eye, prompting her to break the silence.

“Why did you go to my house Jude?”

Jude met Y/n's gaze, sincerity reflecting in his eyes. "because I miss you, Y/n/n. These past six months have been the longest, and it's been horrible. It hurts when my friends, my parents, even Jobe asks about you. I want to fix this, to make things right between us."

Y/n sighed, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and sadness. “Jude, we broke up because our relationship wasn’t working anymore. You know that. It’s not just about the past six months; it’s about what led us here.”

Jude’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “I know I messed up, but I can change. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, to be the person you need me to be. Please, give us another chance.”

Y/n hesitated, her heart torn between the memories they shared and the pain they endured. “Jude, it’s not that simple. We both need time to heal and figure things out.”

"Six months were enough for me, y/n. I don't need any more time to know that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you, and only you, you know how hard I tried to forget you? I went on thousands of dates, but I hated them all because nobody was you. please give me one more chance y/n/n”.

Y/n hesitated, the weight of those words hanging in the air. The scars from the past were etched deep, forgiveness wasn’t something Y/N was considering. After a moment of silence, y/n finally spoke, “It’s not that simple Jude, you really hurt me.”

Sighing in defeat, a tear traced down his cheek. Y/N smiled softly, delicately wiping his tears away. "But I can't live without you, Jude. I love you."

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has a lego doll of you as a keychain. on one of your video calls, Jimin was busy with several lego pieces while you read that book that you should have finished months ago. since you were both silent, you didn’t have any need to look at Jimin and see what he was doing — a certainty in your calls was that each of you dedicated themselves to their hobby and there was never a need to talk. but when Jimin started calling your name very softly, you became curious. he contained a small smile, repeating your name with delicacy and a little grace, showing that he had something to tell you. so, when you looked at the screen and saw a lego doll with hair like yours and clothes in your favorite colors, you just smiled. Jimin was always so attentive, he loved loving you. “i’m going to use this as my keychain! i need to find a way to keep it from coming apart. when i figure it out, i’ll make a doll of myself and send it to you so we can match, what do you think?”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has contact with your closest friend to help him make surprises for you. loving you was the most natural thing for Jimin; however, showing this love was something more complicated since kilometers of distance prevented Jimin from worshiping you as you deserved. but that was no excuse for him not to love you. one way or another, Jimin managed to get in touch with your closest friend, asking if they wanted to help him with his little surprises. from picking bouquets of flowers, creating a picnic in the middle of the park or making a quick dinner, Jimin gave so many ideas and instructions to your friend that even they themselves felt Jimin’s love for you. with surprises every now and then, ever since Jimin managed to form a friendship with that friend of yours, loving you was the most natural and easiest thing in the world. “i spoke to our mutual friend this week and they said they weren’t available this month. so i hope you know it’s their fault! i still love you!”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who keeps sending you the names of cities he wants to visit with you. Jimin had already seen the world but there was a lot of the world he hadn’t seen yet and it was these more remote corners that attracted Jimin. he didn’t even need to look; his phone already seemed to know that Jimin had a secret desire to see the world with you. by showing articles or photographs, Jimin’s phone became a complete catalog of the most beautiful and forgotten places in the world, enticing Jimin with their splendid descriptions and breathtaking images. and when he was sure that was where he wanted to go, Jimin would send you the article or photo always with the same description, adding the name of this paradise to his endless list of places to visit with you. “another paradise discovered. one day we will be here exploring these beaches. but for now, here are the photos as appetizers.”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who has your coordinates as his phone password. when Jimin met you, he never thought you would become the most important person in his life. but the reality is that in mere days and weeks, your presence began to be something essential to Jimin and, after two, three months, Jimin knew that his true home was your soul. as such, Jimin wanted to have a lot of you in his daily life to disguise his neediness. it wasn’t easy being miles away from you, but at least you were in Jimin’s life — that was all that mattered. when your feelings were acknowledged and shared, there was a mutual agreement to wait for each other — neither of you would deny your feelings, just keep them in a little box until the time was right. but Jimin was needy and Jimin needed you in his everyday life. so, what better solution than putting your city’s coordinates as your phone’s unlocker? it was something important to Jimin, something he used every day several times a day, it only made sense to make you guard his privacy, even though you were on the other side of the phone. “are you always going to move cities? i need to know if you’re really going to stay there to change my phone password. and now that i had just memorized your city…”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who is always available for a call, even when he was working. of course when Jimin is performing it’s impossible for him to talk to you, but even so, he made an effort. amidst the rush to change clothes, get hair and makeup done, Jimin always found a second to ask if you were okay. Jimin knew how important he was in your life and he knew that those kilometers away were somewhat painful. that’s why Jimin always wanted to show you that you were always his priority — whether he was working or not. whenever you needed a little ‘i love you’ made on the spot, Jimin wasn’t afraid to call you and confess right then and there. your well-being was the most important thing, Jimin didn’t want to know anything other than you. “i’m going on stage again. are you sure you’re okay? remember i’m always here. 20 minutes and i’m back, okay? i love you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who is never jealous but pretends to be because he knows it makes you feel important. Jimin was confident in your feelings. the words you exchanged were too comical to be empty, becoming the fortifications of your relationship, the foundations of your love. as such, Jimin knew that you loved him and that there was no one but him. but Jimin also knew that you liked to feel loved, to feel important in his life — being jealous of your friends or men who look at you was just to see you happy. Jimin found out that you liked seeing his more jealous side when he commented on a photo of you with your best friend, referring to the fact that the two of you were very close. and, since then, it was easy for Jimin to find one or another occasion to throw small words that made you feel important — it was a small effort that didn’t cost anything. “yesterday you went to dinner at that restaurant you said you wanted to take me to. i thought only i was allowed to go there with you, but apparently you like everyone’s company more, right?”

LONG-DISTANCE!JIMIN who waited for you outside your work on a friday. Jimin hadn’t told you that he was at the front of the building with a small bouquet of daisies in his hand. Jimin hadn’t told you that he had flown endless hours to be there at that moment. Jimin hadn’t told you that he had taken the weekend off to spend it with you. and Jimin had thanked himself for not having done that, because your look of astonishment when you saw him was something incomparable. it took you exactly one minute and twenty-four seconds to assimilate that image before you and, when your eyes confirmed that it was Jimin who was waiting for you downstairs, the smile you let out and the hug you gave him were the greatest gift the universe could have given to Jimin. finally you two were together. finally all those kilometers had reduced to mere millimeters. finally Jimin could love you like you deserved to be loved. “i have three whole days just for you. during this weekend i’m going to show you that it wasn’t a mistake that you chose me as the keeper of your heart. i love you so much.”

[tinyidle]

i see that hongjoong taught wooyoung photography lol.. the recent pictures that he's shared on FROMM look so aesthetically pleasing

but ofc, since im insane and i like to share my imaginations... nfsw, candaulism (photo fetish), exhibitionism, groping, teasing, three-way (2 on 1), fem!reader, model reader, photographers!topaz, all fiction ofc

imagine photographer!wooyoung angling his body in a way to take pictures of you, with photographer!hongjoong occasionally fixing the scraps of your airy clothes as you posed for the shoot. the studio was small yet spacious-- you were laying on a studio stump covered with sheets that matched the background and fit your nude-tone dress.

'snap!' wooyoung pulls the camera off his face and shows his mentor the shots he captured. "how does this look, hyung?"

the older man looked up at the screen and slanted his eyes. he then got up and held onto wooyoung's shoulders, whispering to him as they walked away from your lying figure. you, being confused, started getting up until you heard "stay right there, pretty."

you simply nodded and lay back down. before you began to close your eyes, you felt two pairs of hands travelling all over your body. "wh- what're you guys-" you try to ask, but you cut yourself off with a breathy moan as you feel a pair of lips latch onto your nipple.

"that's it," hongjoong smiles as he sees his protege use you. he puts the viewfinder of the camera to his right eye, expertly squinting before commanding wooyoung to pull back. you, in a bliss, were too dazed to hear or see the shutter of the camera go off.

when he gets the shots he needed, he showed wooyoung who made a noise of awe and approval. "see, you have to get your figure models in the right frame of mind to have the perfect picture. and this-", hongjoong repeatedly pressed the left arrow button until he went to the picture that showed the glistening of wooyoung's saliva on your breast, "-can be captured with just the right lighting and filtration." hongjoong gave wooyoung his camera and showed him the settings he used to get the shots he just took. "here, you try this time."

once the older went to you, it was almost game over. even though you recovered from the nipple play, hongjoong's touch almost felt like cascading water on you. every time his hand traced over your neck, reaching to your pelvis but barely giving you what you were craving, and opened your legs to reveal your soaking center, you let out mere gasps of approval and slight frustration. and each and every reaction resulted in the flash going off.

"yes!" you heard as the younger personally cheered at the pictures he took. "look, hyung. these look so much better than before." as they admired at each shot, they turned to you and carefully sat you up. as hongjoong put your clothes back into place, wooyoung showed you each shot. "you like them?"

you smiled as you saw how each picture embodied the fullness of erotica while not looking at all staged-- knowing that it wasn't. "i love them. please email me them to my portfolio." the two men nodded before giving you each a kiss on the cheek. you were definitely getting booked by them next week.

[redrobinsrobbingrobin]

Here is the aforementioned essay! I said I’d get it done (and my notes were pretty detailed anyway)

Dick's robin is representative of the distinction of youth culture coming to light as more kids distanced themselves from the conservative views and began questioning authority figures, during the 40s, when they questioned the actual effects and causes of war, questioned the authority behind it and the reason for not intervening earlier. Batman as a character was also introduced in this period, and is a call for social change. He is a billionaire who wants to help the lower class. He empathises with the people, he sympathises with the child that lost his parents in front of him, and death is a driving factor in both their lives. To me, this seems like a homage to the families who lot their children, their fathers, their brothers, to the war, and wanted to do and be better, to live their memory and be able to push through and help the world. Dick also puts McCarthyism into question, as he doesn't exactly obey Batman all the time, despite needing to. He questions Batman, he questions Bruce, he is rebellious and harsh, and angry, and maybe that's how he would have turned out, even without Bruce giving him a cape and weapons.he represents the beginnings of change, the start of hope after a war, the ability to raise yourself and your family above that.

Jason's post crisis character when referring to youth of the time is much like Tim's and Dick's. This was a period after wartime economy, where the majority of the population were people who couldn't fight in the war, where communism was a genuine fear, and his whole story line of 'crime alley, poor orphan, adopted by a billionaire,' pulls both capitalism and communism into question- why is there a billionaire when the people are suffering, and capitalism CAN help the few lucky enough to receive that help. In terms of youth attitudes, he came from a time of youth rebellion, evident in his later comics, where he pulled away from Batman which lead to his eventual death. He took more risks, he had an edge over Dick I terms of his street brawler style instead of Dick's grace in acrobatics. The older generations saw this rebellion of youth as off putting, and often refused to hire younger generations due to their more leftist views, and a perceived notion of them being radical and troublemakers. This stigma till exists today and is still evident in later Robin runs.

Tim’s characterisation as a representation if the youth is the most prominent to a modern audience, though, because he is representative of teens in the 90s/very early 2000s and they were attempting to get more teens into comics without it being seen as nerdy, however, this push for more youth diversity in comics prompted a huge shift in youth culture, where comics were now being seen as old people stuff and ‘nerd culture’ up until televised media (TV/movies) started adapting it to exclusively appeal to nerd audiences who didn’t want to watch new media, as it might mean letting go of old media. Televised adaptations also brought in new fans who could understand storylines visually and in a more efficient way than reading several decades worth of back reading comics could. Tim was a skateboarder and a photographer, and these pictures and excessive stalking of Batman and Robin could almost be seen as a teenage girl in the 90s having posters of her celebrity crush all over the walls. He also slept A LOT, which might be the writers trying to represent the youth as lazy in order to keep older readers and avoid being seen as 'pandering' to the youth.

