#only the ending gave me any kind of emotional response

[pinkkkko]

I hope the show will include the pure agony of those last chapters in The Vampire Armand - how the close contentment was, despite the knowledge it would be short: he had something, something that made him feel loved in a way he had never been before. How it was ripped away from him, his grief, his surrender, his defeat that was so sudden it actually made me feel sick. I want that in this show, give it to me NOW

[reidmarieprentiss]

Breaking Point

Summary: Spencer has a partner, his partner is not necessarily a great person. You really just want to connect with him, he is your roommate, Penelope's, friend after all. But Spencer just does not seem to like you, can you change that?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer has a partner, implied bisexual Spencer, non-graphic cheating, emotionally distant partner, controlling partner, Spencer is sassy and kind of mean, mention of Spencer's drug problem, insecurities

Word count: 14.6k

a/n: i know i can treat you better than they cannnnn -- happy one day early post !!!!

main masterlist part two

The evening was typical for you—a night out with the team at one of their usual spots, a lively bar that served as the backdrop for many of their post-case celebrations. You were perched on a high stool at the bar, sipping on a cocktail Penelope, your roommate, had insisted you try, something bright and fruity with just the right amount of sweetness. The music was loud enough to make conversation a bit challenging, but not so much that it drowned everyone out.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes casually scanning the room. Derek was engaged in a playful argument with JJ about some obscure movie reference, and Rossi was deep in conversation with Hotch. Everyone seemed relaxed, their faces lit with the glow of well-deserved downtime.

But then, something caught your eye—a flash of movement at the other end of the bar. Spencer, the quiet and reserved member of the team who had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, was engaged in what looked like a rather intense conversation with someone you didn’t recognize. The contrast between Spencer’s usual timid demeanor and the animated gestures he was making now piqued your curiosity.

You leaned closer to Penelope, who was sitting beside you, tapping away on her phone as usual, her fingers a blur of activity. "Who’s that?" you asked, nodding toward Spencer and the unknown person.

Penelope glanced up from her screen, following your gaze, and immediately sighed, rolling her eyes in a way that suggested this was a scene she had witnessed more times than she cared to count. "That’s Eli," she said, the name laced with a tone that was hard to miss. "Spencer’s partner."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Spencer has a partner?" The revelation blew your mind. You'd known the team for over a year, seen and been seen in all sorts of situations—some more embarrassing than others—and not once had Spencer ever mentioned having a partner. It was like discovering a hidden chapter in a book you thought you knew well.

Penelope gave you a knowing look, her lips pressing together as if she were debating whether or not to continue. You nudged her lightly, urging her on. "What is it? You can’t just leave me hanging."

She sighed again, this time more softly, and leaned in closer so that only you could hear. "It just doesn’t seem like they’re very happy together, you know? They always seem to be arguing about something or other. I don't think I’ve ever seen them have a normal conversation."

You turned your attention back to Spencer and Eli, who were still deep in conversation—if you could even call it that. From where you were sitting, it looked more like Eli was doing most of the talking, their tone sharp, while Spencer listened, his face a mask of confusion and quiet frustration.

"Why does he stay with them if they’re so unhappy?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. 

Penelope shrugged, taking a sip of her drink before responding. "Spencer's complicated, you know? I think part of him feels…responsible or something. Like he has to make it work, even if it’s not working."

You nodded, still watching the exchange between Spencer and Eli, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Part of you was shocked that Spencer, someone who always seemed so put-together, was caught up in a relationship that didn’t seem to bring him any joy. And another part of you, the part that had always felt a bit of an inexplicable attachment to him, felt a pang of something else—something almost like protectiveness.

"I never would’ve guessed," you murmured, more to yourself than to Penelope. 

"Yeah, well," Penelope replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "There’s a lot about Spencer that’s easy to miss if you’re not looking closely."

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but keep glancing in Spencer's direction, wondering what else you might have missed about him over the past year. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how little you actually knew about the man who had somehow managed to become both a puzzle and an enigma in your life.

—

You’re not sure what brought on this new damn near obsession with Spencer Reid, but ever since you found out about him having a partner, you’ve been thinking about him differently. It was as if knowing he was capable of being in a relationship made you want to be the one who showed him what a healthy one looks like. The thought had wormed its way into your mind and now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him in your daily life. 

Whether you were at work, at home, or out with friends, your thoughts always seemed to drift back to Spencer—his quiet demeanor, the way he fiddled with his hands when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to be the one who made him smile, the one who could take away the stress you’d seen him carry.

Weeks passed, and you tried to push these thoughts to the back of your mind, but they always crept back in. So when Penelope proposed a night at Rossi’s, you jumped at the opportunity, hoping that maybe being around him might help you understand why you were feeling this way.

When you arrived at Rossi’s, the place was buzzing with laughter and conversation. Penelope was already engaged in a lively discussion with Derek and JJ, and Rossi was busy pouring drinks for everyone. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on Spencer, standing off to the side, a drink in hand. He was alone—no Eli in sight.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, you were making your way over to him, driven by an urge to finally talk to him alone. Maybe this was your chance to get to know him better, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you two.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted, nudging your elbow gently against his as you walked up next to him.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of confusion as he looked at you. It was as if he wasn’t quite sure why you had come over.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart was beating a little faster than you’d like to admit.

“Fine, thanks,” he nodded, his gaze drifting away from you almost immediately. “And you?”

“I’m great, thank you!” you answered with a smile, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to hang in the air between you.

But Spencer didn’t reply. Instead, he stood there, clearly feeling awkward, his eyes focused on some distant point in the room. You bit your lip, trying to think of something else to say, something that might spark a real conversation.

“So…I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” you ventured, letting out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

At that, Spencer stiffened. He finally turned to look at you, his expression hardening in a way that caught you off guard. “Well, you don’t really know me, do you?” he said, his tone colder than you’d ever heard it before.

“What?” you asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor. The sharpness in his voice sent a jolt through you, making you feel like you’d stepped onto thin ice without realizing it.

But he didn’t stop there. “You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” he continued, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would you be privy to intimate details of my life?”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, and you stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. “Oh—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your confidence crumbling as you tried to process what had just happened. You had expected many things from this conversation, but this level of hostility wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, okay,” Spencer muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, violently confused.

You watched him retreat, your mind racing to understand what had just happened. The warmth and excitement you had felt moments ago were now replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in your chest. What had you done wrong? Why had he reacted that way?

As you stood there, the lively chatter and laughter of the party continued around you, but it all felt distant, muffled. All you could think about was Spencer’s harsh words, and the way he had looked at you—like you were a stranger, like you had crossed a line you didn’t even know existed.

“Hey mama, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?” Derek’s deep, familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you back in the present. 

You blinked a few times, forcing a smile onto your face as you turned to face Derek. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, doing your best to sound convincing. “It’s good to see you!”

Derek didn’t seem entirely convinced, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled back, his usual warmth returning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “Good to see you too, girl. Let’s get you back in the spirit of the night, huh?”

You nodded, grateful for his easy going nature as you allowed yourself to be swept back into the flow of the evening. Derek had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, and as the two of you rejoined the group, you found yourself easing back into the laughter and conversation around you. It wasn’t hard to get caught up in the fun, especially with Penelope’s infectious energy and Rossi’s endless supply of stories.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the good vibes of the night, there was a nagging thought at the back of your mind—a quiet, persistent echo of your brief and bewildering interaction with Spencer. You couldn’t shake the image of his face, the sudden hardness in his eyes, and the way his tone had shifted so drastically from the Spencer you thought you knew.

You stole a glance across the room, where Spencer was now engaged in a conversation with JJ, his expression relaxed, his laughter genuine. It was as if nothing had happened at all, as if your exchange just moments earlier hadn’t rattled you to your core.

The contrast was jarring, and it left you feeling even more confused. How could he seem so unaffected, so nonchalant, after what had just transpired? It was like the sweet, shy man you’d come to know had been ripped away in an instant, replaced by someone who was colder, more distant, and completely unreadable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong, why such an innocent question had triggered such a reaction from him. It was just one question—one that, in hindsight, seemed harmless. And yet, his response had been anything but.

“Hey, earth to Y/N,” Derek’s voice snapped you back again, this time with a playful nudge. “Where’d you go just now? I was asking if you wanted another drink.”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out again. “Oh, sorry! Yeah, I could use another one,” you said, offering him another smile. This time, you meant it. Maybe another drink would help you forget the odd tension for a little while, help you push Spencer out of your mind.

—

That night, as the evening began to wind down, you noticed Spencer slipping out quietly after saying his goodbyes to everyone but you. A pang of something—hurt, maybe?—struck you as you watched him head toward the front door, his figure receding into the night. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just the lingering awkwardness from earlier, nothing more.

But then you noticed something out of place—Spencer had left his satchel behind, the one he always carried with him, filled with books, notes, and who knows what else. Without thinking, you grabbed it and rushed out the door after him, your heart pounding with adrenaline and the hope of another chance to talk.

“Spencer! Wait!” you called out, your voice echoing in the cool night air as you ran down the driveway, the gravel crunching under your feet.

Spencer, already halfway into the passenger seat of the car, paused at the sound of your voice. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression immediately shifting to one of mild annoyance when he realized it was you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he was hoping it would be anyone else but you.

“You left your bag,” you panted, holding it up as you caught up to him.

“Oh,” he replied, his tone flat, his eyes glancing at the bag as if it was the last thing on his mind. “Thanks,” Spencer added, his voice barely above a mumble as he took the satchel from your hands. 

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the awkward tension hanging between you. But just as you were about to wish him a good night, your eyes shifted to the driver’s seat where Eli was sitting, glaring at you with a cold, suspicious gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of their stare made you falter, your words catching in your throat.

“Have a good ni—” you started, but before you could finish, Eli’s hand jerked the car into gear, and the tires screeched against the pavement as they peeled out of the driveway. The door barely had time to close behind Spencer before they were speeding off into the night.

You stood there, breathless and confused, watching the taillights disappear down the road. The cold night air seemed to wrap around you, a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled Rossi’s home just minutes ago.

You couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in your chest. The way Spencer had looked at you, the way Eli had glared, the way the car had sped off as if they couldn’t wait to leave you behind—it all left you feeling more out of sorts than ever.

—

The next time you saw Spencer, it was completely by accident. You were excitedly attending the grand opening of a vintage bookstore that had been on your calendar for months. The store was rumored to have an original copy of Pride and Prejudice, and you were determined to get your hands on it. As you approached the entrance, ready to join the line that had already started forming, a tall, familiar figure caught your eye.

Spencer was standing off to the side, hunched in on himself as he spoke into his phone. His posture was tense, and his voice, though hushed, carried a tone of desperation and frustration that made you slow your steps.

“—you said you would be here! You know how important this is to me…” His voice wavered, and he paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Your heart ached as you watched him, his expression filled with hurt and disappointment. His next words were spoken with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside you.

“I went to your comicon, waited all night in line to get a video game for you, and I did that…thing! This morning, remember?”

You couldn’t hear what Eli was saying, but from the look on Spencer’s face, it was clear that whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it shook as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“Eli,” Spencer sighed, the sound so full of defeat that it nearly broke your heart. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I never ask you to do anything…it does matter! It’s not stupid…okay. Yeah. Bye. Love you too.”

As he ended the call, you watched as he put his phone in his pocket, his shoulders slumping as he sniffled, clearly trying to compose himself. The vulnerability in his posture made you want to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him that he deserved so much better than this.

But before he could see you, you quickly made your way past him and into the line, your heart racing. You didn’t want to embarrass him by acknowledging what you had overheard. It felt too private, too raw, and you knew that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want someone to witness such a moment of weakness.

Little did you know that Spencer had seen you walk by, his heart sinking further as he realized you might have heard his conversation. The idea of you knowing how he couldn’t even get his partner to come to a bookstore—a place that meant so much to him—was mortifying. It was bad enough that Eli had chosen to watch football with their friends instead of joining him, but the thought of you knowing about it only added to his embarrassment.

Spencer fell into line a few people behind you, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of rejection. He wished that the rift between you two didn’t exist, especially on a day like today. The thought of walking through the store with someone, discussing books, sharing little discoveries, was something that would have brought him immense joy. But now, with the awkwardness hanging between you like a thick fog, he knew it wasn’t possible.

As the line moved forward, you tried to focus on the excitement of the bookstore’s opening, but you couldn’t help but steal glances back at Spencer. He looked so alone, so isolated, and it made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t quite want to name. The bookstore should have been a place of happiness for him, but all you could see was the shadow of his disappointment.

You had managed to find the original Pride and Prejudice that you wanted, and your heart felt so full it was almost overwhelming. This book meant the world to you, bringing back memories of your grandmother reading it to you when you were sick as a child. The familiar scent of old pages and the sight of the worn, delicate cover brought a lump to your throat, but it was the good kind, the kind of feeling that reminded you of warmth and love.

As you clutched the book to your chest, savoring the moment, a voice came from behind you, pulling you out of your reverie. “Great choice, I can’t believe they have an original.”

You turned, surprised, to see a very attractive stranger standing there. They had strikingly beautiful eyes that seemed to draw you in, making you momentarily forget where you were. “Yeah, it’s my favorite,” you replied with a bright smile. “I’m so glad I was able to get it.”

“Shane,” they offered, extending their hand with an easy, confident smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You took their hand, feeling a pleasant warmth from the gesture. “Y/N,” you said, your smile widening. “Nice to meet you too.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. You and Shane chatted about literature, the excitement of the new bookstore, and your mutual love for classic novels. Their enthusiasm for books mirrored your own, and you found yourself enjoying the banter, feeling a sense of connection with this person you’d just met.

What you didn’t realize was that Spencer was watching from afar, his heart twisting in knots as he observed how easily you interacted with new people. It was something he envied—how naturally you navigated social situations, how the friendly vibes seemed to radiate off you in waves. Anyone could see how nice you were, how approachable, and it only made him more aware of the tension that had built up between the two of you.

He wished things could have gotten off to a better start between you. But every time he thought about trying to fix things, that cold interaction from the other night lingered in his mind, making him think it was too late. And now, seeing you so effortlessly connect with someone else, someone who had already made you smile, only deepened the pang of jealousy in his chest.

As you made your way to the register, Shane walked with you, continuing the conversation. Just before you reached the counter, Shane asked, “Hey, would it be okay if I got your number? I’d love to keep talking about books and maybe grab a coffee sometime.”

You smiled, feeling flattered by the request. “Sure, I’d like that.” You exchanged numbers, feeling a small flutter of excitement as you parted ways with Shane.

Meanwhile, Spencer watched from a distance, the jealousy tightening its grip. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the effortless way in which you interacted with others, or if it was the fact that someone else had gotten your number so easily—something he knew he could never have done. Either way, the feeling gnawed at him, making him feel even more isolated than before.

When it was your turn to pay, you glanced back and noticed Spencer standing behind you in line. His eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable, but you remembered how upset he had been earlier. Knowing he was having a bad day and sensing the awkward vibes that had developed between the two of you, you decided to do something small to brighten his day.

Leaning in to the cashier, you whispered, “Could you estimate how much his books would cost?”

The cashier smiled and nodded, quickly scanning the stack of books in Spencer’s hands with their eyes. They told you the amount, and you quietly pulled out your bills, paying for Spencer’s purchases along with your own. Without saying a word to him, you took your bag and left the store, hoping that this small act of kindness might bring a bit of light into his day.