Coincidentally, Steph was also introduced as a Robin during this period of the early 2000s which meant that DC were trying to ensure that women were being represented more in traditionally male media in order for the women’s equality movements to also be appealed to. She, as a character, does not fit into any stereotypical female character archetype (nosy reporter, damsel on distress, femme fatale) and is so evidently an individual of her own, without simply being a part of someone else’s character, like Tim’s. This shift in views towards women in comics was probably what stopped more comics from ‘fridging’ their female characters in order to elevate a male character’s story, even though Steph and Barbara were both pretty badly portrayed at the end of their individual runs (Killing Joke and No Man's Land, and Steph's baby). Her introduction as a Robin, 'the Girl Wonder' was so that Batman comics would appeal to more women, specifically, women who were actively less conservative and more likely to get into traditionally male medias, as many women in the 2000s were stepping out of conservative roles, and more were engaging in these 'nerdy' interests.

Damian’s introduction in a post 9/11 world, where the vilification of the LoA had reached a high and probably contributed to the extreme whitewashing of his character, sometimes seen in the DCAU, or even a lot in comics. He seems to feel ostracised by the rest of the family, because of his upbringing, the same way many Arabs and other ethnic minorities felt at this time. Damian being white passing also meant that he perhaps reflected the Arab youth in America who were not so outwardly ostracised by their peers due to the racial and religious tensions in the country. He was also introduced in or around 2006 (I can’t remember the exact date) where the youth were, again, largely viewed as rebellious or hooligans, which is NOT reflected in his character, not that I can think of any examples.

Anyway. That’s it for the essay, let me know if I missed something, or got something wrong, and thank you for reading till the end!

[raiynnah]

Secret Identity

@wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 988 (this one got away from me a bit whoops) Note: swearing

“You don’t understand, Lily, I need to know.” Remus throws his hands up pleadingly.

“Your job shouldn’t require you to start breaking into places, Remus! Especially not in search of reckless vigilantes.” She glares at him and then at the desk he’s sitting at, at the newspaper clippings and the piles of notes scattered across the oak surface, pointing at it accusingly. “You’re obsessed!”

“I’m a journalist,” he insists, knowing very well that it doesn’t explain his actions.

“You’ve been working at this job for three years. It’s only now, with the rise of these so-called heroes, that has you acting with such—such insanity!”

“Oh stop, Lily, you know that they’re heroes. You’re just mad that they do a better job than Severus,” he spits back cruelly.

“Don’t you dare, Lupin,” she warns him, “I don’t give a flying fuck what Severus Snape is doing at his little police job. I care about the fact that your new idols create such damage in their super-powered fights. Did you even see the news last Sunday? An entire highway flooded with sewer water!”

Silence follows, both of them at a standstill. Remus grabs the mug of cooling tea off his desk and takes a sip just for something to do, trying to hide his reaction to the bitter taste. Lily cracks a smile knowingly and sighs.

“Why do you even care so much? I know Dumbledore wants to find out their identities for publicity’s sake but that can’t be all of it.” Remus puts the mug down, rearranging his notes. She waits impatiently with her arms crossed. “Well?”

“You remember when Padfoot saved that one journalist who got too close to the fight?” he asks out of nowhere, handing her the photo one of his colleagues took and published.

“Yeah?” She grabs it, eyes scanning for details. Dorcas is an amazing photographer but she hadn't managed to catch the journalist’s face, only a figure in business casual being cradled by the disguise-clad hero. Remus is grateful for it.

“Well…that’s me,” he says, avoiding eye-contact. He remembers that day well, though less so the danger and more the muscles of the man that caught him, the strength in the man’s voice, and the rushed beating of his own heart for all the wrong reasons. Remus would bet all of his journalistic integrity that the man is extremely handsome under that costume.

“Remus! You could have been badly hurt!”

“I know but I needed to talk to them. I think they could help me with this other project.” He knows it’s too vague so when she keeps staring at him he continues, “My project hunting down Greyback and finally getting that monster behind bars.” She sighs, knowing it would be no use to argue. Truthfully, she doesn’t even want to, after so many years of friendship Remus’ revenge has become hers.

“Fine, tell me what you got.” He beams at her, pulling out the stool next to him for her to sit.

“Well, we know Padfoot has some kind of teleportation or phasing powers. He hasn’t used it much but it seems like control over his position or visibility in space or something. And—”

“—How do you know it’s a he?”

“I asked him.” He pauses, debates how to tell her this. “And, I kinda…have his phone number?”

“You WHAT?” she shrieks. “I thought we were trying to uncover their identities and take the man that ruined your life to jail, not flirt with someone you don’t even know. He could be fifty and yell at waitresses!”

“Why not do both?” He grins. “And my chances of secret fifty year olds hitting on me are the same as they are on Tinder, which I remind you, you signed me up for.” 

“Fine. Continue.”

“Thank you. So, anyway, that makes sense because a Padfoot is a kind of mythical dog that can become invisible. I don’t know if he moves when invisible at a super-powered pace or if it’s like teleportation.” He glances over at her and she nods.” Then there’s Prongs who seems to have super-strength and really quick healing, possibly regeneration. I’m not sure how it ties in but deer do shed and regrow their antlers?” It’s a shot in the dark really.

“Ok so Padfoot is the one you have a crush on, yes?”

“It’s not a crush!” Giving him a look, Lily taps at the photo he taped on the wall his desk touches. It’s a photo of both superheroes and it’s not Remus’ fault that Prongs is somewhere behind all the rubble, only his head pointing out. Padfoot is in the middle, his tight suit clinging to his muscles, the face of a black dog with silver eyes and teeth branded on his chest. His hood is drawn back a bit so Remus can almost see his eyes, though they’re most likely covered as well. Unconsciously he leans forward as if he could pull the hood down from the other side of the photograph.

“So what are you doing with his phone number? It’s a burner phone I’m assuming.”

“Most likely, though I actually think it’s linked with a third person.” Lily frowns, confused. “Someone on the comms, someone I think they call Wormtail.”

“Have you talked to anyone else about this theory?”

“I thought about talking to Peter,” he says, “He’s a good investigator. But I don’t want this to get out at work. And besides, he’s too close to Black.” Remus scowls, thinking back to the day the newcomer arrived, hired too quickly and not fired quickly enough in his opinion.

“You think Sirius Black will steal your work?”

“Oh, I know he will. I trust that smug prick as far as I can throw him.” She nods as if to say yeah, you’re pretty weak.

“Then, let’s get to work,” Lily tells him with a determined glint in her eyes and takes out her notebook.

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 3)

Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?

“Narcissus, the figure from an ancient Greek tale,” Professor Smith began, scribbling on the board, “is the origin of the term ‘narcissism.’ This is a word we now associate with a self-centered personality style. This quality in extreme contributes to the definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, a psychiatric condition marked by the trademark qualities of grandiosity, excessive need for attention and admiration, and an inability to empathize with others.”

Your gaze fluttered to the board. Quickly, you typed out the title: Topic; Day one of the lecture series ‘Senses of Disorder in the Modern Self.’  You jotted your notes in single-streamed thoughts, highlighting subjects, then tacking on more details as they came. Narcissus… Greek myth, personality disorder, grandiosity, need for attention, lack of empathy.

“His story and the motifs found within were fitted to the preoccupations of the subject, subjectivity, and intersubjectivity, and these are all within the realm of psychoanalytic theory.”

The professor switched topics and lines of thought too quickly, and even though  you smashed the keys on your laptop as fast as your fingers would allow, you were left with unfinished bullet points. Finally giving up, y leouaned back and allowed yourself to stretch, slowly moving your wrists in circles. It seemed like your classmates shared the same sentiment; some scribbled furiously while others typed away. You decided to give up and conduct research to supplement the parts of the lecture you missed.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard; spying Cillian’s utter lack of preparation gnawed at your focus. He hadn’t even bothered to bring a journal, much less, even to appear focused, occasionally jotting strings of thought on a crumpled sheet of loose leaf paper. His eyes remained fixated on his phone, thumb swiping up and down with a languid grace that somehow irked you.

As his pencil dragged across the page,  you peered over at his notes, startled to discover a few scrawled lines. Half of them were dedicated to meal planning while the other was pretentious strings of thought to caption his posts. You weren’t too upset with the latter. With the task often falling into your consideration, you wished you could have applied it to a resume; helping Cillian run his social pages was nearly a separate job itself.

But how did he expect to pass the upcoming final exam when he had hardly anything related to the class written down? Only his outfit was exemplary, but even then, there was room for improvement; he wore a singular earring, and he donned a chunky, ugly sweatband, exposing his angular forehead and sharp eyes, and to top it all off, he sported a jean jacket with a design of half-melted smiley faces, though it looked more like they were grimacing. The compilation almost looked ridiculous, but a face like his was the ultimate saving grace.

He kept glacing at his reflection. Didn’t he have better things to worry about? He was rich, but to dedicate such a vital time to looking good was a travesty. You wondered if his parents were proud of the son they raised.

You shook your head to dispel the thought. You let out a soft sigh, almost imperceptible amidst the lecturer’s steady drone, and resolved to quell the tide of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm you. Your fingers drummed on the desk, gaze flickering between the professor’s slides and the clock at the front of the lecture hall. Your mind, however, was soon sent into tumult.

“So, how was your date with Rian?” Cillian abruptly asked, still refusing to look up from his doodlest.

“Date?” Your voice hitched, the word snagging in your throat like a fishbone. “How did you— Well, it wasn’t a—”

“Thanks to a street photographer and Rian’s Instagram, everyone gets to see you two cozying up,” Cillian cut you off, his tone deceptively light.

His smartphone lay between you, its screen glowing with the evidence—a photo of you and Rian, sitting at the window, laughing together, shared by some account you didn’t know. You tried committing the username to memory, but when he noticed you staring a little too long, Cillian snatched it back.

“We were just grabbing a drink, and I was too buzzed to answer any calls. You know I would never purposefully ignore you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re slipping away?” His words were soft but pointed, like a dagger wrapped in velvet. He leaned closer, and the scent of his cologne enveloped you, a mixture of citrus and something smoky. “Why don’t I feel like I’m your most valuable friend anymore?”

“You are,” you stammered, your hands now clutching at the fabric of your skirt. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourrself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t look at my phone the entire night. I didn’t mean to make you think—”

His voice was even as his eyes bore into yours, seeking something far beyond your gaze. “It’s fine. Just remember to call me back next time.”

You nodded, an unvoiced apology hanging in the air. You glanced back at the lecture, where neural patterns danced on the screen, mocking you with their clarity. If only understanding your tangled emotions and Cillian’s cryptic intentions were as simple as memorizing textbook definitions.

You tried to refocus on the lecture, the hum of voices and the professor's monotonous drone becoming a distant echo as Cillian's leg brushed against yours under the table. You shifted in your seat, pulling away slightly, only to feel his warmth follow.

“I will. You’re my friend, after all.” You managed to say. You could feel every eye in the room, or so it seemed, even if they were all fixated on their own notes, their own worlds.

“Friends?” Cillian echoed, tilting his head. “Is that all we are? What makes you like Rian better than me?”

“Cillian, you know that’s not the case,” you hastened, your lips dry. “You’re my closest friend. You’re the most important person in this world. Like I’ve said, last night was just… it was nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious.” He repeated the phrase slowly, tasting each syllable as if it were a delicacy laced with poison. “Then why did I find out from pictures online? Why did it have to be a secret?”

“It wasn’t a secret. It was just an impromptu meet-up. Trust me on this.”

“Trust is a luxury,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And I’m afraid to say I’m not afforded much of it by you these days.”

“Look, I’ve already said sorry. What more do you want?” You sighed, your patience fraying at the edges. “If you’re really that upset, I’ll make it up to you, okay? It really isn’t worth arguing over.”

“I like the sound of that.” Cillian mused, leaning back in his seat, seemingly satisfied. You turned, finding him ruffling his hair with an air of nonchalance. “But I want you to enjoy it too, and you look like you could use some retail therapy.”

“Shopping? I don't know…”

“Is it about last night? Did that guy bum off of you? You don’t have to worry about costs with me. I’ll pay. You can make it up to me this way, and you’ll get something nice, too. It’s a win-win.”

You weighed the pros of placating him against the cons of further indebting yourself to him. Although you had the same humble beginnings, Cillian had long since joined a world you could only imagine belonging to. The longer you entertained him, the more he seemed to thrive on appearances, on being seen with someone willing to play the part he assigned them.

Fortunately, you played your role well and reaped the rewards.

“Fine,” you finally breathed out, the acquiescence tasting of sour grapes. “But not today, and just for a little while. I really need to focus on this lecture.”