As Spencer approached the counter, still lost in his thoughts, the cashier smiled warmly at him. “You’re all set, sir. The woman in front of you already paid for your books.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned. “She… she did what?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

The cashier nodded, still smiling. “She paid for everything. Said she hoped you’d have a good day.”

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, holding the bag of books as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His mind raced, trying to make sense of why you would do something so kind for him when he had been nothing but cold to you since you met. The memory of your most recent awkward exchange at Rossi’s house replayed in his head, and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.

Why would you do such a kind thing? He didn’t deserve it, not after the way he had treated you. And yet, you had done it anyway, without a word, without expecting anything in return.

As Spencer left the store, the bag of books clutched in his hand, he was overwhelmed by a mix of gratitude, guilt, and a growing sense of something missing. He’d had doubts about his relationship with Eli before, but he had always convinced himself that this was just how relationships were—messy and full of compromises.

But after seeing your kindness and how effortlessly you connected with others, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something better. For the first time, he questioned whether he deserved more than what he had settled for with Eli. Your simple act of paying for his books had cracked open a door in his mind, making him realize that maybe there was a different, happier path he could take—one that might even include someone like you.

—

When Spencer walked into the bullpen that Monday, he immediately noticed Penelope animatedly talking with Derek and Emily. The moment she heard someone enter, her eyes lit up as she saw him.

“Reid!” she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he walked over to her instead of heading straight to his desk. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and amused.

“Look!” Penelope gushed, thrusting a book into his hands with excitement.

Spencer glanced down, recognizing the book instantly—it was a first edition of a title he knew Penelope loved. His eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow! Where did you find this?” he asked, marveling at the rare find.

Penelope sighed happily, clutching her hands to her heart. “Y/N got it for me! I couldn’t make it to the new bookstore, and she knew how sad I was, so she bought this to cheer me up!”

Spencer processed this new piece of information, feeling a warmth spread through him. Of course you did, he thought to himself, you’re the nicest person ever. “That’s… that’s really great, Garcia,” he said with a sincere smile.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Penelope beamed, taking the book back and staring at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Derek chuckled, adding, “Yeah, mama. That girl is a gem. I’m glad someone is treating you good when I’m not around.”

Spencer nodded, his mind lingering on you. It was just another reminder of the kind of person you were, and it made him think even more about what he might be missing out on.

"Something brewing in that big brain?" Emily teased, noticing Spencer had gone quiet, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Hmm?" Spencer responded, looking up at her, momentarily pulled from his reverie.

"Are you okay, Reid?" she tried again, her voice tinged with concern.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... haven't had my coffee yet," he replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

Derek chuckled, sensing Spencer's discomfort. "Rossi just made a new pot. I'll go grab a cup with you, pretty boy."

Spencer nodded gratefully as the two men headed to the breakroom, which was mostly empty, save for a few agents from other departments who were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any mind.

"Do anything fun this weekend?" Derek asked casually as he started making his coffee, glancing over at Spencer with a curious look.

Spencer allowed himself a small smile as he replied, "Yeah, I went to that new bookstore. They had their grand opening."

Derek thought for a moment, then asked, "Did you see Y/N there?"

Spencer's hand froze mid-stir, his expression faltering. "Oh, uh, no," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by the question.

Derek narrowed his eyes, not missing the way Spencer suddenly seemed on edge. "Alright, spit it out, kid," he pressed, sensing there was more to the story.

"Spit what out?" Spencer sassed, attempting to deflect, but his tone lacked conviction.

Derek just sighed, giving him a look that said, Don't bullshit me. "I've noticed you don't necessarily... enjoy Y/N's company. Did you run into her? Was it weird?"

Spencer let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from Derek. "Yeah, I saw her," he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But it wasn't weird. I mean, not exactly. It’s just... complicated."

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to continue. "Complicated how?"

Spencer hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I think she might have overheard me on the phone with Eli... They were supposed to come with me to the bookstore, but they didn’t. I was upset," Spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the hurt in his voice.

Derek softened his gaze, sensing the vulnerability in Spencer’s words. "I’m sorry, man. Did they give a good reason?"

Spencer shrugged again, his eyes welling up as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Um, they said they needed to watch the football game. Something to do with the fantasy league they’re in."

Derek rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. "That is not a good reason. Eli should have known this was important to you."

Spencer cleared his throat, staring intently at his coffee, willing the tears not to fall. "They knew... I don’t know if they cared."

"Reid..." Derek began, his voice gentle, but Spencer quickly waved his hand, cutting him off.

"No, no. It’s fine—we talked about it," Spencer said, his voice wavering but firm, clearly wanting to move past the topic.

Seeing that Spencer didn’t want to delve deeper into the matter, Derek decided to let it go for now, though he still hadn’t gotten the answer to his earlier question. "What does that have to do with Y/N?"

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of his embarrassment pressing down on him. "She was walking past during the end of the call. I think she might have heard me, but she was too polite to say anything. I don’t know… I’m just embarrassed. My own partner wouldn’t show up to something that important to me, and she probably heard how pathetic that sounded."

Derek frowned, his heart going out to his friend. "You’re not pathetic, Reid. You’ve just been dealt a rough hand. And Y/N… well, she’s not the kind of person to judge you for that. If anything, she probably feels bad that you were hurt."

Spencer nodded, though the shame still lingered. "Yeah, maybe. It’s just hard, you know? I don’t want her—or anyone—to see me like that."

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "I get it, man. But Y/N… she’s good people. Maybe talking to her might help, even if it’s just to clear the air."

Spencer considered Derek’s words, the idea of reaching out to you both comforting and terrifying. But deep down, he knew Derek was right. It wasn’t too late to make things right, and maybe—just maybe—you’d be the understanding ear he desperately needed.

After parting ways with Derek, Spencer realized he’d forgotten to mention how you had quietly paid for his books at the bookstore. Wrapped up in the emotions of their conversation, it had slipped his mind. But as he returned to his desk, the memory resurfaced, and he found himself holding onto it like a cherished secret.

Spencer wanted to keep that moment to himself, a private reminder of your kindness. It had meant more to him than words could express, especially in a time when he often felt overlooked. Your simple act of generosity was a bright spot, making him feel seen and cared for in a way he rarely experienced.

—

Thursday evening marked your first date with Shane, and it was everything you had hoped for. They had called earlier in the week to make plans, and you were excited to have someone showing genuine interest and making an effort. Penelope had eagerly offered to help you get ready, her expertise in all things beauty proving invaluable.

"Pen, you’re seriously the best," you gushed as she applied the finishing touches to your look. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Penelope giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Probably show up looking a lot less flamboyant!"

"And we would not want that," you teased with a smile, savoring every moment of girl time with your roommate and best friend.

When Shane arrived to pick you up, they were the epitome of courteousness—opening doors, pulling out your chair, and keeping the conversation lively throughout the evening. It was an amazing first date, made even better by Shane’s undeniable attractiveness. You enjoyed yourself thoroughly, feeling a spark of excitement about where this could lead.

Meanwhile, across the restaurant, Spencer sat at a table with Eli, his view of you unobstructed. What should have been a special anniversary dinner had been overshadowed by the effort it took to even get Eli to agree to go out. Spencer had to beg them to celebrate, with Eli initially resisting, claiming they didn’t want to spend the money. Spencer had insisted it was worth it, that their relationship was worth celebrating. Eli eventually caved, but only because they didn’t want Spencer to start crying—again.

As Spencer watched you laugh and smile with Shane, he felt a sharp pang in his chest, the desire to drown his sorrows in a bottle of wine nearly overwhelming. The contrast between your joyous date and his own crumbling relationship was stark. Eli sat across from him, more interested in checking their fantasy football league stats than in engaging with him.

Of course, you would go on a date with the attractive person from the bookstore. In Spencer’s eyes, they were everything he wasn’t. It made sense that you’d find happiness with someone like that, while he watched his own chances at joy slip further away. It was just another reminder that good things, happiness, were always just out of reach for him. As he sat there, barely holding back his tears, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own choices, the realization that he had pushed away someone who might have brought him the kind of happiness he saw reflected in your smile from across the room.

After Shane paid the bill for your dinner, causing you to swoon at the kind gesture, the two of you walked toward the exit, Shane’s hand resting intimately on your lower back. As you passed by Spencer's table, you couldn’t resist saying hello, the expensive wine Shane had ordered loosening your tongue.

“Spencer! Hi!” you greeted excitedly, your smile wide.

Spencer looked up at you, clearly caught off guard, his expression quickly shifting to a polite smile. “Hello,” he replied, trying to mask his surprise.

“What are you doing here? Is this Eli?” You turned to the person sitting across from him, offering a warm smile.

Eli, however, gave you a cold, sinister look. “Wow, beauty and brains, what a catch,” they remarked snidely, directing their comment at Shane.

The sarcasm completely flew over your head, and you responded cheerfully, “I think you’re pretty too! It’s so nice to meet you, and Spencer, so good to see you! Bye!” You gave a little wave, before taking Shane’s hand and dragging them toward the car, their laughter following behind you. Shane, having had much less to drink, simply smiled, amused by your tipsy enthusiasm.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Spencer grew even more quiet, while Eli’s anger simmered, their face contorting with irritation.

“What the fuck was that?” Eli asked, their voice low and venomous.

Spencer’s head snapped up, startled by the harshness in Eli’s tone. “What? Y/N? She’s drunk,” he replied, trying to defuse the situation, though he felt increasingly uncomfortable under Eli’s glare.

“No shit, Spencer,” Eli scoffed, rolling their eyes with frustration. “But why did they say hi to you?”

Spencer fumbled for an explanation, feeling cornered. “Umm… I guess we’re kind of friends by association?” he offered, his words uncertain, as even he wasn’t sure how to define your relationship.

Eli’s eyes narrowed, their anger intensifying. “I told you not to talk to her. I asked you to do one fucking thing in this relationship—how hard is it to not talk to some dumb bimbo?” they snarled.

Spencer shrank in his seat, feeling like a scolded child. His embarrassment was palpable as he tried to explain, “I can’t help that she’s Penelope’s roommate. I like to be civil.”

“Civil, sure,” Eli spat, their tone dripping with contempt. “But I’m serious, Spencer. Don’t. Fucking. Talk to her.”

Spencer sat there, shrinking further under Eli’s gaze, a sense of helplessness washing over him. The contrast between your cheerful, lighthearted demeanor and Eli’s seething anger left him feeling more isolated than ever. The joy you had shown in such a simple greeting only highlighted the growing chasm between him and his partner, making him question, yet again, why he was holding onto something that felt so toxic and damaging.

—

It was a few weeks before your paths crossed with Spencer again, and during that time, he couldn't help but wonder if Eli had somehow managed to keep you away from him. But today, here you were, standing in the bullpen with Penelope’s phone in hand, panting slightly from your rush to deliver it.

“Y/N! You’re a lifesaver!” Penelope cried out, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laughed, catching your breath. “I don’t even know how you made it out of the house without this thing, I thought it was attached to you!”

Derek and Emily joined in the laughter, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Baby girl was excited to come in today—they gave her a new monitor,” Derek teased, grinning.

“Ohh, show me!” you clapped your hands in excitement, your enthusiasm infectious.

As you followed Penelope to her office, you passed by Spencer’s desk, giving him a soft, “Hi, Spencer,” your voice low and warm.

But Spencer didn’t look up. He simply stared down at the file in front of him, his mind far from his work. Eli’s threat echoed in his head, reminding him that he couldn’t talk to you. The lack of response went unnoticed by everyone except for you and Emily.

After you disappeared into Penelope’s office, Emily walked over to Spencer’s desk, her expression concerned. “Reid…? Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked up, shaking his head as if to brush off her concern. “No,” he replied curtly, but his tone was anything but reassuring.

Emily wasn’t convinced. “Okay, well, it’s just… you ignored Y/N pretty harshly. I think she was just trying to be nice.”

Spencer knew it was an overreaction, but the turmoil in his mind was overwhelming, clouding his judgment. He felt cornered, and before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Oh yeah, Emily? Is that what you think? I’m sure you’re right, seeing as you know everything.”

With that, he abruptly stood up, storming out of the bullpen, leaving Emily and Derek in stunned silence. 

Rossi, who had been quietly working at his desk nearby, looked up, his brow furrowed with concern as he fixed Emily and Derek with a questioning gaze. “Is he using again?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered under his breath, quickly getting up to chase after Spencer, his heart pounding with fear and urgency. 

Emily exchanged a worried glance with Rossi, both of them hoping that whatever was going on with Spencer could be addressed before it spiraled out of control.

"Reid, wait up!" Derek called out as he watched Spencer stride quickly down the hall, his pace fueled by frustration and confusion. Spencer, too caught up in his thoughts, didn’t stop or even acknowledge Derek's voice. But Derek was determined, and he quickened his pace, finally catching up to Spencer and grabbing his arm, halting him in his tracks.

"Kid, I need you to tell me right here and now if you’re using again," Derek panted, his concern clear in his voice.

Spencer's face immediately morphed into one of shock and offense. "What? No! I’m clean," he replied, his tone defensive but honest.

Derek sighed deeply, relief flooding him. "Okay, thank God."

Spencer frowned, still reeling from the accusation. "Why would you think that?"

Derek looked at him intently. "Did you hear yourself just now? You were out of line with Prentiss. She was only trying to help."

Spencer let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and sharp. "Isn’t that what everyone wants to do? Help poor, defenseless Spencer," he said sarcastically. "Why can’t I ever just take care of myself?"

Derek gave him a sympathetic look, his concern deepening. "That’s not what I meant. I’m just worried about you. Is it more stuff with Eli?"

The mention of Eli’s name set Spencer off again, the anger bubbling back to the surface. "Christ, is there no privacy anymore?" he snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

Derek held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I’m not trying to invade your privacy, man. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been off lately, and I’m concerned. We all are."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "It’s… nothing, Derek."

Derek nodded, his tone softening. "It doesn’t seem like nothing, kid."

Spencer looked down, his voice small and almost defeated. "Can you just… stop being a big brother for a second?"

Derek’s expression softened even more as he asked gently, "Who do you want me to be?"

Spencer let out a weary sigh. "I don’t know… a wizard? Then maybe you could help me go back in time."

Derek started to ask, "Why do you need–" but before he could finish, his phone rang, the familiar tone signaling a new case. He glanced at the screen, then back at Spencer with a resigned look. "Time to go."

Spencer nodded, the moment slipping away as the reality of their work took precedence. But as they walked back toward the bullpen, Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface—something that Spencer wasn’t ready to share yet.

—

When the team arrived back from the case, Spencer dreaded going home. He hadn't talked to Eli since the day they left, sending only a brief text to let them know he was heading out on a case and another just now to inform them he was back. But as usual, there were no messages waiting for him in return. Eli had done this before—the silent treatment. It was their way of letting Spencer know he had messed up, though the reason was often unclear until Eli decided to spell it out.

As Spencer approached his front door, the familiar feeling of anxiety settled in his chest. He knew what awaited him: the cold, silent disapproval from Eli, followed by the inevitable confrontation. It was why he was dreading going home, but there was no avoiding it.

When Spencer unlocked the front door, he was greeted by the sound of football blaring from the TV, and not much else. The usual signs of Eli’s presence—a drink on the coffee table, their shoes kicked off haphazardly—were all there, but the silence from Eli themselves was telling. 

He announced his presence quietly, hoping to gauge the mood before he ventured further into the house. Without much of a response, Spencer headed to the laundry room, deciding to busy himself with washing his clothes. It was a mundane task, but it gave him something to focus on, a way to delay the inevitable confrontation.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting was for Eli to suddenly come up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. The affectionate gesture caught him off guard.

“Hey, baby,” Eli whispered, their voice soft and intimate.

“He–hey, Eli,” Spencer stammered, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t tell if this was going to lead to something good or if it was just a precursor to another argument.

“I missed you while you were gone,” Eli mumbled, their lips trailing across Spencer’s neck, planting gentle kisses along his skin.

“Yeah?” Spencer sighed, tilting his head slightly to give Eli more access, his body instinctively responding to the affection despite the uncertainty gnawing at him.

“Mhm, it’s so lonely here without you,” Eli murmured, continuing their gentle assault of kisses.

That evening, Spencer found himself in the company of a sweet, loving, and cherishing Eli. It was a side of his partner he didn’t see often, and he was left wondering what he had done to deserve this sudden tenderness. But instead of questioning it, he allowed himself to be swept up in the rare affection, choosing to savor the moment rather than dwell on the why.

For that night, at least, Spencer let himself believe that everything was okay, that maybe this time things would be different. Even if it was just for a little while, he wasn’t going to complain.

—

You got a mysterious text from Shane, asking if they could come over to talk. You agreed, of course, but a nervous feeling settled in your stomach. Things had been going really well between the two of you—multiple dates, kisses, and they had even met Penelope. But as you opened the door to let them in, you immediately sensed that this wasn’t going to be good news.

"Hey, Y/N," Shane greeted with a sigh, giving you a sad smile. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter, trying to brace yourself for whatever was coming. The two of you sat in the chairs by the window, the tension palpable as you waited for Shane to speak.

"What’s up, Shane?" you asked cautiously, your heart already preparing for the worst.

Shane sighed again, scratching the back of their head, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I really respect you, so I felt it was only fair to tell you face to face... that I met someone. Someone I want to pursue things with exclusively."

Your heart sank. Of course, the one genuine person you meet found someone better than you. "Oh," was all you could manage to say, the word barely escaping your lips as you processed the rejection.

"I’m sorry, Y/N," Shane continued, their expression full of pity. "You’re a lovely person, and I really enjoyed our time together. But I just—"

"You don’t have to explain," you interrupted, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile despite the ache building in your chest. "I get it."

Shane frowned, clearly feeling bad, but they didn’t push further. They stood, clearly sensing that it was time to leave. "I really do wish you the best, Y/N. You deserve someone amazing."

You nodded, but the words felt hollow in the space between you. After you closed the door behind them, you sank into your chair, the weight of disappointment settling heavily on your shoulders. You hadn’t expected this, and now you were left alone, wondering why this always seemed to happen—just when things seemed to be going well, they unraveled.

As you sat there, staring blankly out the window, the weight of the rejection settled deep into your chest. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen, but the familiar voice of self-doubt crept in, louder and sharper than ever. Of course they found someone better. Why wouldn’t they?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was always you—never enough, never quite the right fit. You replayed the last few weeks in your mind, analyzing every detail, every moment, searching for where you might have fallen short. Maybe you weren’t interesting enough, not exciting enough, not worth sticking around for. 

What if I’m just not the kind of person people choose? The thought gnawed at you, sinking deeper into your mind. Every small flaw, every insecurity felt magnified, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just how things would always be. Always second place. Always left behind.

—

Meanwhile, everything between Spencer and Eli seemed to improve dramatically. Eli was suddenly attentive in ways Spencer hadn’t experienced in a long time. They bought Spencer flowers, cooked him dinner, and even made an effort to engage in the things Spencer loved—whether it was sitting with him through documentaries or accompanying him on long walks through the city.

Spencer wasn’t sure what had sparked this radical change in Eli, but he didn’t dare question it. Part of him was afraid that if he asked, the magic would break, and everything would go back to the way it was before—the cold indifference, the emotional distance. For now, he clung to the fleeting happiness, allowing himself to believe that maybe this was the turning point he had been waiting for. 

But in the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered that good things never lasted for him, and any moment, it could all disappear. He knew better than to get comfortable, but for now, he basked in the attention, unwilling to let go of this brief glimpse of a perfect relationship.

Eli had never been one for grand gestures, but lately, everything felt different. Spencer came home one evening to find a bouquet of brightly colored flowers on the kitchen table, their fragrance filling the room. 

"Hey, you’re home!" Eli called from the kitchen, a warm smile on their face as they stirred something on the stove. "I made your favorite—pasta with garlic bread. Thought you might like something comforting after your day."

Spencer blinked, his mind racing as he tried to process the shift. He set his bag down, cautiously approaching the flowers. "You… got these for me?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

Eli chuckled and walked over to him, wiping their hands on a dish towel before wrapping their arms around his waist. "Of course, I did. You deserve it, Spencie."

Spencer smiled, though his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. This wasn’t like Eli at all. "I… thank you. They’re beautiful." He leaned down to smell the flowers, a wave of warmth flooding him, but a lingering doubt hovered at the back of his mind.

Later that week, they were sitting together on the couch, something they rarely did. Eli had insisted on watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries, something about ancient civilizations that Spencer would usually watch alone.

"I never knew this stuff was so interesting," Eli commented, their head resting on Spencer’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you make me watch this with you sooner?"

Spencer looked down at them, unsure of how to respond. "I didn’t think it was really your thing," he admitted, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Eli’s shirt. "You’ve never really… wanted to before."

Eli sat up slightly, turning to face Spencer, their hand coming to rest on his knee. "Well, I want to now," they said, smiling softly.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the words, but the confusion deepened. This was everything he had wanted from Eli for so long, but the sudden shift left him off-balance. Still, he wasn’t ready to question it—not when things were finally good. He forced himself to smile back, leaning in to kiss Eli’s forehead. 

"I appreciate that," he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I just…I’m happy."

Eli kissed him softly on the lips, pulling him closer. "I love you, Spencie," they murmured, their words sweet and tender. "And I want to make sure you know that."

Spencer wrapped his arms around them, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. He wanted to ask what had caused this change, what had made Eli suddenly decide to be the partner he had always hoped for. But the fear of losing this fleeting happiness kept him silent. He wasn’t ready to risk it all, not yet.

—

Penelope had been watching you closely for days, her eyes filled with concern. She knew something was wrong, but you had been keeping your walls up, retreating further into your sadness after things fell apart with Shane. Every attempt she made to drag you out of the apartment had been met with a firm, “I’m just not feeling up to it, Pen.”

But Penelope wasn’t one to give up so easily. "Come on, honey, you can’t just sit here and stew over that idiot forever," she urged, practically bouncing on her feet. "We need to go out, have some fun, and remind the world who the hell we are!"

"I don’t know…" you trailed off, glancing at the TV as though it had something to offer. But you knew it didn’t. You just didn’t have the energy.

"Y/N," Penelope said firmly, placing her hands on her hips, "I love you, but sitting in pajamas while watching reality shows for the third night in a row is not how we get over this. You are coming with me."

You sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to relent. "Fine," you groaned, finally giving in.

Penelope’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes! Shower, now. I’m doing your makeup, and we are going to paint the town red!"

It wasn’t long before she had you dolled up, feeling like a different version of yourself. The two of you hit the town with one goal: to get drunk and forget all about stupid people like Shane. JJ, Emily, and Derek met up with you at the bar, and soon you were all dancing up a storm. The music, the energy, and the friends surrounding you were doing exactly what Penelope had intended—they were lifting you out of your funk.

You loved the attention you were getting, and it was absolutely helping you feel better about everything that had happened. The compliments, the laughs, the warmth of your friends—it was like a balm to the hurt you had been carrying.

After a while, you started feeling parched from all the dancing, so you drifted away from the group to grab some water at the bar. As you reached the counter, you bumped into someone.

"Oh, I’m sorry," you yelped, turning quickly to see who it was you’d run into.

To your surprise, the body turned around, and there, standing in front of you, was Eli. Your stomach dropped slightly, expecting some snide remark, a cutting comment like the ones you’d heard before.

But instead, Eli let out a light laugh. "No problem!" they said with a smile, their tone unusually friendly.

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected response. Even Spencer, standing next to Eli, looked just as surprised, his brow furrowed slightly at Eli’s easygoing attitude toward you.

"Uh… thanks," you said, forcing a polite smile, still not entirely sure what to make of the encounter.

Eli nodded, still smiling, before turning back to their drink, leaving you standing there, feeling slightly bewildered. You couldn’t help but glance at Spencer, who gave you a small, almost apologetic smile, as if to acknowledge how strange the moment had been.

The interaction left you feeling a bit off-kilter, but as you grabbed your water and headed back to the dance floor, you pushed the weirdness aside. Tonight was about you, about having fun and moving on. Whatever Eli’s sudden kindness meant, you weren’t going to let it throw you off track.

Soon, you couldn’t just brush off the strange interaction because, much to your surprise, Spencer and Eli joined the rest of you on the dance floor. It was a sight you hadn’t expected.

“Whoa, pretty boy! I didn’t think you’d show!” Derek cheered, clearly having invited Spencer without anyone else knowing.

Spencer gave a half-smile, looking awkward as he stood on the outskirts of the group. “Yeah, uh… Eli thought it would be fun,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his discomfort obvious.

“Well, loosen up, genius!” Emily called out, playfully nudging him. “We’re here to have fun.”

Eli, however, had no problem jumping right in, grabbing Spencer by the hips and guiding him into the rhythm of the music. Spencer’s movement was stilted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but Eli didn’t seem to mind, dancing all around him, their hands sliding over his shoulders and down his sides. The contrast between Spencer’s stiff posture and Eli’s free-spirited movements made for an interesting sight.

You tried to brush it off, but the more you watched, the more an odd sense of jealousy began to brew in your chest. It’s just because I’m newly single, you told yourself, trying to rationalize the pang of envy. But it didn’t feel that simple, and as you watched Eli spin Spencer with a grin, you couldn’t help but wonder why it bothered you so much.

Penelope noticed your mood shift immediately, her eyes following your gaze. She knew you too well, and it wasn’t long before she saw you slipping off the dance floor, making your way outside for some air. She wasn’t surprised at all—you needed a moment to clear your head.

What did surprise you, though, was when the door opened a few minutes later, and Spencer stepped out, his hands shoved into his pockets as he came to stand next to you. The cool night air felt refreshing against your heated skin, but Spencer’s presence made your heart race slightly, unsure of what to say or do.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence hanging between you like a thread waiting to be pulled.

“You okay?” Spencer finally asked, his voice soft as he looked at you, the concern clear in his expression.

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Yeah, just needed some air. It was getting a little... crowded in there.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze drifting down the street before returning to you. “Yeah, I get that,” he said quietly. He shifted his weight, looking almost as uncomfortable out here as he did on the dance floor.

You glanced over at him, curiosity tugging at you. “You don’t really seem like a club guy,” you said, half teasing.

Spencer chuckled awkwardly, his shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “I’m not,” he admitted. “I, uh, don’t really dance. Eli’s more into that.”

You nodded, watching him for a moment. There was something in his eyes—something that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely thrilled to be out here either.

“Eli seems really into it,” you said, testing the waters, unsure why you even brought it up.

Spencer’s smile faltered for a split second before he nodded again. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice quieter this time. He didn’t elaborate, and the silence between you grew, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to address.

After a moment, you decided to break the tension. “I didn’t expect to see you out tonight.”

Spencer chuckled softly, kicking at a loose pebble with his shoe. “I didn’t expect to be out, to be honest,” he admitted. “But, well... here I am.”

You smiled, feeling a strange connection in that shared sentiment. “Yeah, here we are.”

Spencer didn’t know why he followed you. Maybe it was the way you quietly slipped away from the group, or maybe it was something deeper—a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, like an invisible string pulling him after you. He had hesitated for a moment, glancing at Eli before deciding he needed to step outside.

“Hey, uh... is it okay if I step out for some air?” Spencer asked, trying to sound casual.

Eli’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to him. “With Y/N?” they asked, their tone neutral, but it made Spencer catch his breath, suddenly nervous that Eli might get upset in front of everyone.

Spencer swallowed hard. “Is that... okay?” he asked tentatively, trying to gauge Eli’s reaction.

Eli’s face softened, a sweet smile forming as they nodded. “Yeah, Spencie! Go check on your friend.”

Relief washed over Spencer, though a small knot of confusion lingered. Eli’s sudden sweetness left him feeling a bit unsettled, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he gave a small smile in return before quietly making his way outside to join you.

As he stood next to you in the cool night air, the questions he had about Eli faded, replaced by an inexplicable need to be there with you, to share this quiet moment away from the chaos of the night.

You and Spencer remained side by side, chatting politely, both enjoying the quiet reprieve from the crowd inside. The cool night air felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm chaos of the dance floor.

“Are you, uh—still seeing that person from the other week?” Spencer asked awkwardly, his words stumbling out as he glanced at you.

You stiffened slightly at the mention of Shane, the wound still fresh, not something you wanted to discuss right now, especially not here. "No," you said simply, hoping to leave it at that.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away before he coughed. "Oh," he mumbled, then added, "I’m sorry. They’re an idiot."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his words cutting through some of the lingering pain. "Thank you," you said softly, genuinely appreciating his attempt to comfort you.

Spencer nodded, and when he finally looked at you, something in his expression changed. His eyes locked with yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. He realized in that instant that what he felt looking into your eyes—this connection, this spark—was stronger than anything he’d ever felt with Eli. Every moment he had shared with Eli over the course of their relationship paled in comparison to what he felt standing there with you now.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave, both exhilarating and terrifying. He wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling, and the fear of what it meant gripped him tightly. Spencer wasn’t ready to confront it, but in that moment, he knew something had shifted between the two of you. And that scared him more than anything.

—

The next time you saw him, Eli was by his side once again. The team was gathered to celebrate Aaron Hotchner’s birthday with a fancy dinner followed by a play, and the atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and easy conversation. The dinner had been delicious, and everyone was in high spirits as you all made your way to the theater, excitement buzzing in the air.

Finding your seats, you realized the universe must have been playing some sort of twisted joke. The numbers on your tickets had placed you directly next to Spencer. It seemed innocent enough—JJ was on your other side, and Eli sat beside Spencer—but the proximity between you two felt charged in a way that was hard to ignore.

The lights dimmed, and the show began, captivating the audience almost immediately. You focused on the performance, but you had no idea that Spencer's mind was far from the stage. Since the moment you walked into the restaurant tonight, Spencer’s mind had been a chaotic kaleidoscope of images of you. The way you looked, the way you moved, the sound of your laugh—it was overwhelming.

Sitting so close to you now, he felt a primal, almost feral need stirring inside him, something he'd never experienced so intensely before. It was beyond mere attraction; it was hunger. He could barely focus on the play as his thoughts drifted to you again and again.

Spencer’s chest tightened with guilt as his mind began slipping away from innocent thoughts. At first, his musings were harmless, but they quickly escalated to PG-13, and then further, to places he had never allowed himself to go before. He couldn’t shake it, this wild, uncontrollable pull toward you. He wanted to tear his thoughts away, but every fiber of his being was hyper-aware of your presence next to him.

It was horrible—he felt like he was betraying Eli, even though the thoughts stayed locked inside his own head. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to suppress the desire building within him. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not when Eli was sitting right next to him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the intense attraction coursing through his body. The guilt gnawed at him, but the desire burned even stronger.