As if the universe was conspiring against y,ou the professor exclaimed, “And that’s all for today. Any questions?” he said, scanning the room for any raised hands. “No? Well, that’s all, then. You’ve got ten minutes left if you want to stay in this class, but I’ll get going now. I’ll post the slides by tonight.”

Shamelessly, you grabbed Cillian’s hand, stopping him from closing his notebook. You pulled back, releasing him when a slight red tint came to his face. His dangling earring occupied your thoughts for a brief second. Chrome against porcelain, topped by his dark locks. The paleness suited him, although it caused his features to meld together, almost like he wore a flawless mask.

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you caught anything I missed.”

Gaze fluttering up from his phone, he breezily said, “Do you need help? I booked a study room in the library, but if you’d like, we can go to my place.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just wait for the professor to post the slides.” You turned until he was invisible in your peripheral vision. Nevertheless, you felt his gaze trained to you as you shoved your laptop into your backpack. “Where are you going to be during your free hour?”

When your shame deemed that you had punished yourself enough, you was able to face him once more. Turning around, you saw the sunlight playing off his form. His face seemed to illuminate like a lightbulb against the chalkboard’s dreary background. Just over his head on the board, Professor Li’s messy handwriting read ‘Narcissistic Personality Disorder.’ Your gaze quickly returned to admiring his face.

“I’ll be at the bio building if you need me,” Cillian replied, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I just have to turn in this paper and then I’m done for the day. Want to come with me?”

He smiled at you, and suddenly, your spirits brightened. You returned that brilliant grin, losing a few kilowatts in transmission when your phone pinged.

‘Need ur help. Too bright. - Rian.’

Quickly cramping the device into your bag, you laughed. “Sorry, something just came up. I’ll meet up with you at our regular place instead.”

Cillian’s smile faltered slightly. “You’re not coming with me? Did you already make plans with someone else?”

You didn’t want to outright say such, so you skirted around a direct answer.

“It might take some time, but I’ll be there with you,” you assured him. Knowing the promise wasn't enough, you tacked on more words that would soothe his mind, stating, “Who else would I be with? You know I don’t have that many friends.”

That he knew of. There was benefits to walking on the chasm’s edge; you treated Cillian as your own secret world, a portal to an otherwise unobtainable, glamorous realm. With Rian and his group, you were fortunate enough to experience what life might be like if you were regular, and in Cillian’s presence, you got a taste of the life of an overworked talent agent, passing excess through your hands like a sieve onto his pampered lamp. But you were fine with the day-and-night difference; your relationships were unique. With Rian and Connor, even. People were people, and people had different personalities, thoughts, aspirations, goals, and fears, so it wasn’t wrong to cleave yourself into parts, to send each into different orbits.

“Okay,” Cillian finally conceded. “Don’t take too long. I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“No, let me,” you quickly interjected, prepared to atone.

Cillian winked, his smile retreating to its fullest potential. “No. Let me take care of you.”

Before you objected, your phone pinged again.

“I’m sorry! I’ll meet with you later!” you blurted before he could object and trap you in a web of guilt. With a swift turn on your heel, you darted away, leaving the classroom and its muffled sounds of a lesson continuing without you. Your glasses threatened to slide off your nose as you hurried through the crowded hallways, your form a blur against the sea of students, then out the doors. Legs pumping, you raced across the yard, toward the library.

You pushed through the heavy doors and into the hushed ambiance, immediately searching for Rian. There, nestled between the looming bookshelves in a secluded corner, was his delicate frame, hunched and quivering.

“Rian?” You whispered.

He looked up, his eyes awash with despair, tears tracing clean lines down his cheeks. “Y/N,” he slurred, recognition flickering weakly behind the glassiness of his gaze.

“Rian.” You knelt beside him, suppressing the heat of rage bubbling within you at the sight. Fighting the instinct to lash out at the circumstances that had driven him to this state, you steadied your breath and reached out a tentative hand. He looked up at you, eyes glimmering with tears, a strained smile stretching across his lips. Instead of going for an embrace, you reached for his water bottle, which reeked of alcohol. You fought him, but eventually managed to wrestle it from his grasp and confiscate it.

“Sorry, Rian. I’m not giving this back to you.”

“But I’m done for the rest of the day. This is my precious springtime of youth. Let me live a little!”

“Look, drunkards are normal to encounter in the streets, but not on campus. You’re doing something so reckless, and in broad daylight, and you could still get expelled if anyone sees you. And if that happens, your grandparents are going to hit you so hard that you’ll spend your precious springtime of youth in a coma until the winter of your final years. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Rian remained silent. You were sure he was going to glare and curse you out, but then, he tilted his head until it rested on your shoulder. Voice quivering, he confessed, “My girlfriend broke up with me and I… I guess I… I mean I—”

“Rian,” you said, softly this time. “Come on. We both know a girl can’t affect you that much. What is this really about?”

“You’re right.” He lifted his head up and leaned against the wall instead. “It isn’t just the alcohol messing with my mind. It’s just that… That everyone… They all leave me,” he mumbled through a choked sob. “Everyone. My parents, Eve, my grandparents will follow soon, and how long until you’re gone too? How long until everyone thinks I’m a burden?” His voice cracked, and before you offered a comforting word, he burst into body-wracking sobs.

“I’m not going anywhere. I won’t ever leave you alone,” you assured, placing an arm around his shoulders. Tremors coursed through his body. Your phone buzzed insistently in your pocket, but you ignored it. Rian needed you more than you needed to appease anyone’s vanity or paranoia. Swallowing the bile of your own anxiety, you held him close. “You don’t have to believe me yet because I haven’t shown you, but I’ll keep proving it until you believe me. But for now,” you murmured, helping him to his feet, “let’s get you out of here. And how about some food? It’d do you good.”

Rian placed another hand on top of yours, though his eyes were still transfixed on the wall. Reluctantly, you pulled away, shaking off his grip in favor of unlocking your phone. Immediately, you saw that you had ten messages, split between your built-in app and Instagram account. Ignoring an incoming call and another text, you told Rian, “Forget about Eve, okay?”

“Eve? Who is that?” He laughed, shoulders shaking with each chuckle. The tears on his face hadn’t stopped pouring down. “Eve who? Like Christmas Eve? More like Christmas Evil. Fucking love that song. Thought Christmas albums were kitsch, but it slaps.”

“On second thought,” y ousighed, taking in his sorry condition, “how about I take you back to your dorm?” 

“Will you carry me?”

“Rian, no!” You were powerless as he trapped you in a hug. His arms draped over your shoulders, but his balance was compromised, and he loaded his body weight onto your back. He was hardly a few centimeters taller than you, but he went almost entirely slack, draping his frame atop yours. Struggling to remain upright, you sent a quick text to his roommate, attaching your location. He responded fairly fast, informing you that he was already near them and would be scarfing down his lunch to head over.

His head bobbed, his wavy hair brushing against his forehead. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just didn’t know what else to do. The world feels like it’s falling out from under me.”

“Come on, get up.” Standing, you slipped an arm under his, trying to coax him to his feet. “You can’t stay here like this, and we’re already a spectacle.”

Rian’s body felt limp, but he allowed himself to be partially lifted by your insistent pull. As he staggered to his feet, you glanced around, acutely aware of the curious glances from other students. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment—not for yourself, but for Rian.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Always,” you said, ignoring your still-buzzing device. For now, your friend’s well-being was y our sole focus. “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”

Compliant now, you guided him outside. Embracing the sunlight, y you disregarded the stone pathway. You stepped onto the lush green yard and squinted, stumbling towards a bench secluded by a grove of whispering trees.

As you sat, you pulled out your phone. Your fingers hesitated over the contact list. As much as you wanted to solve every problem yourself, this was beyond you. With a deep breath, you dialed Connor’s number.

“Hey, Conner. I’m on campus with Rian, and he’s—well, he’s plastered and not doing great. I can wait with him for a while, but I have somewhere to be. Can you come get him? Or I can meet you halfway.”

Your words were direct, bypassing the niceties that often cluttered conversations.

“What is that idiot up to now?” came his humorous response. “Of course. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, ending the call and slipping the phone back into your pocket. You turned to Rian and reassured, “Good news. Your roommate will be here shortly.”

He nodded, and you sat in silence, the hushed sounds of nature wrapping around you like a soft blanket. In the distance, the faint hum of traffic whispered.

But for now, in this secluded haven, time seemed to slow, allowing you to fulfill your role as comforter, as protector of your friend’s fragile spirit. As you waited for Connor's arrival, your mind couldn't help but wander to Cillian and the plans you had made. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside. Here, with Rian’s head resting on your shoulder, you found your purpose.

“I can’t believe you really risked it all.” You forked your fingers into his hair, smoothing out the knots. “All for some girl?”

You reached to grasp his hand. You offered no grand gestures, only the steady rhythm of your palm tracing small circles. Your words, when they came, were soft-spoken, weaving through the silence like threads of silk.

“Rian,” you murmured, “heartache, it seeps into us, but it doesn’t define us. You’re more than this pain, more than what you’ve lost. Your kindness,” you continued, feeling his fingers squeeze around yours, “it lights up rooms. Someone will see that and cherish you. This isn't the end. It’s just a really tough part of your life. It’ll get better, and if it doesn’t, I’ll hunt the bitch down and break her knees."

The silence lasted only a moment, then Rian burst into tears. Sighing, you kept stroking his hair, rubbing his back, and murmuring sweet cheer-me-ups.

Approaching from behind, a pair of arms wrapped around you, pinning you and Rian against the bench. Glancing up, you greeted Connor, who trapped you in his embrace until Rian’s tears finally ceased their stream, his body settling into quiet hiccups.

Pulling away, Connor regarded you with a thankful look. “Thanks for keeping him out of trouble. You can go. I’ll take care of him from here,” he urged, voice close to your ear. If it wasn’t for how Rian was trying to curl into a ball and pass out on the bench, you would have blushed.

“I cannot thank you enough. Really.”

“Anything for a friend,” he replied with his easy smile, but you were already rushing away.

“Really, I owe you one!” you called over your shoulder, your voice nearly lost amidst the chatter of students and rustling leaves.

“Then tutor me in biology!”

Shouting a reluctant agreement, you sped away, your mind whirling as fast as your legs. You wondered if it was right to leave Rian in the hands of someone else, but a person like him was suited for anyone. Well-liked by almost everyone, he was a sweet boy known for coming to class with a smile, and for not being very smart but still trying his best to contribute to class discussions.

He wasn’t alone, but Cillian? It pained you to see how he kept an arm’s distance from anyone he wasn’t already acquainted with. It was funny how in spite of witnessing Rian’s tears, your mind was still focused on that vain man. Perhaps it was because you knew that although his initial reactions were always overly-zealous, Rian would eventually stomach the heartache while Cillian could not. You had personally witnessed the depth of hurt that he could, or rather could not handle. His threshold for pain of any kind was rather shallow.

The incessant pinging of the phone in your bag only served to remind you who needed you more. Although you had been sitting with Rian and trying to coax him out of his depressed state for nearly half of an hour, the messages had never stopped pouring in. With a sigh, you realized you couldn't ignore him much longer.

You spotted him before he saw you, sitting outside a cafe, staring at his phone. His hair caught the light, a raven’s wing glinting with shades of indigo. As you approached, his head snapped up, eyes locking onto your with an intensity that made you falter.

“What took you so long?” He asked lips curved downwards. He ruffled his hair, an agitated sigh escaping his lungs. “I was waiting for you.”

You grappled with the familiar weight of guilt, the dreaded sensation of having let someone down. “Sorry. I’ll explain when we’re inside,” you said prompting, eager to escape the prying eyes of passersby.

“Lead the way,” Cillian said, stepping aside with a flourish that bordered on mockery. He followed you in silence, the tension unspoken but palpable, like the static charge before a storm.

As you passed through the doorway, the cafe enveloped them in warmth and the murmur of conversation. Cillian took the seat next to you, boxing you against the window. With his elbows resting on the table, your hands found refuge in the pockets of your ill-fitting cardigan, mind racing with ways to mend the rift, even as your heart whispered warnings you weren’t ready to heed.

Retrieving a menu tucked beneath the napkin dispenser, you fidgeted with the laminated edges, stealing glances at Cillian. His presence was like a cloud, darkening the cozy ambiance of the cafe. You cleared your throat, summoning the courage to bridge the chasm his displeasure had created.