He felt trapped, stuck between the relationship he had and the undeniable draw he felt toward you. And in that dark theater, surrounded by his friends, Spencer’s thoughts were anything but innocent.

During intermission, Spencer excused himself, practically fleeing to the restroom. Once there, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to wash away the guilty, indecent thoughts that had plagued him throughout the first half of the play. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, staring at his reflection, trying to regain control of himself.

Meanwhile, you headed to the concession stand, grabbing a lemonade. It came with a straw, which you twirled absentmindedly as you made your way back to your seat. You settled in, sipping slowly as everyone found their spots again.

When Spencer returned and sat next to you, he tried to focus on anything but you—the play, Eli, anything—but his eyes kept drifting to your lips as you wrapped them around the straw, sipping your drink. The way you casually sipped, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him, made his throat dry.

You noticed his lingering gaze and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small smile. "Want a sip?" you offered, holding the drink out toward him, your voice teasing but light.

Spencer hesitated for a second, knowing that accepting it would be a bad idea. But then again, what harm could one sip do? "Sure," he replied, his voice low, almost strained.

Instead of taking the cup from your hand, Spencer leaned over, resting his hand lightly on your thigh as he bent toward you. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and your breath hitched as he brought his lips to the straw still clasped in your hand. He took a slow sip, his hand remaining firmly in place, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

Your face flushed a deep crimson, the simple act of him drinking from the same straw suddenly charged with an intimacy you hadn’t anticipated. You glanced quickly at Eli, but they were preoccupied, furiously typing away on their phone, not even noticing what was happening between you and Spencer.

As the lights flickered, signaling the end of intermission, Spencer pulled back, the drink slipping from his lips, but his hand stayed where it was, resting warmly on your thigh. The lights dimmed once more, and the play resumed, but Spencer’s touch remained, grounding you in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

Neither of you said a word, but the unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavier than ever. You didn’t dare move, and neither did he. And as the minutes passed, you could feel the weight of that moment, the quiet acknowledgement that whatever was happening between you was more than just fleeting glances or stolen moments.

Spencer’s hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the show, and you tried to rationalize it. It’s probably just the wine he had with dinner, you thought, convincing yourself he was just feeling a bit more friendly than usual. After all, the two of you had bonded that night at the club, and maybe this was just an extension of that. Still, the warmth of his hand lingered longer than it should have, sending ripples of confusion through you.

When the lights came back on and the play ended, you quickly stood, clapping in applause and efficiently removing Spencer’s hand from your leg. You didn’t want to dwell on it, but the moment left you feeling uneasy. As the theater cleared, the group gathered outside to say their goodbyes, but you found yourself avoiding Spencer’s gaze.

Leaning over to Penelope, you whispered, "I’m not feeling so great. I think I need to head out."

Concern flashed across her face, but she didn’t question you. "Of course, babe. Let’s go."

After wishing Aaron a happy birthday, you and Penelope left before you could make any eye contact with Spencer. Your thoughts raced as you hurried away, unsure why he had acted the way he did. You didn’t hate what had happened, and that made it worse. He has a partner, you reminded yourself, the guilt settling heavily in your chest.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Eli made their way home as well. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension, but when they arrived, Eli wasted no time initiating an intimate night. Spencer let it happen, going through the motions as his mind drifted back to you. He felt a surge of guilt and self-loathing. As Eli’s hands moved over him, Spencer’s thoughts were filled with the image of you, your laughter, the feel of your thigh beneath his palm. It made him feel like a monster, like he was betraying not only Eli, but you as well.

But what Spencer didn’t realize was that he wasn’t the only one with someone else on his mind. As Eli kissed him, their thoughts weren’t on Spencer either. The unspoken fractures in their relationship were growing wider, with both of them secretly imagining someone else, locked in a cycle of unaddressed desires and unvoiced doubts.

—

It was October now, and Halloween was rapidly approaching—Spencer's favorite time of year and his absolute favorite holiday. The excitement had been building for weeks, and it was palpable. He loved everything about Halloween—the history, the traditions, and, of course, the chance to dress up and lose himself in the festive spirit.

But as the holiday approached, so did the Halloween party you and Penelope were throwing. The entire team had been invited, along with their partners and a few other friends. It was going to be a night full of fun, laughter, and celebration, and you couldn't wait to show everyone the apartment, which was fully decked out in spooky decorations. 

Though you were looking forward to the party, there was one thought that kept crossing your mind: Spencer. He’d be there, of course, with Eli by his side. It was hard to shake the feeling that no matter how much time had passed since that strange, tension-filled evening at the theater, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The truth was, you knew you couldn’t have him—he was spoken for, and no matter what had happened or hadn’t happened, he was off-limits.

But that didn’t stop you from hoping your costume might catch his eye.

You’d spent extra time picking out the perfect outfit—something that was fun and playful, but with just enough edge to make an impression. Part of you wondered if he would notice, if he would look at you the way he had during the play. Even though you knew it was dangerous territory, the thought lingered in the back of your mind.

As you finished adjusting the final Halloween decorations, you glanced around the apartment, satisfied with how everything had turned out. The anticipation of the party and seeing everyone—especially Spencer—left a mix of excitement and nervousness brewing inside you.

One night, you thought. One night to celebrate, to have fun. Just let it be enough.

By the time people started arriving, your apartment had been fully transformed into a Halloween wonderland. The living room is draped in warm, spooky hues of purple and orange, with bats hanging from the ceiling and a wreath made of autumn leaves and tiny pumpkins framing the window. The couches are decorated with plush pillows and blankets, and a coffee table sits adorned with jack-o'-lanterns, flickering with eerie candlelight, surrounded by scattered fall leaves.

The hallway leading to the party area is wrapped in dark, twisting branches and shimmering orange lights, creating a haunting yet whimsical path. A skeleton sits at the dining table, illuminated by the warm glow of string lights that crisscross overhead, casting playful shadows along the walls.

Further in, an archway framed with grinning pumpkins welcomes guests into a dining area, bathed in the glow of purple lights. Jack-o'-lanterns of all shapes and sizes line the walls, giving the space a playful but eerie ambiance. It’s the kind of atmosphere that will make the party unforgettable, setting the perfect tone for the night.

You and Penelope stood by the door, greeting your guests as they entered your neon-lit, spooky apartment, handing out glowing necklaces as a fun touch to set the party's mood. Amid the excitement and stress of hosting, you nearly forgot that Spencer would be walking through that door any minute now. Your thoughts had been focused on making sure everything was perfect, greeting the steady stream of guests, and keeping the energy light and fun.

Just as you were handing another glowing necklace to a guest, the front door burst open, and in strolled Derek, as confident as ever, with Emily on one arm and JJ on the other. Emily looked striking in her sleek Morticia Addams costume, with her sharp features highlighted by her dark makeup, and JJ exuded playful fierceness in her Kill Bill-inspired outfit. Penelope, as usual, was a burst of color and creativity in her neon-pink, revealing Alice in Wonderland-esc cat costume.

Derek, dressed as a dashing fighter pilot, took one look at you and Penelope, his eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “Wow! My god, you gorgeous ladies are gonna give me a heart attack!” he playfully swooned, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. 

Penelope grinned, striking a pose next to you, her Cheshire cat grin almost matching the one she had painted on her face. "Careful, Morgan. You might need to be resuscitated."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, but your heart fluttered slightly as you realized that any moment, Spencer would be walking in, and you wondered what he would think when he saw you in your costume.

The whole team had arrived about 20 minutes ago, with everyone dressed to impress, save for Spencer. You couldn’t help but worry he wasn’t going to come, despite his excitement about Halloween. You tried to stay positive, especially since everyone else seemed to be in good spirits. Even Hotch and Rossi had put in some effort, dressing up as Men in Black, though it was hardly a stretch from their usual look—very creative you thought with a smirk.

The party had started in full swing, laughter and music filling the room, but you couldn’t shake the slight disappointment. What if he doesn’t show?

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Without thinking, you crossed the room and swung it open, your jaw practically hitting the floor when you saw who was standing on the other side.

There, in all his unnervingly handsome glory, was Spencer—no Eli in sight. He was dressed as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, complete with a suit, raincoat, and an ax slung over his shoulder. His normally disheveled hair was slicked back, and the blood splatter across his face made him look dangerously alluring. You could feel your heart stutter in your chest.

You stood there with your hand still on the door, staring at him for far too long to be socially acceptable. But Spencer wasn’t faring much better. His eyes had widened when he saw you in your Ghostface costume—though this was your take of the infamous killer, your fitted corset and thigh-high slit showing more than enough to leave Spencer speechless.

His lips parted slightly, the two of you caught in an awkward, electrifying silence. Neither of you moved or spoke, both seemingly frozen in the moment. You tried to find something to say, but your brain refused to cooperate. He looked breathtaking, and from the look in his eyes, you were certain he thought the same about you.

"Uh… wow," Spencer finally managed, his voice low, almost reverent.

You blinked, snapping out of your trance and feeling your cheeks heat up. "Spencer… you… look…" You trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes roamed over his form again.

"Yeah," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your costume. "You too." He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly but never taking his eyes off you.

You stepped aside, finally remembering your manners. "Come in," you said, your voice breathless.

As he walked past you, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“Boy wonder!” Penelope squealed as she caught sight of Spencer walking into the party. Her arms flung open dramatically before pulling him into a big squeeze. 

"Hey, Pen, great party!" Spencer laughed, his voice warm as he returned her embrace.

JJ approached, tilting her head curiously. "Where’s Eli?"

Spencer didn’t seem fazed by the question as he shrugged casually. "Oh, their friend is having a party tonight too. They might stop by later, but I wouldn’t count on it," he replied with a small laugh, seemingly unbothered by Eli’s absence.

Derek, being a sharp observer of Spencer’s moods, raised an eyebrow. “...And you’re cool with this?”

Spencer just smiled brightly, brushing it off with a light chuckle. “Yup! We don’t have to do everything together.” He laughed again, the sound easygoing and relaxed.

Everyone seemed to accept his answer, nodding along before the party really began to kick into gear. Laughter and conversation flowed easily around the room, the energy of the Halloween festivities keeping everyone entertained.

But despite the natural rhythm of the night, you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Something about Spencer seemed off—not in a bad way, but different. He seemed almost too happy that Eli hadn’t joined him. There was something about his energy, a lightness that hadn’t been there before, and the more you watched him throughout the evening, the more you wondered what was really going on beneath that bright smile of his.

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when the sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention. Without hesitation, you glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer standing there. Instinctively, you turned to face him, not wanting to give him the chance to sneak up on you.

"Hello, Spencer," you greeted with a warm smile, trying to mask the sudden nervous energy that surged through you.

"Y/N," he nodded, stepping a little closer. "You know, maybe we should team up. Might make things easier," he added with a smirk, his costume and demeanor making him look every bit the psycho he was dressed as. The sight of him like that sent your heart racing, and to your dismay, you found yourself stuttering.

"Wh–what? You, an–an–me?"

Spencer just laughed, the sound low and amused. "Ghostface and Patrick Bateman? We’d make quite the team."

You chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "Oh, hah, yeah, you’re right. So, um, who’s our first victim?" you asked, playing along with the joke.

Spencer rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… I’d say we start with the Men in Black. Take out the authority first."

You couldn’t help it—the laugh that erupted from you was genuine and loud, a real cackle that caught you off guard. You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by how loud it was.

But before you could fully hide, Spencer reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, lowering your hand. "Don’t cover up," he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. "I like your laugh."

His touch sent a warm shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, something unspoken hanging between you both. You smiled, the blush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the sudden intimacy.

"Thanks," you murmured, your heart thudding in your chest, the moment feeling far more charged than a simple Halloween joke should have been.

You cleared your throat, turning back to focus on your drink, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "So, um, how do we take them out?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light and playful.

Spencer tapped his chin in mock thought before flashing you a mischievous smirk. "Let's make it a game," he said, his voice low, adding to the playful tension between you. "We have to turn off their glowing necklaces without them noticing. If you’re successful, you get a point. Most points by the end of the night wins."

You grinned at the idea, nodding in agreement. "Alright, you’re on."

And just like that, the game began. You and Spencer spent the rest of the evening sneaking around the party, laughing and conspiring together like mischievous children. You’d catch each other’s eye from across the room, silently plotting, and then spring into action, working to stealthily turn off people’s glowing necklaces without them noticing.

Every time one of you was successful, you’d stifle giggles, slipping back into the crowd with a triumphant grin. The whole dynamic between you and Spencer had shifted into something new—something light, fun, and undeniably flirtatious. Your shared laughter echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the other guests.

It didn’t take long for people to notice the change. Derek raised an eyebrow at the two of you, watching as you and Spencer darted around with smiles and whispered jokes. JJ and Emily exchanged knowing glances, clearly curious about this unexpected shift in your relationship. Even Penelope caught on, throwing you a sly look that said she’d definitely be asking you about this later.

Everyone seemed to be wondering the same thing: Since when did these two get along so well?

But you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you were having fun—real fun—with Spencer. And, despite the attention from everyone else, you weren’t ready for it to stop.

—

As the night wrapped up, the energy was still buzzing. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and the party had been a huge success. You felt a sense of pride as you waved goodbye to your guests, making sure everyone had a designated driver or had called a cab. Once the last person had left, you closed the door, feeling the peaceful silence settle in.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

Penelope wasted no time, immediately bombarding you with questions, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Okay, spill! What was that? You and Boy Wonder sneaking around, giggling like a couple of high schoolers? Since when are you and Spencer all… flirty?!"

You laughed, still riding the high of the evening, but you could see the concern in Penelope’s eyes. She leaned in closer, her expression softening as she lowered her voice. "Look, I loved seeing you have fun tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that," she admitted, "but I just want you to be careful. Spencer and Eli seem very happy together, and I don’t want you getting hurt."

You hesitated, knowing she was right. "I know, Pen," you sighed. "It’s just… it was harmless fun, you know? Nothing serious."

Penelope gave you a look, the one that said she wasn’t buying it. "I just don’t want you caught up in something messy," she said softly. "You deserve someone who’s all in, not someone who’s already got someone else."

You nodded, appreciating her concern, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the way Spencer had looked at you tonight, the way you’d both laughed together like nothing else mattered.

Meanwhile, Spencer drove home in silence, not having had a single drink all night. His mind was still racing from the party, the memories of sneaking around with you and laughing filling his head. The evening had been… unexpected. He couldn’t deny that he’d had fun, maybe more fun than he’d had in a while.

When he pulled into the parking garage, he noticed Eli’s car wasn’t there. He assumed they were still out, maybe spending the night at their friend’s place. It wasn’t unusual for Eli to stay out late when they were with friends, and Spencer didn’t give it much thought as he unlocked the front door and walked inside.

He moved through the apartment quietly, heading down the hall to the bedroom. But what he didn’t expect—what stopped him dead in his tracks—was the sight that greeted him when he opened the bedroom door.

There, in his bed, was Eli. And they weren’t alone.

It took a moment for Spencer’s brain to register what he was seeing, but when it did, the shock hit him like a tidal wave. The person with Eli—the one tangled up in the sheets, very clearly entwined with his partner—was none other than Shane, the same person who had taken you on a date.

His heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the betrayal sank in, the scene before him twisting his stomach into knots.

Shane looked up at the sound of the door opening, pulling away from Eli and quickly covering both of them with the blankets, their face contorting into a mix of shock and confusion.

“What the hell?” Shane yelled, voice panicked.

That finally snapped Spencer out of his state of shock. “What the hell? What the hell! Get out of my fucking bed!” he screamed, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

“Your bed?” Shane’s face instantly fell, their eyes darting to Eli, whose expression was now cold, almost indifferent. “Are you married?” Shane asked, their voice trembling with fear and disbelief.

Eli scoffed, pushing themselves out of bed, making no effort to cover up. “No,” they said with a lazy shrug, “this is Spencer.”

“And who is Spencer?” Shane asked, sounding utterly heartbroken.

Spencer’s voice trembled with emotion as he stood frozen in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah, Eli... who is Spencer?”

Eli rolled their eyes, casually pulling on a robe, unfazed by the entire situation. “My partner,” they said dismissively, as if it meant nothing.

“What?” Shane cried out, turning to Spencer, tears streaming down their face. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. We—we’ve been seeing each other for weeks.” Shane’s voice cracked with guilt and devastation.

Spencer felt like he should have been more hurt by the revelation, but the truth was, Shane’s emotional investment was far greater than his own. He saw now why Eli had been so suddenly attentive and kind—there had been someone else.

“It’s—it’s fine,” Spencer muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to keep it together. “I’ll, um, I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. Eli, let’s talk later, okay?”

Eli just nodded, entirely unaffected. “Cool.”

With that, Spencer grabbed a few things and left the apartment, feeling numb and hollow.

—

Back at your place, you and Penelope were still sitting on the couch, talking about the party, when there was a sudden knock at the door. You exchanged a curious look, not expecting anyone else to stop by at this hour.

Penelope shot up, tiptoeing over to the door and peeking through the peephole. She gasped loudly before rushing back to you, whispering in a hurried panic, “It’s Spencer!” And then, without any warning, she dashed off to her bedroom, the unmistakable sound of the door locking echoing through the apartment.

You let out a long sigh, standing up and making your way over to the door, wondering what could have brought Spencer here so late. You expected him to say he’d forgotten his phone or maybe just needed something small.

But when you opened the door, Spencer didn’t say a word.

He didn’t ask for anything, didn’t explain himself. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes heavy with emotion, and before you could even react, he reached out, grabbing your face gently but with a sense of urgency. Then, without hesitation, Spencer pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and full of longing.

The world seemed to stop in that moment, your heart pounding as the warmth of his lips consumed you, every thought and question vanishing into the kiss.

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

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[imaginesig]

“I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU + Written parts

You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?

Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”

I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.

~~~

A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.

In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.

In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?

Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”

“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”

“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.

“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.

“Y/n” kimi whines.

“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.

Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.

With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.

~~~

yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others

yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴

tagged: no one

Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖

yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you

user1 my fav intern 😍😍

user2 she always delivers 👏👏

user8 and grinds until the end everyday

landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt

yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment

landonorris proud of your work always!!

yn_norris🫶🫶🫶

martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!

maya_weug lovely panel❤️🏎️

hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!

user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post

user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???

user5 he stays in her likes

user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar

user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship

user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track

load more

~~~

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.

With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.

“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.

“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”

“Pretty right,” he says.

“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.

“How do you wanna pose?”

“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.

“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”

We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.

“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.

“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”

“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.

I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.

Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.

~~~

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others

oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere

tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris

yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”

landonorris you twat

yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…

oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys

landonorris we only made a couple…

oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours

user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO

user2 they were ready to square up

yn_norris I kicked his ass

user2 OMG SHE REPLIED

user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹

user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such

user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group

Load more

kimi.antonelli

Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others

Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏

tagged:no one

olliebearman 💪💪

Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎

user1 happy with the results this weekend!!

user2 ok scenic shot

user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect

user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?

user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…

user6 ok grandma get back to bed

Load more

Yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others

Yn_norris: España, mi amor

Tagged: lilyzniemer

oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t

yn_norris cry me a river

landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨

yn_norris choke

carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️

yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!

Riabish gorgeous!!

abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you

yn_norris 💋💋

user1 she ate this up

user2 first pic >>>>>

Load more

yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶

Replies:

landonorris

who what when where why

idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved

wdym “idk”

Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram

I have a plan no fear

🙄

Kimi.antonelli

I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too

I can see that

so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from

as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee

not happening

lmao ok

Not my hill to die on

I love you

I love you too, have a great day

Oscarpiastri

your bother is pacing

Lmao good

Let him squirm

Yes ma’am 🫡

~~~

The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.

When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.

“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.

“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”

“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”

“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.

“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.

“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.

“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.

I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”

Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.

“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”

“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”

“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.

“I love you Lan.”

“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”

We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.

~~~

f1updates

Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others

f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris

used1 WHAT

user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card

used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie

user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else

user5 lando’s face killed me

user6 he was just as shocked as we are

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kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??

tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris

yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭

Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️

landonorris 😑

yn_norris fuck off

prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆

User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER

user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her

user3 yea I think Lando almost did

user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭

carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨

danielriccardo so it is true

landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER

Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse

landonorris mate.

danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then

yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section

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~~~

The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.

When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.

“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”

Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”