“Cillian, about why I was late…” you began, “I’m really sorry. I was dealing with a crisis. Rian was out there day drinking. Poor boy’s upset and having a rough time.” You scooted your chair closer to him. He looked at your from the corner of his eye before moving to rest his arm on the back of your chair.

“Him again?” Cillian’s tone was sharp, slicing through your words. “The guy’s a walking disaster. I don’t see why you have to play the hero every time something hurts his little heart. Maybe it should just be carved out and given to someone who’ll take better care of it.”

You recoiled, the sting of his words biting. You searched his face for some sign of understanding but found none. His features were set in stone, handsome yet impassive, his eyes reflecting the screen glow from his phone rather than any warmth towards your predicament.

“I couldn’t just leave him there,” you said, your own eyes darting away from his scrutiny to focus on a coffee stain on the table. “He needed a friend.”

“Seems like he wants to ask for more than that from you,” Cillian retorted, scrolling through his messages. “But clearly, you value your little charity missions with clingy bastards who’re only trying to get into your skirt more than the plans you’ve made with the friend who’s only trying to treat you to a snack while you study.” Huffing, he turned away. “What was he bothered by this time?”

“Rian isn’t like that,” you objected. “He was only acting out because his girlfriend broke up with him. Of course, he’d be upset. Most would.”

Cillian scoffed, earning a glare from you. Even though he had issues too, he didn't need to lash out and be rude to others. They were peers. They both knew what that sort of heartbreak was like. Cillian should’ve supported him instead of arguing over who had it worse.

Crossing his leg, he clicked his tongue. “You should have at least told me where you were. I was waiting for thirty minutes.”

Pushing your irritation aside, you inhaled. Friendships differed from person to person, so you had to understand why Cillian was feeling the way he did, and where that feeling was coming from. He had been there for you during your times of need, so you had to return the favor, no matter how late.

“I’ll tell you next time,” you mindlessly offered, eyes bright with a forced cheerfulness you hoped would placate him. “I know you said you want to go shopping soon, but let me do something for you. We can go anywhere. Your choice.”

“Anywhere?” he echoed, the corner of his mouth twitching into something resembling amusement. It was a small victory, but it eased the knot in your chest.

“Anywhere. I promise. Just let me make it right.”

Make what right? You didn’t know how you’d wronged him, but you didn’t want to be the cause of his suffering.

“Promise, then. Promise to me.”

“I promise.”

“Say it properly,” he prodded, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“I swear to you, Cillian,” you said, the formal phrasing feeling strange on your tongue. “I’ll stop being a bad friend and make it up to you.”

“Good.” His tight-lipped frown dissolved into something warm and disarming, as if the past few minutes had never happened. “Shall we order, then? I’m starving.”

[kujousgf]

I. THE PROPHECY. mdni. 18+. series masterlist

pairings: wanda maximoff + mutant!reader

summary: wanda finds out about the prophecy and the two of you meet

warnings: none

wc: 2.8k~

< prologue | next part >

The last thing Wanda expected during her Sunday afternoon downtime was to be called into an emergency meeting. She had made it very clear that if she were to join the Avengers, she needed a few days to herself, to just be Wanda and not the Scarlet Witch, and Sunday was one of them. So, to say she was surprised when Tony called over the intercom that they needed her in the war room would be an understatement.

“This had better be good, Stark. I just put some pasta on the stove, and if it boils over because of this–” Wanda pauses, brows furrowed as she steps into the room– “Agatha. I wasn’t expecting to see you today. What’s… going on?” She asks slowly, looking around and seeing that everyone is already gathered around the table. As she steps closer, she realizes that they’re looking at a photo on the desk. Specifically, she realizes they are looking at a photograph of the Darkhold. “What is that doing here?” She knows she shouldn’t be so harsh, that the Darkhold isn’t actually anywhere near her, but she can’t help it.

“Wanda, dear, don’t be like that. Come sit down.” Agatha ignores her question and pulls out a chair for her to sit in. Wanda takes a deep breath and softens considerably. Agatha has been like a mother figure to her since she’d been rescued from that small Transian town near the mountains of Wundagore, and she tells herself that there’s no need to be upset with her, that Agatha must have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. She starts to walk closer as she reminds herself that everything is fine, “I would prefer to stand.” She crosses her arms over her chest and peers down at the photo.

Agatha gives her a knowing glance and sighs, “Alright, dear, if you’re sure.” She knows how Wanda must be feeling right now, she knows that she would have recognized the book from the photograph, and she hopes that this isn’t dragging up any unsavory memories for the younger witch. “Recently, there has been a change in the earth’s ley lines. I have been monitoring it for a few days now trying to uncover the source and unfortunately, it’s much worse than I could have thought.” Agatha speaks up, addressing everyone in the room.

“The earth’s ley lines? Magic. There’s been a change in the earth’s magic?” Tony speaks up, gesturing with his hands as he talks. “Can’t you just do some hocus pocus and fix that all up? What’s this meeting for?”

“I wish it were that simple, Tony. That photo on the table is a picture of one of the pages of the Darkhold–” Agatha turns to Wanda now– “Do you know what that says, Wanda?” And Wanda reluctantly looks at the words in the picture instead of staring at it blankly. It’s not in English or Romanian, but for some reason, she feels like she recognizes what it’s saying. “Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” She reaches down and picks up the photograph now that she’s sure that the Darkhold isn’t able to sink its talons into her through it and studies the words: यदा अन्धकारमाता उत्थाय अग्रजदेवं छथोन् आह्वयति तदा आकाशं हरितं भविष्यति, कालस्य अन्तः च समीपं गमिष्यति।.

Her fingers dance over the text and she lets the words sink in even though she could not read them out loud in their original language even if she tried. Her tongue feels heavy as she speaks, “When the Dark Mother rises and calls upon the Elder God Chthon, the skies shall turn green and the end of time draw near,” she swallows harshly. That is not a name she wanted to hear again, “The Lovers, born from the Mother, the Hunter and from Chthon, the Witch, are bound by eternity. Only when the Hunter walks in the Light and the two Lovers join will the apocalypse fall.”

Wanda feels her blood run cold. She was a witch created by Chthon, perhaps the witch created by Chthon, but that is not a reality she wants. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her now that she’s done speaking and she looks up, “No.” She says simply, placing the photograph back on the table. Agatha frowns, “I know you may not like it, but this is not just a fairytale in the Darkhold, Wanda. Lilith has already risen and if we have any hope of stopping her we need you.”

When Wanda stays silent, Agatha continues, “The change in the ley lines that I was sensing is from the dark energy that Lilith radiates. Although she has only been on our plane for a few days, she has been able to manipulate the ley lines completely without even trying. Her strength is something that I fear will only grow if we do not act in time. I have not been able to pinpoint her exact location, but I have at least reached out to the Hunter. I know this is a big favor to ask, but it’s not just Wanda that we need. If we are to fight off Lilith’s army and save this universe, we are going to need the Avengers' help.”

“I am not a character in Chthon’s damned book, I am a person, Agatha!” Wanda snaps. She feels like a teenager acting out against her mother, but when she heard that this Hunter had already been contacted she couldn’t help her little outburst. She has no interest in fulfilling anything that book has to prophesize because prophecy be damned, she is not letting Him tell her who she is anymore. She turns on her heel and walks out of the room before Agatha can get another word in, she doesn’t want to hear it.

“Looks like Vision here’s not your real loverboy!” Tony jokes, “hope this one’s handsome.. And a little less metal!” He calls out to her as he watches her storm out of the room. He has to stifle a laugh when she raises her right hand and gives him the middle finger. Natasha rolls her eyes, “Don’t be an ass, Tony,” before she follows behind the witch.

Wanda hates that how she's been feeling for the past couple of weeks seems to be explained so simply in two sentences of that stupid book. “The Lovers, what a joke,” she mumbles to herself. Things with Vision have never felt exactly right, but she didn't think anything was supposed to feel that way. These past couple of weeks, though, have felt increasingly not right. So maybe she's been avoiding him both at the compound and at the tower… and she's been requesting specifically not to be teamed up with him if it could be helped.

She had been chalking it up to the fact that even though she loves Vision, she just doesn't love him like that and she'd just been happy to know that someone would always be on her side. Tony’s comment struck a nerve. She knows he was only teasing, but he was right. She did want something a little less… metal and a little more human. She just hates to think that her feelings are not her own and that somehow, some way, she'd been influenced by that damned book.

That does not, however, mean that she wants this Hunter person.

She lets out another little huff before walking into her room, slamming the door shut but not locking it. She knew the red headed assassin would be following her and she'd never say no to a little comfort from one of her favorite people.

-

The Avengers compound, not tower, you realize as you drive up the unnecessarily long driveway. It’s been two days since you received the letter from Agatha and perhaps you took a little longer than you needed to get here, but for some reason, you think the witch might have predicted that. You have the stupid envelope in your hand with the picture and the note, slightly crumpled because you might have balled it up and thrown it in an attempt to forget about it.

It clearly didn’t work, though, because here you are. As you step out of the car, a black Ford Bronco you might be a little too proud of for someone who could snap their fingers and create a portal to wherever they wanted to go. The words of the prophecy float around in your mind as you walk towards the compound. The Hunter. That was you, wasn’t it? According to Agatha it was. And if you were the Hunter, then your mother was the Dark Mother and she planned on bringing about the end of the world. What a wonderful family tree so far. You can’t help but think that your actions these past 10 years might have aided in the resurrection of your mother. You shake your head, that is not something you need to think about right now.

Instead, you think about what little you know of your mother. Your mother has always been a mysterious figure in your life. The only experiences you have with her are in your dreams and you don’t really think that counts towards actually knowing your mother. Even if it did, you hadn’t had that type of dream in at least 8 years. You know that she died when you were a child and that no one ever wanted to let her around you or give you the chance to meet her. You have no memories of being with her, you could have been plucked from her arms as soon as you were born for all you know.

You remember hearing hushed conversations between Agatha and… someone else when you were still living with her about how your mother was growing ‘worse’ each day and that the situation was ‘getting more out of control’, but you don’t remember anything specific about what was worse and out of control. You guess this may have been what they feared happening. Everyone always seemed to fear your mother– or you turning into your mother. The teachers at the Xavier school certainly did. Not that it matters much to you, your feelings towards her are practically non-existent. She was absent, how else were you supposed to feel besides nothing?

Before you can get to the door, it’s opening and Agatha is stepping out, “Y/N, dear, I’m glad you got my letter.” She looks exactly the same as when you last saw her, if not a little older, but she certainly does not look like she’s aged 15 years. Your movements stop for just a second before you take a deep breath and continue walking towards her, “Agatha.” You nod in greeting, slipping the envelope into your back pocket and then crossing your arms over your chest. “Would you mind explaining what exactly you expect of me right now?”

“You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you.” She smiles and motions for you to follow her inside. She ignores your question just like she ignored Wanda’s as she begins walking with you in tow. “I assume you’ve read my note and looked at the photograph. Do you know what the book is telling you?” She glances at you and you let your arms fall to your sides before settling your hands in the front pockets of your jeans as you walk. “Yes… no, maybe? I’m not sure,” you’re not sure why you’re talking to Agatha so easily, like all these years haven’t passed, but you think you like the familiarity, “It’s a prophecy of sorts, correct? I got the gist of what it meant, but I don’t even know what language that is let alone what the words actually say. I just… understood somehow.”

Agatha hums and takes a mental note of how similar yours and Wanda’s answers were. You two may not be happy to meet each other, but the universe has always meant for you to be together, and to her this was just another piece of evidence to support that theory. This may go better than she expected. “Yes, dear. Your mother… Lilith, she wasn’t always destined for this path, but the Darkhold got her before I could stop it. I had always feared this day would come, but when she died, I assumed it wouldn’t be something you ever had to worry about. It was foolish of me, I know that now. I should have kept you with me, to prepare you for this if nothing else, and I will always regret that, but now we must face the consequences.”

You stay silent as you let her speak, afraid that if you say something it might be out of anger, something you’ve learned not to let consume you. Instead, you take in the information she’s giving you, trying to understand what exactly is so dire that she contacted you out of the blue like this. And trying not to think about the fact that you wish she had contacted you because she wanted to, not because she had to.

Agatha continues, “This, of course, makes you the Hunter. You are Lilith’s only child and one of the only people that can put a stop to her. I understand that this is a lot to take in, but I really do think that stepping into the Light, even if only for this, will be something you won't regret.”