“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.

~~~

landonorris

Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others

landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜

Tagged: lewishamilton

yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton

yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶

landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶

user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET

used2 with no warning either 😭😭

yn_norris also for the record I did nothing

Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry

user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week

Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪

landonorris 😑

yn_norris lando try that again.

landonorris 👍

user4 you still did great!!

user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭

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yn_norris

liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others

yn_norris big weekend :)

tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli

landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??

yn_norris I mean a lot happened

danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you

yn_norris 🙄✋

Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️

yn_norris love you too ♥️

user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹

olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏

yn_norris anytime care bear

user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT

user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND

tagged: yn_norris

yn_norris omg I love you ♥️

Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️

user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭

user2 you can tell he’s so excited

oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?

landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose

Kimi.antonelli no comment

yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions

landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now

Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n

carlossainz55 I guess I like you

Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?

Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate

yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective

danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it

Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁

user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates

user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to

landonorris this is cute ig

Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win

yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main

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yn_norris

liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others

yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”

tagged: Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶

yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it

user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???

landonorris wtf is that last picture

yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️

user2 I love them so much 😭😭

User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep

Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?

danielriccardo this is is a very important question

yn_norris very 🥰

landonorris cancel the plans guys

Kimi.antonelli I’m scared

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yn_norris

Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others

yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌

tagged: Kimi.antontelli

Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍

landonorris absolutely not

danielriccardo I’m watching you

carlossainz55 stop right there

yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒

oscarpiastri 👶🚫

yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???

Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed

yn_norris possessive much

user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi

user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl

user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother

lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰

abbiepulling they are too cute!!!

yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶

Load more

[mcflymemes]

BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!

i've never seen this kind of malfunction.

am i being too technical?

if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.

to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.

i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!

how will i get back?

this happened once before.

i just don't want to leave!

you'll be such a hero to them!

i feel appreciated but not ogled.

i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.

the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.

i'm not pretty anymore!

humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.

you're so beautiful.

how come you're so amazing!

i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!

you're the voice of a generation.

this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.

i got us both ice creams!

i think you have that the wrong way around.

how much of that did you see?

let's get you up on your feet.

you should heal up in no time.

this night is just perfect!

please call my mother.

i thought i might stay over tonight.

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?

i'm great at doing stuff.

it is literally impossible to be a woman.

we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

never forget that the system is rigged.

find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.

it's too hard!

i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.

i was arrested for tax evasion.

i smell like basement.

what are you doing here?

did you bring your rollerblades?

i literally go nowhere without them!

do you guys ever think about dying?

i'll play the guitar at you.

yeah, i'm... confused about that.

it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."

can i talk to a doctor?

i need a clicky pen.

somebody get security.

i've never seen the godfather.

every night is a boy's night.

i just don't know who i am without you.

i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.

i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.

you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.

men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.

you don't have your license.

you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.

she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.

i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.

who am i to burst their bubble?

you use your imagination!

you can ask me any question you want.

[sugarnspice630]

Mr. Mingi - Mingi PREVIEW

•pairing: wonka!mingi x fem!reader (ft. Hongjoong & Yunho)

Summary: You're invited to Mr. Mingi's factory for the grand tour of the building and while you're exploring, he decides to test you and it ends with a good, not so good, consequence.

A/N: This is just a preview! The full fic will be posted on 8/9/24! If you would like to be tagged in the full story, please comment below so I can add you! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

“I wouldn’t try that one if I were you” He said from behind you, causing you to jump slightly as you were not expecting him to be there.

“Why? You said we could check things out. What’s so bad about it?”

“Well, you can try it, just maybe not here right now.”

“Just tell me what it is then.” You couldn’t help the defensive nature coming out of you, but you truly just wanted to have it your way. You knew Mr. Mingi would not approve of this behavior, but curiosity was eating at you, and now that he told you not too, you wanted too. 

“See if you can figure it out, since you seem to be so smart. Don’t let me stop you.” His stone cold expression brought a chill to your spine, and you thought maybe you should lighten up on the bratty act, but you couldn’t help it. You felt yourself blush, slightly intimidated by how he was looking at you. Curiosity eventually took over and you popped the piece of gum into your mouth. You chewed it carefully, really trying to take in the flavor profile and decipher what this emotion or feeling was. He playfully hummed as he leaned closer to you and tilted his head to the side, staring deep into your eyes and with a soft smirk. You wanted to show up Mr. Mingi and get this right for him. He was watching you intently, monitoring your mouth as it moved around, then glancing up to your eyes to see if you had any idea.

“It might take a while to truly take effect. You’ll feel it, trust me,” He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a soft rub before leaning into your ear and whispering, “and I’m not responsible for the consequences.” He took his hand off your shoulder and left to go find the others. You shot him a confused look while you were still chewing. This gum had you all kinds of confused. There was nothing happening and you were feeling no change. Forgetting for a second, it was a prototype, so there could be some minor kinks he still had to work out.

“Alright dreamers, let’s move onto the next room!” Mr. Mingi had shouted from across the room and was near the next door to continue the tour. You made your way over to the door with the others, still feeling no effect from the piece of gum.

As you started to make your way towards the next room, your body started to feel extremely hot. You felt like you were sweating and your skin looked red. You assumed that it was just the hallway you all happened to be in, but when you looked around at the others, they seemed to not be bothered. You tried to dismiss the feeling, but the temperature only seemed to increase. Eventually you had to take your jacket off. It made your outfit, but at this point you would rather be comfortable than suffering. Thankfully you had a tank top underneath your jacket to cover you up. When you looked down to tie your jacket around your waist, you noticed that your nipples were protruding through your bra and the tank top. Embarrassed at the discovery because you were hot and not cold, so why were your nipples erect? In between your legs felt weak and wet. You figured it was the sweat from your body being so warm. Your heart was racing and you could hardly focus. As Mr. Mingi was talking about the next room, your brain was filled with all these dirty thoughts of him. How hot it would be if you were underneath him, begging him to please you, then he would take you by the hips and thrust himself inside of you.

“Y/N, you okay?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by Yunho’s voice calling out to you. You looked over at him quickly and tried to pass off that you were thinking perverse things.

“Huh? Y-yeah I’m fine w-why?” You bit your lip softly on the inside, the effect Yunho’s raspy voice had on you suddenly driving you insane.

“Um…well you’re uh-“ He cut his own sentence off and directed his attention towards your legs. 

You looked down at yourself and found your legs were crossed and you were rubbing them together, unknowingly. There was a small wet patch right in your crotch seeping through the front of your pants. Your face immediately got red and embarrassed was an understatement. Did you just piss yourself? Absolutely not! That would be humiliating to do in front of these people, especially Mr. Mingi. After looking down at yourself and using your hand to cover the wet patch, you looked up at Mr. Mingi and he was just smirking at you. His head tilted back and to the side, gazing at you through hooded eyes. His hands resting on his cane in front of him yet again, driving you up the wall. 

“Y/N, what’s going on with you?” Hongjoong asked you as he walked over to you and placed the back of his hand on your forehead.

“N-no don’t-.“ As Hongjoong touched your forehead, you let out a small whimper. Your body was aching for someone to touch you. Hongjoong was shocked at your whimper and backed away softly from you. You tilted your head down in embarrassment.

“Well Y/N..have you figured it out yet?” Mr. Mingi called out to you in a deep tone, directing your attention to him yet again. His voice made you whimper again, feeling small at the way he was gazing towards you.

“Mr. Mingi, what did you give her?” Hongjoong looked at him confused and also worried for your well being. 

“Well my dear friends, the particular piece of gum that Y/N decided to selfishly take from my machine, was a special kind of gum.” He paused his sentence, really letting the humiliation set in that you decided to be a brat and do whatever you wanted instead of listening to him. “If you took notice of the color of the machine, you’d notice it was pink. You may ask yourself, what does the pink mean? Well my curious folks, the pink color is meant to represent sexual urges. That particular gum was mixed with aphrodisiacs.” Mr. Mingi finished this sentence with the cockiest smile on his face. You felt like you were going to explode. Your body aching in ways it’s never ached before. The wetness is still pooling in between your legs. Your breasts felt extremely taut and full.

“Mr. Mingi, what is an aphrodisi- whatever you said?” Yunho questioned since Hongjoong was preoccupied looking at you.

“Hm, uncultured are we? That’s alright. An aphrodisiac is a substance alleged to increase libido, which is your sexual drive. Quite interesting isn’t it?” Mr. Mingi took this opportunity to walk over to you and get right into your face. You were beyond humiliated but incredibly turned on. He stared down at you with the same shit-eating grin. “You just couldn’t listen could you? I told you not to, and now look at you, so pathetic and miserable.”

“Mr-Mr. Mingi.”  You whine out to him, desperation in your voice. He made his way around you stopping at your back, placing his hands gently on your shoulders and leaning down.

“You poor thing. I would feel sorry for you, but I don’t really. You did this to yourself, remember?” As he said this, he traced the bottom of your chin with his finger and held onto your face softly. You were afraid to make any more explicit noise in front of the other guys, but the way Mingi was touching you mixed with the aphrodisiac just made it incredibly difficult. You whimpered as you leaned your head back into his shoulder, showing off your neck to him. He glanced down at you and the sight before him was truly an amazing one. You were practically panting against him, your face flushed red and your pupils dilated fully.

“This must be taken care of at once. Otherwise the side effects are just going to get…much worse.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho @ywtfvs @meowmeeps @tinyelfperson @httpseungmxn @acupoftaewithsomesuga @tiredlittlevirgo @no1likevie @arki-sha @yeosangsbbg @skzooluvr

[stxrvel]

right here

it was just one of those nights when you had to take care of Satoru since Suguru left… content. au, no sorcerers in this one. mentions of drugs and drug use, angst, curse words, maybe some kind of domestic fluff? implied smut at the end. happy ending? a/n. this is kind of like an au from this fic. not so sad and a little bold. hope you like it either way!! (right here by chase atlantic heavily inspired this)

jjk main masterlist | main masterlist

Satoru was high, again. His dilated pupils were fixed on your body from the moment you entered his field of vision, walking among the sweaty bodies that did nothing but squeeze against each other in that discotheque. His lips had curved into a lewd smile, because you knew he knew you were coming, sooner or later, and his bright eyes roamed your body, even though you were barely wearing a pair of baggy jeans and one of his giant jackets. To beat his stupid ass and take him back home, like always.

“Satoru.” you spoke in reprimand, and his fucking friends around you barely gave you a sideways glance, some blurting out obscene words they thought you couldn't hear and others booing because you were going to take away their source of amusement. “Time to go.”

“Ah, y/n, can't you wait a little longer?” Shoko was at Satoru's right side, holding his arm as if she wasn't ready to let him go.

You only liked Shoko when she was sober, so you pay her minimal attention as you approached your white-haired friend. His smile hadn't disappeared, and it seemed like those moments were the only ones where you could glimpse a bit of real emotion in his eyes.

“Come on.” You grabbed his arm, ignoring the way Shoko wanted to cling to him and how his other friends were booing louder. Satoru's limp body slipped through your fingers, because he was damn heavy, falling against the couch again. “Please.”

His body gave way, moving with a new strength of resolve the moment that word left your mouth. His eyes, as bright as they were dangerous, were fixed on yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Will you shut the fuck up, Choso?” Satoru spat, averting his gaze for a moment to devote a deadly expression to the friend who used to boo you the most whenever you went looking for him. You and Choso used to get along well, but from a while back things had changed too much.

Even six months ago you didn't think you'd ever have to go into a nightclub at two in the fucking morning to look for your friend because he wasn't answering his fucking phone.

You dragged Satoru to your car, and even though he looked so stoned from the way you could barely make out the blue in his irises, he walked like he was sober beside you and buckled up judiciously.

“You were late today.” was the first thing he said as you pulled onto the freeway heading towards your apartment; the apartment you shared with the airhead you had for a friend.

"I was asleep. You were supposed to write me if you were here any longer.” you gave yourself a moment to turn to look at him, his gaze clouded with drugs. “What did you get into?”

“Nothing I haven't tried before, don't worry.”

“Why do you have to do this every time?” you whispered, but his perceptive self caught every word that came out of your mouth and let out a chuckle in response.

“You shouldn't worry so much, y/n.”

“I'll worry as much as I damn well please, you hear?”

Your aggressive tone of voice only caused him to laugh again. He didn't answer back, but with his head resting against the window you knew he'd fall asleep soon.

-

Satoru had become uncontrollable since Suguru left. Six months ago, the love of his life, the person he swore he would spend the rest of his life with, had given him nothing but a poor excuse to end what they had built for four years and kick it all over his face as he turned his back on him and disappeared; totally. The day Suguru walked out that door, neither you nor Satoru ever saw him again.

It was clear why you were coping better than Satoru. Suguru hadn't promised you a lifetime together or given you a promise ring. Satoru had been broken since the day he left and it had been a constant battle trying to keep him afloat. Only that nigh Suguru left, Satoru dared to be vulnerable with you and spent the whole night crying himself to sleep from exhaustion. Afterwards, he reconnected with friends he had abandoned since meeting Suguru. And with old habits, too.

You did what you could, but there was enough you could carry. Still, you didn't have the heart to leave him alone. He was the most important thing in your life and you couldn't let him fade away, even if his friends hated you; even if he hated you himself. Whatever you had to do, you would do it.

“You smell so good.” Satoru spoke in his sleep, the moment you dropped him on your bed, because he had never dared to go back into the room he shared with Suguru. He usually slept in the living room or brought the couch into your room when he felt too lonely. “Have you always smelled like this?”

His head lifted from the pillow, trying to follow the thread of the scent of your perfume wafting from your neck.

“Yes. Now hold still.”

“Is it time to undress already?”

"Yes, Satoru. And you should take a bath. You smell awful."

"What the…? Of course not."

The white-haired man stood up long enough to try to sniff his own shirt, which emitted a smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette and who knows how many other things. His nose wrinkled and for that reason alone he let you unbutton his shirt without a complaint. Usually Satoru would get too commentary when you undressed him to take a shower, but that time he kept quiet, his narrowed eyes following your movements and flinching when your fingers touched his skin.

“Are you going to fix dinner?”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you undid his black pants.

“Are you hungry?”

“I think it would help me regain consciousness.”

"In the fridge are the leftovers from dinner. I can heat them up while you bathe."

Satoru clicked his tongue, moving to sit up when you took him by the shoulders.

“We were supposed to have dinner tonight.”

Ah, in all and in the midst of his lethargic state he remembered.

“Doesn't matter.”

“I'm sorry, y/n.”

"Get up. The tub's ready."

Satoru stood up with a pout, his eyes crystallizing as he moved behind you in the direction of the bathroom. He didn't stray for a moment like he did before.

“Ah,” Satoru almost groaned as he sank fully into the water, letting his eyes close as you wet his hair a little, “this feels like glory.”

“You could feel like this more often if you didn't go out so much.”

Your friend frowned, half-opening his eyes to look at you as his hair got soaked. “Are you implying something specific?”

You didn't respond, letting silence dance between the two of you, until your friend groaned loudly.

“You know I'm slower when I'm drunk.”

“Then you should stop being drunk so often.”

“Not fair…”

“Take a bath,” you left the soap between his hands, “I'll go heat up your food.”

Walking in the direction of the exit, you still wondered why you had let things go this far. Satoru called out to you, his left hand outstretched outside the tub, as if reaching for you, trying to get to you. His bright eyes still lacked that glowing blue, but you could see a little more lucidity in them now.

“Thank you.”

-

You sat across from your friend as he dove into the dinner you had prepared. Satoru loved your food. Back when Suguru still lived here, you would prepare banquets to spend a day or the whole weekend with endless platters of food while having series or movie marathons.

Maybe you wanted to convince yourself that Suguru's departure hadn't affected you as much as it had Satoru. Maybe it had, but if you weren't the rational one in the relationship you were left in with Satoru then probably neither of you would survive.

“This tastes amazing.” Satoru complimented you, scraping the crockery to eat every last chip.

“It was more delicious freshly prepared.”

You let your chin rest on the back of your hand as Satoru looked up heavily, the blue glowing a little brighter after the shower and with some food in his stomach.

He gulped. “I'm sorry-”

“Whatever,” you didn't want to hear it; you'd lost count of the number of times he'd apologized and the number of times he'd promised you that next time it wouldn't be like this, “finish quickly to go to sleep. I can't feel my eyes anymore."

You got up before his whiny voice could reach your ears and finished organizing the kitchen by the time his plate was left in the dishwasher.

“The rest will be organized by tomorrow's sober you.”

Satoru lifted a shoulder. “It's only fair.”

In the room, silence engulfed you once again. You didn't close the door because you knew he planned to sleep there that night, but his body remained standing in front of the couch when you thought he'd already gone to bed. You changed, as usual, as you usually do while he sleeps, in front of the closet.

“Hey, do you think I can sleep with-? Wow.”

You froze. Your breath caught in your throat because you swore he'd gone to bed; it was what he did every time, you didn't even have to ask him to do it. But when you cautiously turned to look over your shoulder, he was standing in front of your bed, with a direct view of your bare back and full coverage of your legs because you were only in your underwear.

“Satoru! Turn around!”

“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry…”

His body turned reluctantly, returning the poorly disguised stare about three times until his back was completely turned to you.

You changed in record time, barely putting on one of the white shirts you had stolen from him months ago and closing the closet. When you turned around to see him, his back was still turned, playfully kicking some lint on the floor, trying to distract himself while you finished changing.

“What were you saying?”

Satoru turned suddenly, his eyes finding you with trained ease, walking in the direction of the nightstand to prepare you, once again, for sleep. His silence intrigued you, and when you turned back to see him after plugging in your phone and setting your alarms, you found him staring at your legs.

“Satoru.”

“Yes?” his large, not very innocent eyes returned to your face with embarrassing speed, and from the hardness in your gaze he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah. Mmm. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could sleep with you tonight, but I don't know if it's the most appropriate thing to do right now…"

You arched an eyebrow at him, massaging your hands with a moisturizer as you settled in between your sheets.

“But you sleep here every night.”

“I mean,” Satoru shifted, pointing to the empty side of your bed and then to himself, “to literally sleep with you.”

“Ah.”

You looked at the empty side and at your friend, taking more time to respond than Satoru had considered. He thought you'd straight up tell him no and even send him to sleep in the living room, but it seemed like you genuinely considered it.

“I wouldn't mind.” you finally replied, and you missed seeing the way his shoulders relaxed as you turned to turn off the room light. “Just try not to snore too much.”

“What?” Satoru stopped halfway into the bed, and you smiled imagining his offended face; if you focused properly you could see it through the darkness. “I don't snore.”

“Uh-huh~”

Satoru finally threw himself on the bed with a grunt and you could only laugh in response.

“Go to sleep already.”

Satoru cowered on his side of the bed, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone for several months now. His tense body stayed in the position he fell into, face up, barely feeling your movements on the mattress as you found your favorite sleeping position. Your bed was small, barely fit two people, and if Satoru got any closer he could feel your breathing against his neck.

“y/n?” Satoru spoke a couple of minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

“Mmm?” you hummed in response, trying to hold back sleep until you were sure your friend had fallen asleep first. Usually that wasn't a problem, because Satoru pretty much came in asleep from the car ride, but that night he seemed to be full of surprises.

“Do you miss him?”

Your chest ached for the tiniest second, the fond memories of their nights the three of you together in that apartment raiding your mind. Maybe you had mourned Suguru's departure as much as Satoru had when he wasn't seeing you, but that was something you were going to keep to yourself alone. There was no room for forgiveness and that attempted of a man didn't deserve a single tear from both of you.

So you swallowed that pressure like a wet rag and frowned, even if your friend couldn't see you.

“Not as much as I'd like to strangle him.”

“How do you do that? How do you stay strong?”

His voice, so low, soft and vulnerable, you couldn't help but let it pierce through to your heart. You opened your eyes, and for some reason you felt his blue eyes on yours.

“I do it for you.”

You listened to his breathing, loud, choppy, the slight startled intake of breath. You moved your hands over the mattress and didn't have to go too far to find his hands and cradle them.

“You don't have to think about that,” you murmured now that you were closer, feeling his heartbeat through your grip, “you don't have to think about him.”

“I don't know what to think about anymore.” Satoru replied, his voice matching yours, almost as if he was running out of air; like his last prayer for salvation.

And you didn't know, even some time later, what had moved you that night. His closeness, his vulnerability, that you no longer knew what else to do to help him… but you moved closer to him and pressed your lips against his.

Satoru was probably moved by the same thing that moved you, because he didn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back with the same fierceness and passion, letting go of your hands and wrapping his long arms around your waist.

That night something changed between the two of you. You didn't know if you were seeking comfort in each other's arms; trying to fill a void that someone else had implanted in both of you with his departure, when he had taken a part of each of you with him when he left; maybe because you were both the only thing the other had; maybe because you knew Satoru would never do that to you; maybe because he knew you would never do that to him.

Whatever the reason, Satoru never let go of you all night, his lips swallowing every moan of yours and his hands always intertwined with yours.

Whatever the reason, Satoru had found something else, something different, something that didn't even compare to drugs… something he didn't even know he could have.

And he wasn't about to let it go this time.

[ennn]

Hello :) I really enjoy reading your analysis on AAA!

What conversations do you think Agatha and Rio had between “because the truth is too awful “ and “what Billy wants is a violation”?

The shift between topics was so abrupt. What would they talk about to make Agatha want to make a deal to never see Rio again?

Hello Anon! Thank you for reading 💚 Okay so I think there's 2 parts to your question here, which is (a) why the change in topics between the conversation and (b) how it leads up to Agatha's deal.

Let's take a step back a bit. If we look at the first conversation, it already starts out about the Problem of Billy right?

And the whole Billy issue only exists in the context of what happened with Nicky. If Nicky had never been a thing, Agatha and Rio and their dynamic would be entirely different. Nicky was the breaking point of their relationship – a relationship with love and lust but also wrapped up in their opposing natures.

The conversation quickly escalates, shifting from Billy to their history and relationship. Rio, direct as ever, airs what must be a long-long-simmering grievance:

Rio: No one in history has had special treatment like you. Agatha: You call what you did "special treatment"? You gave me nothing. You took. Rio: And that's usually your move right.

Now the anger and frustration is starting to boil and Agatha tries to push past and get away from Rio – but Rio stops her and tries to deescalate this argument.

In other words – and to address your ask – the topic shifts because Rio is trying to have a conversation and not fight. Rio knows that Nicky is Agatha's deepest scar, and Agatha is a runner when she doesn't have control.

You can see Rio taking a second, watching Agatha, her tone softening as she asks the question:

Why do you let them believe those things about you, hm? About Nicky?

I think Rio tries to deescalate because she does need Agatha's help with the Billy situation: she can't kill him or reap his soul on her own. It's not a thing Rio is happy about or wants but she's got a job to do.

BUT in this show things are usually complicated: more than one thing can be true at the same time: I think Rio also cares about Agatha and wants to understand why.

After all it was Rio who told the group in episode 5 that Agatha killed her original coven because they tried killing her first. Agatha doesn't bother defending herself, if anything she plays up being this villain.

I mean, Rio loves this serial killer right. It's not the murder part of Agatha's reputation Rio cares about. Rio also has the unique insight of knowing exactly what happened to Nicky. This rumour that Agatha doesn't do anything to discourage seems to not only be an insult to Agatha but the memory of Nicky.

And then in a rare moment of vulnerability, Agatha decides to reveal her truth to Rio.

Because the truth is too awful

I read this moment as Rio trying to reach out and Agatha deciding to give an honest answer. Which again, is a precious rare thing coming from her.

I don’t think any transitional dialogue from this to the other conversation is really important, not as much as the emotional place this first conversation ends with, which allows for the second one about a potential collaboration to happen.

Also like, what do you say to something like that? Because wow there is a lot to unpack there.

Agatha’s implying that what Rio gave her and Nicky is worse than her sacrificing Nicky for power. That she isn’t trying to be cruel, she truly can’t see the gift of time Rio gave them. That she sees herself somehow responsible for what happened to Nicky. That she doesn’t just blame Rio, she blames herself.

If I had to plot out some kind of transition between these two conversations, I would do something like:

Let the silence after the admission drag on a bit. Rio looks concerned but doesn't say anything in the moment.

Agatha takes the opportunity to walk away. Rio doesn't stop her but follows. Agatha lets her.

After a moment of quiet walking, Agatha asks about when Rio knew about the Road hex and they compare notes for a bit (Rio probably throwing shade at the weird nature here). This time lets Agatha build up her walls again.

They sit down and talk about the point of the hex, which then nicely leads into their second conversation, starting with what Billy wants.

In their second conversation, what's interesting here how very reluctant Rio is about asking for Agatha's help. She knows Agatha and hates being in this position so much she doesn't even want to say it, letting Agatha piece together what she needs.

It must truly be a rare instance that Agatha has this kind of leverage over Rio, over Death.

Because Agatha reacts like a shark scenting blood in the water. She barely hides it.

This goes back to your question: Why does Agatha make such an deal that hurts Rio so badly?

My read is that Agatha basically reacts to this rush of power over Rio the same way she badly – almost instinctively – reacted to Alice presenting her with her magic:

She takes and takes and takes.

Because Rio's always been unstoppable but now Agatha can stop her. This is what's she's been hungering for.

That sense of helplessness she felt moments ago when she thought she had to let Billy go – like she let Nicky go – now turns to something with teeth.

You can see Agatha literally take a second to calculate the most cruel thing she can say to Rio to hurt her, to deny and reject her love.

Now that's the emotional side of things. On a more logical level, Agatha goes into scheming mode. This is like muscle memory for her at this point, she won't deny an opportunity to get ahead.

So she doesn't deny Rio's ask. She makes the price of her handing over Billy so awful to Rio it has maybe a chance of stopping her from her mission, or buying more time at least. For so much of her life Agatha has justified murder and lies and the worst behaviour with the need to survive and protect what's hers.

Once again: Calculated move, bad at math.

Because Rio accepts the deal. She's so wounded she doesn't even push back even a little. She reacts so badly to Agatha's rejection, to her taking advantage of this opportunity, that she gives into being the villain Agatha sees her as.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Purpose: knight!price x princess!reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women

You sat in the solar near the window with your embroidery on your lap. Your attention was on the fabric and thread while your mother sat across the room near the fire place, doing the same as you.

"...the prince is kind. He's about your age too." She said and you had to suppress a sigh.

"It's only been a week, mother." You pointed out and she gave you a look. "If you're that worried about there not being a successor after me, perhaps you can give the throne to my cousin. She has plenty of children."

"She's fickle. She'd run the kingdom into the grave and our lineage would be the laughing stock for generations."

You frowned.

"This is your responsibility as a princess, to run the kingdom after me and secure our throne." She explained as if this was the first time you had been told this in your life. "You can't keep throwing away our options."

"If they truly liked me then perhaps I wouldn't." You retorted and she shook her head.

"That's because you aren't supposed to like each other. It's nothing more than politics, but you could always befriend him later on after children."

You sighed heavily and stopped sewing. You tried your hardest to hold in your emotions as they weighed heavy on your chest.

You suspected that before end of next week you’d be surrounded by other lords or princes vying for your hand again.

You glanced out the window and your attention immediately went to Sir John Price.

He stood in a makeshift ring with a wooded sword in his hand. In front of him was a scrawny new squire who had yet to prove he had enough potential to even be considered to be a royal knight.

Price stood in front of the squire as he prepared for a spar. His knights gathered around to watch and the squire looked as if he’d throw up.

“Alright, lad?” He wondered when he noticed his shaking legs. He sent a quick look to Simon who snickered.

“Aye, sir.” The squire lied and he hummed. “But perhaps I should spar with someone else. In account that you must have better things to do.”

Price sucked in his lips to hide his smile.

“Perhaps Sir Simon Riley will be a better fit then.” He couldn’t contain his chuckle when the squire paled. “I assure you that I will spar fairly. It’s only wood.”

It didn’t take long for the spar to start. Price was fair but he was quick. He struck the squire more than once, knocking him into the dirt and bruising his skin.

It was a spectacle without him trying. Price moved like the wind and cut with precision, his focus making it so he became practically unstoppable. Every swing had intention, every slash had a purpose.

There were tales that Price might be something more than human. Perhaps he was the spirit of heroism reborn, a warrior who lived thousands of lifetimes before this moment, a not a man but some higher being of chivalry.

Price would deny every single one of them.

He had worked hard. He practiced until his hands bled and until he nearly collapsed with exhaustion to get to this point. He worked hard to fulfill his purpose and it was him who made it happen, not some other worldly spirit or higher being.

The spar was done before long. Sweat dripped down Price’s temple while he stood over the squire who looked defeated.

He hardly put up a worthy fight and if Price were any different he would’ve turned him away. Yet he could see the potential he had and maybe he was sentimental, but he could almost see his younger self in the squire.

He helped the kid up and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

“Practice more and you’ll get better.” He gave him a quick smile before he waved him away.

The squire limped away to the barracks with a smile on his face.

“You’ve gone soft, Cap.” Kyle scoffed and he raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you want to spar as well. I know you can handle me at my best.” He offered but Kyle shook his head.

“I’d not like to wake up sore, sir.”

Price chuckled but let it rest. He wiped the sweat from his brow and massaged a knot in his shoulder.

He was only so good because he had to be. This was his entire life, the rest of his life, and one slip up meant life and death.

He looked up at the castle and caught you staring at him in the window.

For a moment you two stared at each other, unable to see the details but he knew you were looking, and time seemed to stop.

Price felt heat rise across his face and he was sure he had turned pink. He swallowed hard, nervous that you of all people had watched him spar, he was not fond of anyone but his knights watching him, and struggled to control himself.

He bowed to you before he made his way out of your sight.

You watched him leave with a similar heat spread across your face. Your heart raced just a little faster and you began to embroider again to avoid any questions from your mother.

As much as you hated to admit you understood now why your ladies in waiting would watch him when he trained.

You stubbornly told yourself you were just in awe by his skill and nothing more.

A/n: all he’s gotta do is just hold a sword and I’m over the edge

Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @rmikaelson01

[bonefall]

What are your thoughts on Crowfeather's Trial? I already know how you feel about my other least favorite super editions so I'm curious about your opinions on this one lol

I think at best it's just okay. Like...it feels like they're going "see!! We're holding him accountable!!" But then they just kinda...dont?? Like I didn't feel any differently about Crowfeather by the end than I did when I started. There's parts I like about it but overall it just fell flat for me

Like how am I supposed to like this guy when he's just constantly a dick?? he can't stand Harespring for some reason, there's a moment where he's like "I wish my son was dead" and when Nightcloud goes missing he barely gives a damn and doesn't bother to even try and look for her

Anyways I'll forever be mad that they gave this guy a whole super edition and he'll probably have the most dramatic death ever while Leafpool suffered her entire life (and afterlife) and got killed off screen. Hoping he gets jumped by rats and dies from infection

I'm not a big fan of it. It's one of the better written SEs and has a clear goal in mind, but every time I have to encounter it, it feels like it's sidelining the characters who actually deserve to be explored in favor of Crowfeather Sadboy Whinging.

Breezepelt has 12 books detailing how being mistreated by Crowfeather is making him worse, and showing that social alienation is pushing him towards the Dark Forest. Nightcloud was demonized by the old team even though they wrote Crowfeather deflecting all the blame of Breeze's behavior onto her, giving the new team a great opportunity to correct the mistakes of the old writers... and they decided to focus on Crowfeather instead.

And, mind you, they conveniently leave out massive details about how BADLY Crowfeather was abusing his child.

There's this one part of the book where he learns that Breezepelt broke his leg as a kid and he feels like shit for not remembering it, and it's supposed to be a big moment where Crowfeather realizes he was apathetic and careless. But he WASN'T just apathetic and careless. We see him TEACHING his child xenophobia in order to mock and offend Leafpool, smacking Breezepaw around for being 'rude' (the way Crowf always is), and screeching at him for having basic needs like hunger or rest.

Crowfeather WASN'T just a sad, sad boy who didn't pay attention to his kid because he was too busy pining over Dead Wife. What he did to Breezepelt wasn't just neglect; it was physical and emotional abuse.

The book DOES ultimately hold him responsible for how Breezepelt turned out, yes. But it doesn't properly focus on WHAT made Breeze come out the way he did. It wasn't genes, it wasn't Daddy Not Smile At Me. I can only assume the reason why they didn't address how ghoulish Crowfeather actually was is because they knew that being honest and direct about him abusing his child would make him unsympathetic.

Which is a problem, because, y'know, you can just make it Breezepelt's Trial and NOT have to thread that needle??

And furthermore... the book is trying to show Crowfeather addressing that he's kind of an asshole and moving on from it, earning deputyship as a reward for his growth, but what the book really demonstrates to me is that Crowfeather is a dickhead who actually shouldn't have ANY power at all. I don't understand why people would trust him or want him as their leader. I don't see any reason to think that he would be responsible with the lives of an entire Clan of people.

Before I hear clown shoes; if you think that means I "just don't like" that he would be an ""interesting leader,"" pile yourself back into the car with your 30 other jesters and drive away. I mean that it feels completely wrong that any character in-universe would look at the person who exists in Crowfeather's Trial, and say, "this is a person who would help me effectively rule."

What he does, all-book-long, is show that he's an emotionally unstable loose canon borderline incapable of self-reflection. Other characters have to directly tell him "you should try being less of an asshole" and "maybe be nice to your family sometimes?" while he comes up with bullshit reasons to seethe at every character who wanders into his line of sight.

I massively resent the fact that even Leafpool has to mommy his baby ass towards the end of the book. After he spends a good part of Po3 and OotS finding roundabout ways to snipe at her for not giving him exactly what he wanted. It falls on HER to be the one he can ask for advice on how to fix the family he treated like shit his whole life.

no that's not hyperbole she literally. textually. is compared to his mother.

and he can't even be gracious about it, he's instantly all huffy and offended, completely proving her point. Why the hell would anyone make this guy a deputy? The man needs TWO motherly figures giving him the exact same basic advice and a dedicated super edition before he adjusts his behavior even slightly.

(watch him get Boring Leader Syndrome the minute he inevitably becomes Crowstar, too)

Sooo, in a nutshell;

It's one of the better SEs. unfortunately.

Crowfeather is held accountable for being the problem in his own relationships, thank god

but it doesn't fully hold the actions we SAW in the main series books accountable, seemingly purposefully leaving out the worst things he did.

Another WC book where a male character gets an insane amount of sympathy and rewarding that female characters are NEVER deigned deserving of.

Should have been Breezepelt's story. I strongly dislike how Breeze's "redemption" was based on his shitty dad saying sorry. He deserved an actual character arc struggling with ever trusting WindClan again after they took his dad's judgement about him at face value.

Absolutely awful that Leafpool is killed between books and given a trial where they consider sending her to hell when they finally DO get around to showing how she died, while Crowfeather gets an SE about the whole world holding his hand so he can fix the family he broke in 5 easy steps.

Its biggest problem is that it is about a character whose actions you can go and read about. It doesn't deliver on the setup of 12 books of Crowfeather being an absolute git; it's a good story for the version of Crowfeather the new team seems to have created in their heads.

Doesn't stop me from manifesting him getting an infection and having a Sandstorm-tier disrespectful death in the upcoming series, lmao.

[whats-amata-you]

Alright y’all hear me out, but I kinda like this interpretation of the Kaiba brothers where they have to deal with the consequences of a very codependent sibling relationship. Not like in the “something happens to Mokuba and Seto has a crisis” kind way, but in the “Mokuba doesn’t know who the hell he is outside the context of being Seto’s little brother” kind of way.

Literally everything Seto ever did from the day Mokuba was born was toward the singular goal of Mokuba’s wellbeing. He sacrificed everything to give Mokuba better opportunities, a more stable home life, a better chance at happiness than Seto ever really had for himself. Seto even gave up huge swaths of who he himself was to work toward that goal. It was all for Mokuba.

But Mokuba was right there with him, the whole time, watching his brother suffer and doing everything in his power to protect him. Mokuba’s whole identity revolves just as much around Seto as Seto’s does around Mokuba.

And that’s fucked up all well and good when Seto’s a teenager and Mokuba hasn’t even hit puberty and only one of them is really taking on any serious adult responsibility. But imagine what that must be like when Mokuba grows up.