“As opposed to all the other things I've done and regretted?” You bite back before taking a breath, “don't… answer that. Alright, let's do this, shall we?”

All heads turn towards you as you enter the war room, as Agatha had called it and you let your eyes scan over every person individually, none of them give you the impression of a witch. You wonder where she could be, you assumed she'd just be waiting in here like everyone else seemed to be. “Where is she exactly?” You tilt your head inquisitively and look around.

“Oh, this is rich,” laughs a man who looks to be about 6-feet tall before he presses the button and calls from someone named Wanda. The Witch, you can only assume. ”Tony Stark. Billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist.” He introduces himself, and you give him an apprehensive look before nodding slightly. “Y/N, I'm not any of those.”

“You're the Hunter, though, right? I'm just gonna call you Hunter.” And you only sigh in response, you weren't aware that any of the Avengers were this arrogant… or annoying. As a way to defuse any tension before it's created, the rest of the Avengers begin introducing themselves before Natasha walks into the room. She gives you a slow once over before giving a small nod, “Hm.” and then she's walking over to lean against the wall. She sounds almost impressed. Of what, you have no idea.

It's only a few moments later that Wanda walks into the room and you turn your head to look at her. The Witch. You can sense it, the energy she radiates. The two of you make eye-contact, Wanda frozen in her spot as she sees you, for what seems like an eternity before it's interrupted by the annoying voice of Tony Stark, “turns out your new loverboy isn’t a boy at all, Maximoff! How funny is that?”

Wanda tears her eyes away from you and fights the urge to roll them, “Very funny, Stark.” She crosses her arms over her chest, “you’re the Hunter?” She doesn’t really have to ask, she already knows the answer. As soon as she laid eyes on you, she knew exactly who you were. She could feel it was you, just like you could feel it was her, and suddenly she's reminded exactly why you're here. Not by chance or coincidence, but because of some damned prophecy. She hates that stupid book and its stupid prophecies and she hates that she can tell you’re destined for each other even before you’ve spoken to her.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you take a breath, the Scarlet Witch is not exactly what you were expecting her to be, “yes, but my name is Y/N in case you’d like to use it,” you give a side glance to Tony as you say your name, but he just makes a face. Perfect, it seems that name is never going to leave you.

Wanda was… breathtaking. If this were any other situation, you’re sure you would have made the decision to court her regardless of any consequences. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, you’re not sure whether that feeling is because it’s something you truly feel or because some strange book told you to. You were called the Lovers, after all. Still, you can’t deny how beautiful Wanda is.

“Alright, Y/N. I’m Wanda,” she knows that you know already, but it felt awkward not to introduce herself as well. She takes a second to ask her next question, because it’s not something she wants to talk about at all, really, “I suppose you know about the prophecy?”

[theshslpumpkinghost]

Rose Ch2 Culprit Theory!!

(Spoilers for Ch2 Ep12! (and literally every episode before that too)

(i know it probably isn’t her, but i wanted to post my theory regardless! Also, this is unfinished, I just wanted to post it before Ep13 comes out- I’m so sorry to anyone who reads through my stupid little rambles-)

(reminder that all of this is silly stuff my brain thought of while i was sleep deprived after ep12 so- none of this is probably relevant-)

I was looking at DRDT culprit theories for Ch2 and randomly though what if it's Rose-? 'Cause after they found the body, Rose was right outside the room, in the hallway- She was the one who found evidence that nobody else would have found, since it was hidden in the trash can, and more than that, it was evidence that specifically framed someone else. She mentions not wanting to see the body, so she's unable to help with the crime scene, unlike in ch1, where she helps by using her photographic memory to draw a picture of the crime scene before it got disturbed.

But WHAT IF the reason she doesn't want to go in is because she doesn't want to end up accidentally revealing herself as the killer- Like- First off the BDA thing, where 3 people who hadn't seen the murder needed to set it off- This isn't actual evidence, really, but i thought i could mention it- uh- Anyways! Another way she might reveal herself as the killer is being too- useful- Like, how Min volunteered to help Teruko investigate in Ch1, but it was actually just to make sure Teruko didn't figure out it was her. So- Rose could've made a fair assumption that Teruko or someone else could be suspicious- And so she used the excuse of not wanting to see the body as a way to get out of it.

The reason she might want to escape is because of her family- Who she put into debt and also got them out of it- So she obviously cares about them, ergo, motive for murder. (maybe she was reminded of this when Teruko told her the secret she got-? idk lol)

Plus, she mentions the grippy tape in the gym, and how she used it to be able to do a pullup- So she could've used it to get a better grip on the spinny thing during the murder. (I know it’s probably just a way for the tape to be introduced before the murder) She could've taken it from the gym whenever, and since she's the one who mentioned it was missing- Could be to get rid of suspicion. although she wasn't there when the tape disappeared from the gym, you can't rule out that she might have an accomplice- Or she could be the accomplice, either or-

Also, I've seen a lot of culprit Eden with accomplice Levi, but what about culprit *Rose* with accomplice Levi- Just a thought I had.

Rose culprit with Levi accomplice theorists wya

Another thing is the fact that she hides her face when talking to Teruko in the hallway after Arei's body is found- which means we can't see her expression. And since her voice is usually monotone, even when talking about stuff she cares for, we can't get any clues about her emotions from that either-

She's also the first one to mention that the evidence from the murder is probably hidden on the second floor, since it would be difficult to make elevator trips without people noticing it- This isn't *too* suspicious, but also, it could be. Because sometimes Danganronpa is so fucking sneaky and hides stuff in obvious places-

None of this is really concrete evidence it's her, even though she *does* try and push everyone back to assuming the murder happened at night, rather than in the morning like Teruko proved it did, during episode 12- And in Ch2 in general, Rose has been- kind of derailing the trial a bit. Not too noticeably, but a few things-

1- She *did* agree with Ace somewhat when he brought up Nico being the killer. Which is understandable, considering that they *did* lie and steal from her- But it could also be evidence of her trying to blame someone else for it without being overly suspicious.

2- She spends some time in Ch2 Ep9 trying to convince people that Arei committed suicide and not murder. Maybe a normal assumption, but given that they're in a murder trial, talking about a murder, and Veronika had already mentioned that Arei wouldn't have been able to snap her neck by jumping from the swingset- Plus the rule that if it *was* suicide, MonoTV wouldn't hold a trial. And since Rose has a photographic memory, she should've remembered that, right? She even mentions this- in the trial- She then brings up the possibility of assisted suicide, instead of continuing with the murder assumption like everybody else- Rose could've helped Arei kill herself, but this isn't a theory about that, it's about her being a murderer so-

Also, she hasn't fallen asleep once in T2 yet. Which is- strange considering she did in T1. And plus the fact that she possibly uses sleeping as a form of escapism. Maybe because she needs to contribute more to this trial for it to work, but it's still suspicious- I might just be reading too much into it idk- Maybe the reason she isn't sleeping this trial because she doesn't have anything to specifically try and escape right now. Unlike T1, Rose supposedly didn't see Arei's body, so she wouldn't be trying to forget it by sleeping through the trial.. But that's also not really evidence, mostly just guesses-

(Another thing- When the fish in the playground are brought up, she seems like she's going to say something- But then J interrupts and Rose just stops talking. Probably doesn't mean anything but I'm putting every Rose trial scene in here- )

She also doesn't have a reaction to the note being brought up, but she joins in after Teruko asks to see the note for the second time. She mentions how she and Whit figured Teruko wouldn't mind as much if Eden was the one who had the note- probably so Teruko could easily check if Eden was lying.

Rose doesn't talk for a while after that, but almost at the end of episode 10 she mentions that she doesn't have an alibi. Of course, this doesn't mean much, considering what happened in episode 12 where they find out that they got the whole time of the murder wrong- Which leaves almost nobody with an alibi. But I had to mention it so-

After that, she doesn't speak up again until Ace is mentioned as a suspect, and then she only mentions that Ace being on the second floor is suspicious. Which, again, normal assumption, but just let me have this- And after that, she brings up David's 'secret' of family depression not being on the board- Which starts David's whole Nagito arc that apparently lasted 2 hours-

Okay! Now on to episodes 11 + 12! Rose doesn't show up at the beginning part but she does show up when the others are talking about David's real secret. She mentions that no actual good came out of David pushing them to share their secrets- And then after that her only line immediately after David's reveal was just her talking about her memory again- And then after David and Hu's whole.. conversation, Rose mentions how David is 'Definitely the killer.' Which is, well, what everybody else assumed, too- I just think it's interesting how Rose only shows up in this trial when somebody else is being blamed.

After David's whole 'I killed Arei, blah blah blah' moment, Rose speaks up and says they should just vote now. Levi agrees, and he actually almost tells MonoTV to start the voting time. She's really pushing for just whoever seems the most suspicious at the moment- I mean, plenty of characters have done it, but it's still really interesting to me. Mostly because if Teruko hadn't stopped them, everyone would literally be dead. David's plan would've worked-

Okay! Now Ep12-

Rose doesn’t show up for a lot of it- again- But her first appearance in this ep was when Teruko realised her mistake. All she does is say that it was kind of a big mistake and that’s it. Nothing else about it from Rose. She doesn’t speak up during Arturo’s rant either. Rose is shown when Charles asks if anyone has any counterpoints against Arei being killed at 7:30AM, but she doesn’t say anything.

And then they go back to alibis, and like before, Rose still doesn’t have one. She never has one, because she’s always asleep- But that’s not evidence, really, because nobody (besides 3 people) even have an alibi for this-

She doesn’t show up during David’s monologue either, but then nobody really shows up during that besides J, David, Hu, and Teruko, so-

She comments on how scary Hu is after she interrupts David, but Rose still hasn’t contributed much in this ep- Although it was more focused on David and Xander, so that makes sense. When they talk about alibis again, Rose still doesn’t have one. Which isn’t surprising. After that, but before Levi derails the trial, Rose speaks up and mentions not having any clues and not knowing where to go from here-

But that’s all for this theory so far! uh.. I’ll probably finish it at some point- but i wanted to get it out before ep13 so- I’m so sorry to anyone who reads through this absolute rambling bullshit-

[onlymurdersintheafterparty]

OMITB S4:E3 ‘Two for the Road’

This episode was interesting and raised even more questions. While we start off and end the episode with the trio, in most of the episode we watch them branch off with their respective actors and have their own mini adventures. I thought it was a great idea to give us a better idea of who Zach, Eugene, and Eva are in this universe and to delve more into the main characters’ personalities apart from each other. There were several bombshells dropped so as always spoilers are behind the cut.

At the beginning of the episode, we find out from Detective Williams that the FBI has taken over meaning she won’t be on the case. That doesn’t stop her from giving them what information she does have as well as breaking the fourth wall in reference to the three previous seasons which was hilarious. We also learn that she’s a fan of Zach Galifianakis when she discovers the actors are also in the apartment and threatens Oliver not to let him get hurt and implies he’s her hall pass 🤭 Honestly same bc the man is not only hilarious but handsome as well. Shortly after she leaves is when everyone branches off so I’m going to break up each segment based off the duo.

Oliver and Zach don’t do any intentional sleuthing this episode. Oliver is fed up with Zach’s indifference and lack of desire to connect so he lies saying they need to monitor the ham radio and whisks him off to his apartment. I know Oliver is a mess but I really don’t like the way that Zach treats him like a loser. At some point they appear to bond as Oliver teaches Zach how to snort, grunt, and dress like him which seems to have gone well until Zach is overheard saying otherwise. Howard tries his best to stand up for Oliver in that passive aggressive way and we know he means well but it ultimately does nothing to change Zach’s impression. I agree on one thing though: Oliver’s resilience and choosing to wake up happy every day despite the chaos is admirable. That’s what life is about because every day is a chance to change your fate.

Charles and Eugene’s dynamic was different. Are they buddies? No but they both have the same goal in mind which is to get Vince to take off his eyepatch to see if he’s hiding damage from the gun recoiling. These two clearly share one brain cell because every attempt failed. First they come up with a story about Charles having a cousin who is an eye doctor with magic eye drops that they swear will work wonders. Instead of taking off his eyepatch then and there, Vince instead goes into the privacy of his bathroom. Take two goes even worse because Eugene’s idea of doing a spit take to get the eyepatch off leads to him getting punched in the face by Vince after he spits water on him. It does lead to a clue though. When they all hug it out, Eugene notices a photograph and signals for Charles to view it. It’s all the Westies and a figure with their face scribbled out. What in the world is going on here? Is Dudenoff Moriarty? Is Dudenoff not even involved and someone else just utilized his apartment as originally suspected? I’m so confused.

Mabel and Eva were giving frenemies. No actual hate, just two people forced together with nothing in common. Though her methods were unconventional and unhinged, Eva did manage to get a lot of info for Mabel.

The gun on the mantle is a movie prop that shoots nerf gun like ammo

Christmas Guy HATES Christmas; now this had me shook ngl; this man is a fitness influencer who has been typecast into a Christmas role and is basically held hostage by his decor 😭

The tinsel is not tinsel!

A few days ago I made a post about a theory regarding the killer(s) and whether or not they were in attendance at the party in the S3 finale and @bbeeebbo brought up a really good point about the tinsel being a red herring for Christmas Guy and that it very well could have been from the party. While we have yet to confirm if it was from the party, we now have confirmation that it’s actually not tinsel at all!

The sleuthing with the two ends shortly after this reveal and we see Mabel get the idea to look up squatter’s rights and temporarily move into the Dudenoff apartment. When they all reunite at the end for Mabel’s housewarming party, they put their clues together and realize that 445 is a radio frequency. Earlier when Mabel and Eva were sleuthing they discovered a ham radio in the Christmas apartment as well so clearly the Westies have some secret communication going on. When Mabel turns on the radio to the right frequency, a woman responds and tells them to stop snooping because the last person that did so is dead (Sazz). She also was in a hurry to disconnect giving the impression she’s on the run. Is she the mysterious Dudenoff or a tenant we have yet to meet? I’m so confused!

Final Thoughts

I feel like the writers have caught on to how smart the redditors are because a lot of theories were confirmed or debunked this episode. Someone theorized Mabel might end up squatting in the Dudenoff apartment which she does at the end of the episode and another theorized that Vince’s eyepatch was to cover a bruise from the gun’s recoil which is false (he actually does have pink eye and it’s gnarly 🤢). I’m bracing myself for the moment in the season finale where everything was obvious af and I was just overthinking everything 😂 What do you guys think so far now that we’re 3 episodes into the season?

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Cruel Summer (Superstar Chapter 7)

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

New faces at Nelson Road cause quite a stir.

Roy Kent x Reader

7.5k words

Warnings: Language, angst, drinking, Roy flirting hard, my heart breaking if you listen closely

Thank you so much for all the love! This chapter was probably the hardest for me to write so far, so I hope you enjoy- even if it hurts!

~

Bzzz!

My phone vibrated in my hand as I sat in Rebecca’s office. It was packed: Rebecca, Ted, Beard, Keeley, Higgins, Roy, me. We were a tense party as we waited for word that Dario Vargas had arrived at the Dog Track, staring at our phones in anticipation. All eyes turned to me the moment my phone went off, wondering if this was the signal.

Looking fucking fit in that skirt. Think anyone would notice if I dragged you into the boot room later so I could show you how much I like it?

Heat flooded my face. “Just my Mum. Wants to wish us luck with the big announcement today,” I lied. My eyes flickered across the office to Roy, who stood in the far corner of the office, hands in his pockets as he gazed at the ceiling, acting as if he hadn’t just made me blush through a text message. With the amount of time I’d spent looking at his face over the past few months, it was easy for me to spy the tiniest smirk hiding under his bored expression.

It was nice that Roy noticed the difference in my appearance, though. Usually, I wore jeans and a sweater to the office, often Richmond ones, especially on match days. Today called for something a bit different though; it was press conference day. We all knew that meant to look camera-ready, even if we weren’t the ones behind the microphones. For me, that meant a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels. And apparently Roy didn’t mind the change of wardrobe one bit.

Leaning back so Ted, who sat on the couch beside me drumming out a beat on his thigh, couldn’t see my screen, I switched my phone to silent and quickly typed a response.

Honestly? Once Vargas is in the building I doubt anyone would notice if we went at it in the middle of the changing room.

I eyed Roy discreetly as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it. His jaw twitched as his thumbs flew across the screen.

Thanks for the new fantasy.

My face burned. This man is going to be the death of me.

Before I could figure out some clever response, Rebecca let out a sound, a loud, high-pitched mix between a laugh and a gasp. We all turned to look at her.

“He’s here,” was all she said.

Everyone stood and filed out of the office; Rebecca and Ted to the parking lot, the rest of us to the changing room, where the team would be waiting.

“Down, boy,” I whispered to Roy as he walked just a smidge too close, letting his hand softly graze my skirt. In response, he smirked and nudged me playfully, but returned to a respectable distance.

Unlike Rebecca’s office, the air in the changing room was filled with a tense excitement as the guys chattered amongst themselves. They all waved and called hellos to us as we entered, their expressions contrasting ours. Of course, it was different for them than for us; they were excited, even thrilled to have a new teammate to help the team succeed and push them to be better versions of themselves. For the rest of the staff, there was a shared sense of anxiety. Would this player be that “thing” Richmond needed to win? Would he mesh well with the guys? Would he be easy to get along with, or a prima donna even worse than Jamie used to be?

“-and here is the changing room,” Rebecca was saying as she held open the door.

Everyone straightened up as Dario Vargas entered, followed by a small entourage made up of Ted and a photographer. He was exactly the way I remembered him looking in the magazine: light brown hair just past his ears, blue eyes, clean-shaven, and a megawatt smile. If he was as exceptional on the field as he was to look at, Richmond’s prospects looked great.

Ted led Dario around the room, introducing each player to him with a fun little fact; Sam owned a restaurant, Isaac loved the movie Age of Innocence, Jan was into true crime, Dani “hablas Español!”.

“And this here’s some of our staff,” Ted continued, turning his attention to the rest of us. He quickly introduced Dario to Beard, who tipped his hat, and Roy, who scowled. Then Ted turned to me, proudly presenting me as “the glue that keeps this whole operation together”.

Ted went on. “Seriously, though. This right here is the nicest gal you’ll ever meet. Goes infinity and beyond for this team like she’s Buzz Lightyear. Hell, even grumpy ol’ Roy here’s got a soft spot for her.” My cheeks warmed as I refused to look anyone in the eye. “Anything you need, Dario, you just ask this one. She’ll take care of ya.”

I blushed at Ted’s praise as I faced Dario Vargas. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Dario took my hand and planted a small kiss on it; the team whistled like boys on the schoolyard. “Mucho gusto, belleza,” he purred.

Beside me, I could feel Roy cross his arms and stiffen. Great. As soon as they moved on to Keeley and took the attention with them, I gave Roy a miniscule bump. He glanced down at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth curved down. I raised my eyebrows, hoping that just looking at him would be enough to calm him down.

Keeley cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Alright, well now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we head to the pi-”

“Hello, Richmond!”

A knot formed in my stomach as soon as that syrupy voice reached my ears. Bursting through the doors looking like she’d just stepped out of a magazine was Brittany Brett. She sauntered up to Dario, who grabbed her and kissed her, dipping her slightly as the photographer’s camera click click clicked and the guys tittered. I inched closer to Roy, barely brushing my arm against his, as if the feather-light touch would somehow brand him as mine, mine, mine.

Apparently, my brilliant plan didn’t work, because, while Keeley ushered Dario and Ted out so they could head to the pitch for some quick photos before the press conference, Brittany Brett strolled in our direction. My fingers were trembling as my throat dried up. There she was. Brittany Brett. Standing in my changing room, with my team. Staring at my Roy.

A smirk played on her glossy lips as she gazed up at Roy through the longest, thickest lashes I’d ever seen. “Coach Roy, aren’t you happy to see me?” She opened her arms as if for a hug and raised a playful eyebrow, a pout on her pump lips.

Arms still crossed, Roy grunted and rolled his eyes. Without a glance in her direction, he turned around and grabbed my arm gently. He looked down at me, mouth set in a straight line. “I’ll be in our office. Tell me when it’s time for the shit show.” He stalked off, slamming the office door behind him.

Brittany Brett’s eyes fell on me as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. She smirked. “Roy’s always been a bit of a wanker, hmm?”

Oh, fuck you. I stood up a bit taller, still nowhere close to Brittany Brett’s statuesque height. “Actually, I think Roy’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“Hmm.” She looked me up and down, her cool expression making me question each article of clothing I’d put on that morning, right down to my knickers. “You work for Roy, don’t you? As his assistant, was it? I saw you hanging around him at Rebecca’s darling little charity gala.”

Heat surged through my whole body. “I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator.” No one would correct the slight promotion I’d just given myself. “Roy and I work together.”

Her eyes narrowed microscopically for a moment, her smile never fading. “Guess we’ll be seeing loads of each other then. Nice to meet you.” She icily turned on her ridiculously high heel and strutted out of the changing room, taking several gazes with her.

“Wow, she does not like you.” Jamie had appeared at my side. “You alright?”

I glanced around at the guys, milling about and chattering excitedly about their new teammate as they prepared for the day’s training. “Just annoyed at how pretty she is,” I grumbled. “And that she used to shag Roy.”

Jamie snorted. “I get that. I hate every guy Keeley’s ever been with.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “But just remember.” He looked over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Roy loves ya.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” I muttered, giving him a soft punch in the arm. “See you in a bit, yeah?”

I quietly walked into the office, where I found Roy leaning back in his chair, head tilted back, eyes closed. He opened one at the sound of the door opening and closed it again when he saw it was me.

“She gone?” he growled.

“Back to the pits of hell I hope,” I answered, closing the door and the blinds that looked into Ted’s office. “I kind of hate her,” I mumbled as I sank onto his lap, tossing my phone onto his desk.

Roy grunted and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Just my fucking luck that of all the footballers in Europe, she’s shagging the one we sign.” He buried his face in my neck. “Wanna fucking quit our jobs?”

I snorted. “I actually quite like my job. I can’t quit just because a model is rude to me.”

“At least Vargas seems to like you. A little too fucking much, I might add,” Roy grumbled, his scruff rubbing against my skin.

“Oh hush.” I lifted his chin so he could look at me. “I only like cranky retired footballers-turned-coach, alright?”

That earned me a smile from Roy. “Alright.” He kissed me gently, his hand finding its way into my hair, ignoring the fact that we were in the middle of our office on a day where the press was crawling about. His lips against mine was enough to make me forget until I caught sight of my mobile screen lighting up with a text alert.

Heading to the press room, the text from Keeley read. I reluctantly removed myself from Roy.

“Time for the shit show.”

~

I smiled as I watched Roy lay on the floor with Phoebe after dinner. From the look on his face, the ongoing drama between Phoebe’s dolls was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard in his life. His eyes flickered to me for a brief moment, his face softening into a look of complete fondness before turning back to his niece.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“I have never seen my brother love someone so much,” Roy’s sister murmured, handing me a glass of wine as she joined me at the table.

I nodded. “Oh, he adores Phoebe. Talks about her all the time.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Not Phoebe. You.” She smiled. “You’re really good for him, you know that?” Before I could deflect the compliment, she held up a finger. “Don’t play humble. He’s really happy. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He’s got a dog, he’s swearing less around Phoebe, he smiles all the time now.” She paused. “At least, all the time by Roy standards.”

“He makes me pretty happy too,” was all I could think to say. After a heavy silence, I added, “Thanks for inviting us over, by the way.” I smiled.

She shook her head. “I’m really glad we could finally do this. You’re so important to him. Which means you’re important to us.”

My heart swelled at her words. “I love how much time he spends with Phoebe,” I said, attempting to redirect the attention. “She’s great.”

“She thinks pretty much the same thing about you,” she chuckled. “Absolutely obsessed with you. Every day she asks if she can go over to Uncle Roy’s so she can play with you and Oscar.”

Right on cue, Phoebe bustled over, squeezing herself into my arms; I obliged and pulled her into a hug.

“Will you come to my ballet recital?”

The recital in question was still a couple of months away; for weeks now, Phoebe had asked me the same question every time she saw me. And each time, I answered the same.

“Of course. And I’ll bring you pink roses, alright?”

Satisfied with my unchanging answer, Phoebe gave me a small squeeze, took a sip of her juice that sat on the table, and ran back to her Uncle Roy, who was now wearing a tiara and holding a wand. He rolled his eyes lightheartedly as the small girl tackled him, roaring like a dragon.

I chuckled and turned back to his sister. “Alright, where’s that album you were telling me about?”

“Right here.” She nudged the bright blue photo album towards me with a sly grin. “Don’t let Roy see,” she stage-whispered.

“Don’t let me see what?” Roy called, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as Phoebe pretended to breathe flames out of her mouth.

I waved him off as I opened the book. “Never you mind.” My eyes were glued to the page before me. “Oh my God, he’s adorable,” I gushed, pointing at a picture of a young Roy hugging a football, mop of thick black hair on his head. “How old was he here?”

His sister squinted at the photo. “About five, maybe?” She pointed to another photograph. “That’s the first time our grandad took him to a match. He came home babbling nonstop about becoming a professional footballer when he grew up.” She rolled her eyes. “And of course, he was right, the bastard.”

I laughed and turned the page, pointing at photos and letting Roy’s sister tell me the stories behind each one. My eyes travelled with joy from image to image, watching Roy grow from an adorable child with a football at his feet to a surly teenager with his arms crossed to a grumpy adult only smiling when he was with Phoebe. His whole life right here, between the pages of a book. Despite spending an embarrassing amount of years with his face plastered on my walls, I could feel an intimacy as I looked at these photos; I was glimpsing the Roy Kent that no one else got to see, the Roy that looked at me tenderly and wrapped his arms around me at night. And a not-so-small part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I’d make it into that photo album someday.

“You are not looking at that thing,” Roy growled as he sat at the table, picking up the beer he’d left there.

“’course I am,” I scoffed, turning another page. “You never know when blackmail is going to come in handy.”

He shook his head and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “You can fucking keep her,” he offered to his sister.

She laughed, taking a drink of her wine. “If you were smart, you’d keep her.” She shot me a wink.

Another kiss landed on top of my head. “I plan to.”

~

“What d’you want for lunch today?” Roy raised his thick eyebrows at me while slipping on his leather jacket.

“Hmm…” I tapped my pen against my desk. “We haven’t had gyros yet this week. Kinda been craving one lately.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh, is this your office? How cute.”

I whipped my head around. Brittany Brett. Of course.

Roy scowled and looked back at me. “’ll bring you two gyros. Be right back.”

A silence settled over the office once he left. I glanced at Brittany, who was looking at Roy’s desk with far too much interest. For a few minutes I tried focusing on my work, hoping she’d take the hint and go away. Instead, she leaned over Roy’s desk to pick up the photo I’d taken of him and Phoebe at The Sound of Music. Finally, I cleared my throat.

“Need something?”

She looked up at me, her expression telling me that she’d completely forgotten I was there. In my own office. “Oh, nothing really. Just waiting for Dario to finish training.” Her gaze fell back to Roy’s desk; apparently, she was not going away anytime soon. I saw her do a double take at the simple heart I’d drawn on a sticky note and stuck to his desk a few weeks back. “So, Roy Kent’s grabbing his own lunch then?” She let out a small laugh. “Wow. On every job I’ve ever been on, it’s always the assistant’s job to grab lunches. They do all the little jobs, you know.”

My eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s not how we do things at Richmond.”

Brittany smiled at me- one of those smiles that horribly beautiful people have perfected, the one where you know they’re laughing at you on the inside- and nodded. “Clearly.” Her eyes flickered to my work area now. “What’s this?” She strolled over, eyes skimming my orange sticky note, mumbling the words To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent. “Well, isn’t that just cute, you made him sign an autograph.”

I crossed my arms across my chest with a huff. “It’s an inside joke between Roy and me.”

“Oh, you have inside jokes together, hmm?”

“Yup. Coworkers sometimes do.” Go away, go away.

She remained in place, gazing at the photo of my family that suddenly felt juvenile. “Bet you just love working here. Being surrounded by all those footballers, fit and handsome and rich.”

I snorted at the implication. “Surrounded by the smell of their sweat is more like it,” I muttered, feeling riled up by the absolute condescension in her voice.

She knew she was getting under my skin. “Oh, do you prefer grumpy coaches?”

Alright. She won. “So did you need something, or can I get back to work?”

Before Brittany could answer, Dario Vargas poked his head into the office. “There you are,” he said to Brittany. His face lit up when he saw me. “Hola, belleza,” he greeted. While I didn’t love the attention he paid to me, I couldn’t help but enjoy the slight annoyance it brought to Brittany Brett’s face whenever she heard him call me beautiful. He turned back to his perturbed girlfriend. “Ready?”

She tossed a little smirk in my direction as she took Dario’s outstretched hand. “I’ll see you later, Roy Kent’s biggest fan,” she called over her shoulder in a sing-song voice.

“Freaking cow,” I muttered under my breath as I returned to my laptop.

“Who’s a cow?”

Keeley bounded into the office, ponytail swinging behind her. She perched herself on my desk, curiosity playing on her face.

I hesitated a moment; I still wasn’t sure how Keeley felt about Brittany Brett. But the earnest interest in Keeley’s eyes encouraged me. “Brittany Brett,” I muttered.

“Ooh, really?” She leaned forward, that devilish smile on her face. “Hmm, you don’t like Roy Kent’s ex-girlfriend. Why would that be?”

“You know, if I did fancy him- which I’m not saying I do- you’d be doing a shit job of helping me keep it secret,” I pointed out.

Keeley shrugged. “What if I wasn’t interested in helping keep it secret? What if I’m interested in telling him all about how hot you are for him so he can stop being a knob and ask you out already?”

Why is my office being bombarded by models intent on annoying me today?!

“Keeley-”

She shook her head. “Babes, stop denying it already! I’ve seen the way you go all red every time the man walks into the room. And on press conference day, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you in that little skirt.”

I blushed at the memory of the way Roy had looked at me that day. “Keeley, are you in here for a reason?”

“I was just popping in to say hi,” she admitted, glancing at her impeccable nails. “And you still haven’t explained why Brittany Brett is a cow.”

I winced. “She’s not a friend of yours, is she? Because I know you’ve done a couple shoots together and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you like her and-”

Keeley wrinkled her nose. “Nah, she is a bit of a cow. She once tried to hit on Jamie at a wrap party when I was standing right next to him.”

“See, that absolutely sounds like her,” I scoffed. “I know everyone’s excited about this Vargas thing, and I am too. I want to win, but shit, what do we have to put up with to get there? She’s here all the damn time, and Rebecca says she can’t exactly tell Dario she can’t hang around when you’re always here, but you work with us, so I think it’s a shit excuse because we all just want to make Dario happy. And she just hovers and flirts with the boys and I dunno what business she has in my office, looking at my things, touching Roy’s shit. Like, fuck, doesn’t she have a camera to go stand in front of?” I paused. “Shit, no offense, Keeley. Scratch that last comment, I’m just being a grouch.” I let out a deep breath. Ranting felt good.

Keeley stared at me with wide eyes. “Wow. You’re really jealous of Brittany Brett, babe.”

I sighed. “It’s not that. I just hate that she called me Roy’s assistant.”

“Um…” Keeley cocked her head at me pitifully. “You are his assistant.”

“No, I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator or assistant or whatever the fuck you always call me,” I grumbled. “Assistant makes it sound like I spend my time picking up Roy’s lunch. Everyone knows he brings me lunch.”

A softness appeared on Keeley’s face. “And everyone knows you are an absolutely essential part of this team, babe.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Those idiots wouldn’t be able to function without me.”

“What idiots?”

Roy stood in the doorway, takeaway bag in one hand, and a cup with a straw in the other. He took a sip, looking at me expectantly.

“Ted. Beard.” I nodded in his direction. “You.”

He furrowed his brow. “’m not a fucking idiot.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. Roy, you’re just as useless as Ted and Beard. Maybe worse.” I could feel Keeley’s eyes bouncing back and forth between us like a tennis match. “Like, what time’s that interview Keeley set up for you?”

“Whatever time you drag me out of my chair and tell me to go to my fucking interview,” he answered, shrugging as if it were obvious.

“It’s at three. And what is the interview about?” I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Roy took another sip of his soda. “Whatever the wanker journalist asks me about.”

“It’s for a piece on the football club you founded for underprivileged children in your old neighborhood. Also, in about fifteen minutes, you’re going to get cold and go looking for your jacket. You left it in the weight room when you were screaming at Jamie.” I reached my hand out. “I’ll take my gyros now.”

Even with Keeley right there watching us, Roy couldn’t hide the small grin on his face as he handed me the bag of food. “Here, you bossy thing. Let me know when I’m allowed to eat.”

“Fuck. You two are like, work married or some shit,” Keeley giggled. “Now, kiss.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You can leave now, Keeley.”

She hopped off my desk, shooting me a wink. “Aww, do Mr. and Mrs. Kent need some alone time?” She giggled as she passed by Roy, giving him a soft nudge. “You two make a lovely couple,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

Roy slumped into his chair, swiveling it around to face me. “I do like the sound of alone time,” he hummed.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Then hurry up and eat your lunch,” I retorted. “I’ve got you scheduled for a quick snog before your interview.”

~

Richmond wasn’t supposed to beat Man City. Everyone knew that.

So, when the final whistle blew on a 2-1 Richmond victory, everyone went berserk. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought we’d won the whole “kit and kaboodle”, as Ted would say, rather than a regular season match of little consequence. On the pitch, the boys leaped into each other’s arms, laughing and shouting at one another. In the dugout, Ted, Beard, and Roy shook hands, smiles all around. I stood off to the side, clutching my tablet and shaking my head, a laugh trapped in my chest. Normally, I’d have watched this game with friends at home or in a pub, beer splashing all over us with the final whistle. Instead, I now stood on the pitch at Nelson Road, feeling the roar of the crowd and players burrow beneath my skin.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. When I looked up, Roy was grinning down at me. “Get the fuck out there!” he yelled over the noise. Without warning, he grabbed my tablet and tossed it to Will, then lifted me off my feet and carried me out to the pitch as I squealed with laughter, Ted and Beard running just ahead of us to join the team.

In an instant, I was swallowed into a sea of bright blue as the boys jumped up and down, shouting with the fans in the stands: “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die! We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

A pair of hands reached out and took mine; it took a moment to realize it was Jamie. He pulled me into a tight hug before I was grabbed by Sam, then Isaac, and in time I had been embraced by each member of the team, pats on my back and kisses on the top of my head. Eventually, I found my way through the throng back to Roy, who pulled me into the tightest hug of all, his embrace letting me know that he would give me a proper celebration kiss the moment we were alone. For a brief moment, I didn’t care where we were; I wanted that kiss now.

Before I could lift my face to Roy’s, Ted grabbed me and wrapped me in a bear hug, babbling about how happy he was and something about a pig and slop. I nodded and smiled, the way I always did when I wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, as we took the celebration into the changing room. Over my shoulder, I could see Roy and Jamie chattering and walking together with springs in their steps, Roy’s bright eyes on me.

In the changing room, the boys continued their celebration, blasting music and dancing around. Somewhere in all of it, the decision was made to move the festivities to a local club. I eyed Roy, who I knew hated clubs even more than I did. He met my gaze with a defeated shrug; he knew we really had no choice.

That’s how I found myself in a dark club, drink in hand, surrounded by Richmond players and staff. Keeley had insisted I go home and change out of my Richmond jumper and into “something you’ll look fit in”. In the back of my closet, I had found the little black dress I often wore when my girlfriends took me on a night out. With a little extra makeup and a pair of heels, I felt strangely confident as I arrived at the club. My confidence amplified when Keeley shrieked at the sight of me.

“Fuck, you look great!” she gushed, squeezing me. “Roy’s gonna drag you out of here all caveman-style.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending that wasn’t a very real possibility. “You act like my world revolves around the man.”

She smirked. “I bet his revolves around you. Look.” She nodded across the club, pointing out Roy, who stood with Jamie, beer in hand, eyes fixated intensely on me. “That is a man planning on getting lai-”

“I’ll go with you to say hello if you don’t finish that sentence,” I promised, linking my arm with Keeley’s. The offer seemed good to Keeley, apparently, because she kept her mouth shut as we made our way over to the guys.

While Keeley threw her arms around Jamie, I turned to Roy. He smirked down at me as he took a sip of his beer.

“You wanna dance?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

He shrugged. “It’s a celebration. Everyone’s fucking sloshed. No one’ll notice, ’cept maybe Keeley, once she removes Tartt’s tongue from her throat.” Sure enough, Keeley and Jamie were locked in a pretty intense embrace against a wall.

“Then let’s dance,” I agreed.

Roy set our drinks on the bar and slipped his hand into mine, guiding me to the dance floor. Normally, I hated clubs; too loud, too crowded, too lonely. But when Roy planted his hands firmly on my hips and pulled me closer to himself, I found myself wondering if maybe I’d misjudged clubs. Part of me again wished I could just reach up and kiss him, the way other couples like Jamie and Keeley did. Maybe the time was approaching to rethink the whole “keeping things quiet” thing. Maybe Roy felt the same way. After all, this was something serious. We’d met each other’s families. I had my own key to his house. There was a dog that I had named that slept at the foot of Roy’s bed. We were building a life together. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep it a secret anymore.

A buzz of chatter interrupted my thoughts. I craned my neck and saw what- or who- had caused such a commotion: Dario Vargas and Brittany Brett had arrived, looking more like they were going to a movie premiere than celebrating a regular-season win with the team. As I took in the sight of Brittany in her cutout dress that was more skin than dress, my outfit suddenly felt like something a uni student would buy for her first night out with her girlfriends.

As if he could feel my insecurities bubbling to the surface, Roy grunted to get my attention. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he called over the music. “Can’t believe I haven’t seen that dress yet.”

I offered Roy a tight smile, my heart not quite in it. It had been exhausting since Dario- and Brittany- had arrived at Richmond. The paparazzi were hanging around much more than usual, Dario was constantly trying to find an excuse to talk to me, the players I loved turned into drooling children when Brittany would walk in the room, and I had to have this constant reminder about the kind of girls Roy usually went for and how vastly different I was from them.

Trying to ignore the growing pit in my stomach, I danced with Roy to a few more songs before I finally suggested we grab drinks. We found Jamie and Keeley still at the bar, but at least now they had come up for air. We had just settled with beers when someone- probably Isaac- suggested the whole team take shots. It wasn’t long before someone else- maybe Dani this time- suggested another round. And on and on until the night started to become a blur of alcohol and music and Roy’s smile and Brittany Brett hovering on the periphery.

I was on shot number who knows when Roy stood from the couch we’d been sitting on and announced that he’d be right back with another drink and some water. I had been alone for all of two seconds when I felt someone sit on my other side. Fully expecting Keeley or Jamie or literally anyone else, I froze when I saw it was Brittany Brett.

“Having fun?” she hummed, her eyes travelling over my dress, the dress Roy had assured me he liked.

I cleared my throat, determined to be nice. “I am, actually. Yourself?”

She shrugged, a bored expression on her too-perfect face. “I guess. Getting a little tired of all the papps following Dario and me around, you know?” She scrunched her nose. “Or maybe not.”

Cow.

She continued. “You and Roy seem very chummy,” she observed. “If I didn’t know his type, I’d think there was something between you.” The fakest smile I’d ever seen appeared on her face. “Not that anyone could blame you for having a crush on Roy Kent. He’s fit and famous, not to mention loaded. Quite a catch.”

The number of shots I’d taken didn’t let me resist. “That’s not why I like him,” I disputed. “I like him because he’s kind and he’s funny and he takes care of the people he loves. I like him because he’s a fantastic uncle, and he’s passionate about coaching, and he sings along to Julie Andrews movies.” I shook my head. “Sure, I had a crush on him before I knew all that, but that’s not why I’m dating him.”

Fuck.

If this was news to Brittany Brett, she did not show it. Instead, her lips formed a tiny smirk as her eyes flickered somewhere behind me. “Oh. You are shagging Roy Kent then?”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the way Brittany Brett made me feel so fucking small. Maybe it was the months of pretending that Roy and I were just friends. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, sticking my chin out. “I’m shagging Roy Kent.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And let me guess. He’s sweet to you, even though he’s an arse to the rest of the world. He lets you wear his Richmond shirts to bed. He tells you all about Phoebe and their little uncle-niece dates. He likes to sit and read together on rainy days. He lets you pick the movies, even if he knows he’ll hate them.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Yeah. I know what it looks like to be with Roy Kent. Hell, I know what it looks like to have Roy Kent want to marry you.” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with condescension. “Do you?”

My mouth was dry as I tripped on my words. “That doesn’t- we’ve only been- he’s-” I swallowed hard, taking in only air. “He loves me.”

Brittany nodded patronizingly. “I’m sure you think he does. But let’s be honest, you’re just there to fill time until I take him back.” She sipped her drink. “Which may be sooner than you think,” she added with a smirk.

The pit in my stomach grew. “You dumped him,” I said dumbly. “What makes you think he’d want to be with you again?”

She leaned in close, her smile now completely evil. “Love, stop kidding yourself that you matter to him. You’re just a distraction. You just remember that, hmm?” She stood, leaving her empty glass on the low table. “Why else would he not tell anyone about you?” With a tiny wave of her fingers, she was gone in the crowd.

It was a good thing I was already sitting, because my legs were weak. The entire club was spinning as the pulsating music attacked my ears and confused the rhythm of my heart. As I debated just running out of the club, Roy came back, smile on his face and drinks in his hands.

“Sorry,” he called out, sitting back beside me and slipping one of the drinks into my grasp. “Lasso insisted on fucking ‘coach shots’ with him and Beard. He sent me to find you so we could do a round together all four of us, but I was actually wondering if you wanted to get out of here.” He raised his thick eyebrows at me. “It’s about Oscar’s bedtime,” he joked.

“I want to tell people about us,” I blurted out.

Roy blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by my sudden demand. “Oh. Wow. Fuck.” He leaned back onto the couch, eyes still on me. “Alright, well I guess tomorrow we could talk about-”

I shook my head. “No. Roy, I want to tell people right now.” I gestured around us. “Our families already know. The whole team’s here. Hell, there’s even reporters wandering around somewhere. All we’d have to do is kiss-”

The frown on Roy’s face was deeper than I’d ever seen. “Reporters? You want to tell fucking reporters about us?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Roy, I didn’t mean that-”

“Well then what the fuck did you mean?” His face was so twisted that his eyebrows nearly touched. “You know I fucking hate the tabloids. We can talk about how to tell the gits at Richmond, but fuck reporters. Fuck photographers. Fuck all of that.”

My grip tightened on the untouched drink in my hand. “Because I’m a nobody, right? Because you’re scared of all the shit they’re going to say about me, your measly little assistant?”

Roy shook his head incredulously. “The fuck are you on about? I don’t want fuck all to do with them because I find them annoying as shit. They’ll just go on and on about me being an old geezer shagging some twenty-year-old girl. You don’t know what it’s fucking like to deal with all that bullshit.”

“No, I guess some twenty-year-old girl isn’t worth all the hassle,” I spat back.

“What the fuck is this about?” He set his glass down and held his hand out to me. “Come on. Let’s go home. We can crawl into bed and talk about this without some shitty strobe lights making my night vision worse.”

“Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?” My voice was tiny, so tiny I wasn’t sure if Roy even heard me.

But he did. “Embarrassed?” he repeated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I want to go home because I’m fucking old.” He stared at me in disbelief. “Why the fuck do you care about anyone knowing about us? I mean, fine, let’s fucking tell Keeley and Rebecca and the gaffers so we can stop sneaking about. I don’t mind telling Isaac and them. But why the fuck is it anyone else’s business but ours?” The panic in his eyes made it clear: He still doesn’t want anyone to know about me.

I slammed my glass down beside his. “Because I’m fucking tired, Roy. I’m sick of the sneaking and pretending and of feeling like some shitty little secret.” Fuck. There were tears forming in my eyes now. “I feel like fucking nothing. Like, I’m invisible and everyone knows who you are. Fucking ‘He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’, fucking Roy Kent Effect, fucking Chelsea legend with his thousands of models and shit.”

Even in the shitty club lighting, I could see Roy’s face turn red. “Hey. You knew exactly who the fuck I was when we met. How could you not with all those fucking posters plastered here, there, every-fucking-where?”

His words knocked the wind out of me. The posters. It was a joke between us, one we shared fondly. An embarrassing story I felt sure he would tell at our wedding someday in the future. The adorable meet-cute we’d share with friends, colleagues, maybe even our kids someday. But now it was being thrown in my face like something to be ashamed of. As if I was still nothing but that stupid little fan I’d felt like the moment Roy had first seen those fucking posters.

“If that’s how you feel.” I stood, rummaging through my clutch until I found my keys. “Here, don’t want a fucking stalker like me having this.” I yanked off his house key and dropped it on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the press about how you love Julie Andrews or about your dog being named after a Sesame Street character or that thing you do with your hips or any of the nice shit you deigned to do for a fucking nobody like me.”

Roy’s face crumpled as he looked at the key on the table. “Is this really what you fucking want?”

No. I want you to fight for me. I want you to tell me how much you love me. I want you to tell me we can figure this out. I want you to tell me that I matter to you. I want you to tell me that I’m not just some fan you had a good time with. I want you to want everyone to know you love me. I want you to be proud of me.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “It’s what I fucking want. ’m sick of being some slag assistant shagging her boss.”

I turned and stumbled away, forcing myself to keep looking ahead; a glance of Roy would have me losing my resolve. As I made my way to the exit, a hand landed on my shoulder.

“Alright there?” Concern covered Jamie’s face.

Tears threatened to fall as I nodded. “Yeah. No. Jamie, could you get Keeley for me?”

“’course.”

It was the longest minute of my life before Keeley hurried to me, her pitiful expression similar to Jamie’s. “What’s wrong, love? Jamie said you looked completely freaked out.”

I shook my head. “I… I need to go. Can you come home with me?”

A smirk played on her face. “Don’t let Roy hear you say that, he might get jeal-” Her eyes widened when the first tear finally fell down my cheek. “Oh. Oh shit. Okay, hold on.” She disappeared and reappeared with Jamie in tow. “Stay with her,” she hissed before turning back to me. “I’ll get a car. Be right back, babes.” She hustled off towards the exit.

Jamie turned to me, placing his hands on my arms. “You alright?” he repeated. When I didn’t answer, he sighed. “Is it Roy?”

More tears fell at the sound of his name. “I think we just broke up,” I whimpered.

“Oh fuck. Shit.” Jamie pulled me in close for a hug. “You’ll be alright,” he assured me, speaking directly into my ear. “I know you’ll be alright.” He held me like that until Keeley returned.

After Jamie released me, Keeley took my hand and led me outside, where a taxi waited for us. She loaded me in, gave the driver my address, then turned her attention to me.

“You ready to tell me what happened?” she asked as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Something with Roy?”

I took a deep, shaky breath. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

She shook her head. “Babes, I could never be mad at you.”

“Roy and I have been dating,” I admitted, burying my head in my hands. “For months. The only people that knew were my folks and his sister and Phoebe. Oh, and Jamie. He walked in on me in Roy’s kitchen while I was wearing nothing but one of Roy’s old kits.”

“Hot,” Keeley noted, trying to make me laugh.

Despite the aching in my chest, I snorted and lifted my head. Almost immediately, the pain came back to me. “Keeley, I fucking loved him. Roy. And I think I just fucked things up beyond repair. And I don’t even know if I’d want to fix them if I could.”

“How d’you mean?”

I sighed. “Roy had asked me about keeping things a secret when we started dating. And I didn’t really mind. Kind of agreed with him, actually. Didn’t want shit from everyone. And honestly, I liked him so much, I would’ve done just about anything he asked anyway. But things just got fucking hard and then Brittany fucking Brett told me all about how I’m just into Roy because he’s Roy fucking Kent and that I’m basically a placeholder til they get back together.”

“Fucking cow,” Keeley hissed.

I continued, “And when I told Roy I was ready to tell people, he freaked out a bit. Made me realize that maybe there’s some truth to all the shit Brittany Brett was telling me. That I was just another one of Roy Kent’s girls. I just happened to last longer than most.”

“Oh, no love,” Keeley murmured, stroking my hair. “No, no. I don’t know anything about your relationship, but I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. You’re not a placeholder. You’re special to him.”

I shook my head, sobs in my chest. “Then why have I been just a secret all this time?”

Of course, Keeley couldn’t answer that. What she could do, however, was hold me while I cried in the back of the car. What she could do was walk me up to my flat and grab me some pyjamas to change into. What she could do was crawl into bed with me and hold me until I cried myself to sleep. And for the now, that would have to do.

~

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