Imagine being 20 and as long as you can remember you’ve been worrying about keeping your older brother alive. Maybe he’s in late twenties or early thirties now, and life has finally forced him to either do the work of healing and moving on or else spiraling into self-destruction to the point that not even you can save him anymore. Maybe he’s married off and happy in his own life, or maybe he’s dead or missing and left you behind as his only heir to the family fortune.

And you’re just as completely, utterly lost either way because either way, he doesn’t need you the same way anymore. And on top of that, you realize you don’t really need him the same way anymore.

His routines aren’t yours anymore. His moods don’t set the tone for your whole day anymore. You don’t plan your life around him and his needs anymore.

So. What do you do when you’re suddenly cut loose and left adrift?

I imagine Mokuba floating through life a lot for his twenties, maybe into his thirties. He’s got no sense of direction or purpose without Seto being the center of it all. He realizes he doesn’t have to become a businessman like Seto and help run Kaiba Corporation, but doesn’t know what the hell else he might even want to do. Doesn’t even have a clue. He goes into business anyway because he knows he has to do something, but he doesn’t really enjoy it and it wears on him. He’s popular with women but can’t make a relationship last more than a few weeks; they keep fizzling out because he just doesn’t seem to have any ambition.

It’s super easy for Mokuba to see and acknowledge how Seto was always sort of his dad when they were kids, as well as his brother. Seto actively took up the role and wasn’t shy about saying so outright. But I don’t think either of them realizes quite as easily just how much Mokuba was parentified too, even from a very young age. Seto made Mokuba’s physical health and overall wellbeing his business on purpose, but Mokuba accidentally stumbled into providing a level of emotional support to Seto that no child should ever be responsible for. That kind of relationship would fuck anyone up.

I feel like an interpretation of them Kaiba brothers that had a Mokuba who ended up being rather directionless and having issues with his sense of who the hell he is after Seto’s inevitable Character Development one way or the other is worth exploring. People change over time, and if a fic is set a decade or more post-canon…idk, I just feel like Mokuba’s trauma deserves some serious exploration, too.

[fandangotales]

Mine, never hers.

Summary: You wake up to your boyfriend crying, so you comfort him.

Warnings: NSFW Content, emotional trauma. Overall pretty tame and wholesome for a smut. Reader is GN.

Characters: Scaramouche <3

It had started out with soft mumbles… but as the seconds ticked by, those slight noises contorted into something more broken. Sobs… of pure agony as he twitched in his sleep. The moonlight shone down on his lithe body, as his lips opened slightly to let out some words.

“No… get away from me…” he mumbled, as crystal tears slid down his cheek. “I’m not… I’m not your puppet.”

The last word ended in a sob, as the sound of his cries increased in volume. Eventually you woke up, realizing he was likely having a nightmare… about her. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him.

“Scara… wake up. It’s just a dream.” You said, softly caressing his face.

His eyes fluttered open, their blue-purple hue glazed over with tears. He quickly sat up, hugging onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Y/n…” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

You accepted his embrace, gently running your fingers through his hair. “I’m here… if you’d want to talk about it.”

“It… was another dream about her.” He muttered, hugging you a little tighter at the mention of the woman. He continued speaking, as you felt his hot breaths across your chest.

“Kind of funny, huh? After all these years, everything I’ve been through… she still haunts me.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, looking up at you. “And here I was thinking I was stronger than that… but in the end, I guess she still owns a part of me.”

Your eyes widened. “No… don’t say that. What you went through was terrible, it’s more than understandable to be hurt from it.”

You cupped his face, staring into his watery eyes. He didn’t say anything, staring at you as if you were his last hope.

“And she doesn’t own you! Seriously, your experiences can only control you if you let them.” You gave him a comforting smile, as you held his face in your hands. Leaning closer to him, you whispered in his ear.

“Besides… you have me now. And last time I checked? We belong to each other~”

At your words, Scaramouche blushed a deep red. He struggled to form a proper response.

“Y-y/n…” he stuttered, looking at you in a mix of disbelief and hope. “You… really think so?”

You moved your body on top of him, straddling his lap. You then looked down at him with a reassuring smile.

“I do… if you’ll allow me, perhaps I can show you just how much you mean to me? How much I love you? How much I want you to be mine… and only mine?”

You said, smirking a little as his face lit up at your words.

“Yes… you may.” He softly said, looking away in embarrassment.

You then took his chin, softly kissing his lips, before moving to his cheeks.

“Now then… I don’t want to be seeing any more tears~” you whispered, kissing down his neck.

His body jerked a little, as your soft lips moved down to his sensitive neck, and then his collarbone.

You looked him straight in the eye, before sucking a red mark onto his pale skin, as you felt him shudder beneath you. His eyes remained on you as you repeated the process, painting his skin with a clear reminder… that he belonged to you.

“A-ah… y/n…” he breathed, seeming to enjoy your actions.

Your eyes crinkled as you grinned, moving your hands down to his shorts. “My… getting all worked up already?”

Scaramouche let out a choked moan, as your hands went underneath his shorts, teasing his cock. It was already leaking… almost as if it was begging for your attention.

“P-please…” he whispered, between breaths. “Please touch me…”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, as your hand began jerking him off. “Anything you say, darling~”

As your hand moved, you continued making your marks all over his throat. The slight pain, combined with the way your hand moved against him was heavenly, as he let out soft noises.

“M-mhm~“ he whimpered, as his hips began to move in time with your hand. You kept going, swallowing more of his moans with a deep kiss.

You moved your hand a bit faster, as your fingers flicked against his perky nipples. He let out a gasp, as his eyes roll back.

“H-hah…y/n…” he panted, as you continued to play with his body.

You always thought he looked beautiful like this… thighs shaking, erratic breathing… so perfect, just for you. You then leaned down once more, passionately kissing him as your hand gripped tighter around him, moving up and down at a swift pace. Scaramouche breathed heavily into the kiss, desperately returning it, as your lips crashed together.

“Such a good boy for me… so pretty like this, and only for me~” you praised him, in between kisses.

He let out a loud moan at your words, as you felt a wetness coating your hands. You then slowed your pace, allowing him to fully savor the high. He stayed like that for a few moments, completely blissed out from both the pleasure, and the love he received from you.

“…thank you.” He said, the words barely audible.

You pet his hair, pressing one last kiss to his forehead, as his eyes fluttered shut. He was worn out from his nightmare earlier, and the pleasure you had given him. Although… the nightmare was the last thing on his mind. Instead, it was filled with you, your kindness, and your love for him. He let out a few deep breaths, fully relaxing into the mattress. After a bit of time, fell asleep.

As you left the room to go get a washcloth to clean him off… this time, you saw a soft smile upon his lips as he slept.

[writinground2]

Reconnected - Alessia Russo

Alessia reconnects with an old friend after a long time falling out.

Alessia groaned when she heard she would be rooming with Y/N for the next three weeks at camp. 

Alessia and Y/N had grown up together, playing on all the same teams until Alessia decided to go to America for University and Y/N had decided she was going to attempt to go professional. 

They each respected the others decision and made promises to call all the time, text every day, and facetime at least once a week. 

They parted with a very emotional goodbye and reminder to call when Alessia landed. 

But, as it always does, life got in the way. Busy schedules and time zones took its toll. Weekly calls tuned to monthly, texts would go days without a response. By the end of the first season, they hadn’t spoken in months. Months turned to years, and they ended up not speaking again until Alessia received her first senior call up. 

Alessia had been frozen in place that first time seeing Y/N in years. Ella and Georgia let her pass it off as just anxiety. Y/N smiled and said how good it was to see Alessia again before settling in for the meeting to start camp off. 

Neither spoke about the past, both remained cordial, awkwardness seeping from every interaction the two had. Now, she was going to have to share a room with the girl for three weeks. 

“Ouch, don’t sound so excited,” Y/N mumbled walking by to grab a room key. 

The striker winced, knowing Y/N heard her groan of disappointment. She trudged behind the other player, hoping for some miracle that someone would call out it was a mistake, and they weren’t roommates. Ella gave her a sympathetic smile as she slowly passed. 

Y/N stood outside the room with it propped open, waiting for the blonde catch up. Once she did, she pushed in first, dumping her bags at the bed closest to the door. 

“You still like the bed further from the door?” 

Alessia fumbled for a response, simply nodding, and walking to the other bed. Both started to unpack. Alessia kept glancing over, trying to see if Y/N was as uncomfortable as she was with the situation. Sighing, she continued to shift her clothes around to look busy. 

“Hey, uh, I know,” Y/N started softly, fidgeting with one of the room keys, having moved to stand by the door, “uh, I know this isn’t what you want, and you don’t want anything to do with me. So, I’ll stay out of the room as much as I can and give you your space.”

She walked out of the room before Alessia could even process what was said to her. It had been obvious she was awkward with her former friend, but she didn’t want to make it seem like Y/N was being forced from her room. 

Y/N was true to her word though. For the first week of camp, Y/N would only be in the room to shower or sleep, always slipping in just before curfew and gone before Alessia woke up. Alessia didn’t know where she was going, none of the players did. Y/N wasn’t hanging out in any of the common areas or other players rooms. Anytime not scheduled for team time, Y/N just vanished.

The start of the second week, Y/N came into the room just before curfew, slamming the door behind her. She aggressively grabbed her pajamas from her bag before going into the bathroom, slamming that door shut as well. 

Alessia sat shocked in her bed, dropping her phone to rest on her chest, waiting for Y/N to come out to check on her. 

“Everything ok?”

“Just fucking fine,” she threw her clothes on top of her suitcase, she forcefully flopped into her bed before rolling away to face away from the blonde. 

“Do you, uh, do you want to talk about it?” 

Alessia didn’t know if this was the right move or not. They hadn’t any kind of conversation with meaning to it in years, this might not be the best time to start. 

Y/N didn’t respond, focusing on the wall in front of her. Alessia couldn’t see her face but could hear the faint sniffles and shuffling of the sheets. She knew the other girl was doing her best to mask her crying. 

“You’re obviously upset Y/N, we can chat about it if you want.”

“Just fucking drop it!”

Y/N whipped her body over to glare at the blonde. In the low light left from the bedside lamp between the beds, Alessia could see her bloodshot eyes. But it was also clear that while she was being snapped at, Y/N wasn’t angry, she looked sad and disappointed. Y/N continued to stare Alessia down before moving back to facing away. 

“I’m sorry, if you change your mind, I’m here.”

Alessia clicked the light off before settling in her bed. She tried to sleep, but all she could think about was how upset her roommate was. 

She had been her best friend. They may have drifted apart, but she still cared very deeply for her. She could easily say she loved her when she was younger. Not knowing what the feeling meant at the time, she hadn’t done anything with them, thinking it was normal feel that way about best friends. 

In university, she realized that it wasn’t. That what she felt towards Y/N was so much more and went so much deeper. It had only taken one experience with one of the players from the men’s team to realize that she would never feel the attraction toward men like it seemed she was supposed to, leaving her confused. It also only took one experience with one of the older players on her team to realize that was what she felt. 

Several heartfelt conversations later, Alessia realized what she felt was normal, but by then it seemed too late for her and Y/N and she didn’t understand what had happened. She made a few attempts to maintain the friendship, but things seemed strained and never were what they had been. 

Y/N was gone by the time Alessia woke in the morning. No one saw her until they loaded the bus to head to the field. 

They played the next day and would just being having a light practice that day, with the afternoon off. 

Alessia understood what Y/N was upset the night before. She was handed a different colour pinny than she normal received, seeming to indicate not only would she not be starting but most likely not playing at all. The coaching staff must have told her the night before. 

Several veteran players seemed shocked she wouldn’t be getting the minutes, but most understood. Y/N had been playing terrible the entire camp, it only made sense she wouldn’t be playing. 

England easily pulled out the win the next day. Alessia coming on as a sub, scoring two goals withing five minutes of being on the field.

With the team playing again in only a couple days, the celebration was kept to minimum. Movie night in a conference room of the hotel. Staff brought in brought in popcorn and snacks. Players brought down pillows and blankets, spreading themselves all around the room. Y/N didn’t bring anything down, having again avoided going to the room. She sat stiffly at the back of the room, darting out abruptly once the movie ended, not giving anyone a chance to talk to her. 

“Good! you’re here!” Alessia was excited walking in the room as Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. 

Riding high on confidence of her game earlier, she felt ready to find out why her and Y/N stopped being friends. 

“I’m not in the mood to be mocked,” Y/N mumbled while she put her dirty laundry in her bag. 

“I’m not mocking you, I wanted to talk to you.” 

Y/N stopped her movements and looked over to see if the blonde was serious or not. 

When Y/N didn’t say anything for a minute or make a move to leave, she continued. 

“I wanted to talk to you about us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. 

“Yes, there is. I want to know why I don’t have a best friend anymore.”

She was speaking much more confidently felt now. 

Y/N let out a humourless laugh, “Ella is your best friend.” 

“You were my best friend and now you’re not, I want to know why.” 

The blonde could tell Y/N was becoming frustrated with the conversation, but she didn’t know when she would have the confidence to bring this up again, so she kept pushing. 

“We promised to talk all the time, no matter what, you stopped replying, you stopped calling.”

“Don’t blame me for this,” Y/N grunted out, doing her best to keep herself from getting angry and raising her voice. 

“I’m not blaming you; I’m just saying, we could have made more of an effort.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Y/N sneered. 

Alessia was taken back by the sudden venom in the stare Y/N hit her with. She had gone through all their interactions time and time again to try and determine what happened between them, she quickly thought about it again, coming up with nothing. 

“Just drop it Alessia, it’s not worth it rehashing the past.”

Y/N seemed defeated, shaking her head, she made her way into her bed. 

“It is worth it; I want my best friend back.” 

“You didn’t remember then; you won’t remember now. I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

Alessia took a good look at Y/N now, she looked beaten from their conversation. She had tucked herself into a ball, facing away from the blonde. 

Feeling guilty for upsetting Y/N, Alessia softly agreed before getting ready for bed herself. 

Y/N was gone again when Alessia woke up. 

Alessia entered the banquet room for breakfast, just in time to catch Ella yelling at Y/N as she walked away. 

“I don’t know what you did, but you’re hurting my best friend, so figure it out or leaver her the hell alone.” 

Ella had badgered it out of Alessia their first camp as to why the pair were so awkward with each other. Alessia had confided in Ella long ago about her previous friendship with Y/N and how abruptly it seemed to end. 

Ella was protective of her best friend. Knowing Y/N was doing something to upset her, didn’t sit well with her. She set out that morning to confront Y/N, causing a small scene. 

Leah calmly stepped in front of the midfielder when it looked like she was going to follow Y/N leaving the room, “leave it between them Ella.”

Ella continued to glare the way Y/N left before walking to sit back down. 

“And you,” the captained turned to Alessia, “are going to go work whatever out with Y/N before it wrecks her.”

“She’s avoiding me and our room. Besides, I tried last night, and she shut me down.” 

“I’ll get her to your room so you guys can talk, just go wait there for her.” 

Leah turned the striker back to her room before calling Y/N to find where she had been hiding the last week. 

Y/N hadn’t told anyone on the team of her fallout with Alessia. It had been easy enough to figure out there was history between the two players. Both admitted they had a friendship, but Y/N only ever stated they had drifted apart due to distance, leaving it at that. There has never been any issue between the two until this week.

“You and Alessia are going to settle whatever feud you have going on now,” Leah spoke firmly while she all but dragged Y/N back to her room, grip not loosening on her bicep as they walked the distance of the hallway. 

“We aren’t children, you can’t just put us in time out!” 

Leah glared her down, causing Y/N to shrink under the look. She banged on the door for Alessia to open it, shoving Y/N through it once it opened. 

“Figure it out!” she tugged the door shut. 

Y/N sighed and leaned heavily against the door before sliding all the way down to sit on the floor, dropping her head between her knees. 

“I’m sorry Ella yelled at you, she can be a little protective sometimes,” Alessia gave an awkward laugh. 

Y/N didn’t react. 

Alessia fidgeted on the spot while the tension grew in the room. 

“Umm, I guess we do need to talk about it.” 

Y/N tipped her head back with a thud to the door, “guess so. Who doesn’t love ripping open old wounds?” 

“I really don’t know what it is you think I’m supposed to remember.”

“Of course you don’t,” Y/N shook her head with a sad laugh, “since you don’t remember, I obviously just need to get over it. So, I’ll tell Leah it’s all good, you can call your attack dog off, and we can go back to avoiding each other.” 

“That’s not,” Alessia started before Y/N cut her off. 

“Leah!” Y/N called through the door, knowing she would be waiting to make sure the pair did what they were supposed to do, “we worked it out, can we come out of time out now?” 

“No you didn’t!” she called back, “quit behaving like children and work it out!” 

“Damnit,” Y/N muttered.

“Maybe you should just tell me what I did and then we can really work it out instead of having to pretend the rest of our careers?”

Y/N watched Alessia for a minute to determine if she was being sincere or not, “you called me.” 

She shrugged like it was nothing. 

Alessia waited, confused how a phone call that she can’t remember could cause so much trouble. 

“It was the night after you won the ACC your first season. You called me from the hotel, in a hallway or something.” 

She remembered that night. She remembered the seniors brought in a bunch of alcohol to the hotel, the staff ignoring to celebrate the win themselves, and all the players being very drunk. She didn’t remember calling Y/N at all though. 

“You started telling me all about the win and how you got the start and played well. And I was so happy for you. I remember saying how proud I was of you. Then,” 

Y/N paused, opening, and closing her mouth a few times, seeming to work up the courage to tell the blonde what happened. Alessia still working to remember what happened, all she remembered was being really drunk and happy, then hungover the next day. 

“Then you said you loved me,” Y/N finally made eye contact. 

“And before I could say anything you told me you had loved me for a long time, and you described what you loved about me and said some of the sweetest things I had ever heard. You told me you couldn’t wait to see me in person again because all you could think about was kissing me and holding me.”

Alessia inhaled sharply. How could she not remember any of this?

“I told you I would say it back, but not until you were sober enough to enjoy it like I was.” 

Y/N seemed to smile despite herself. 

“You demanded I say it back to you, so I did. But I made you promise me that you would call me the next day sober, and tell me all of that again, so I could say it back to you properly.” 

Alessia felt like she was watching a train crash. She knew how the story was going to end, but she needed to hear the words come from Y/N.

Y/N looked away now, head back between her knees, “you didn’t call back.” 

“I didn’t call back,” Alessia repeated them to herself. 

How could she say all the things she had always wanted to say to Y/N, and never call her back? 

Alessia felt the air leave her chest, her knees buckled, and she collapsed on to the bed next to her. 

“I tried to bring it up once,” Y/N continued, unaware of the turmoil the blonde was going through in front of her. 

“I waited a couple days, thought maybe you needed to get some courage back or something. You called me and I thought you were going to talk about it again, but do you remember what you talked about instead?” 

Y/N had yet to look back up. Alessia nodded to herself, this she all remembered. 

“I asked what I should wear for my date that night.”

“Exactly. And for weeks, you told me all about this girl that you thought you loved.” 

She never loved that girl. 

“But, I, but,” she stumbled to come up with some kind of response, “I’m so sorry Y/N.” 

“It’s alright, past is in the past. It was just a drunken confession fueled by an exciting win. I shouldn’t still be so affected by it. I knew I never should have let myself get my hopes up, so really, it’s my fault.”

Y/N finally pushed herself up and opened the door looking at the blonde sitting on the floor across from them. 

“We worked it out, can I please leave now?”

Leah opened her mouth to argue there was no way they were done but stopped herself when she saw the broken look on Y/N’s face. Immediately she stood up and pulled Y/N into her arms, agreeing they could be done. 

Ella went to push herself in to check on Alessia only to pushed back out by a hand on the chest from the blonde. She gripped Y/N’s bicep when she went to walk away, tugging her back into the room. 

“We aren’t done.” 

“Please Alessia, please can we be done? I promise I’ll leave you alone and just stay out of your way,” she looked to Leah, “I promise to play better, can we please just drop it?” 

“I meant what I said.”

“You don’t even remember what you said,” Y/N leaned her weight into Leah, taking as much comfort as she could, “I felt like a fool for believing them, I still feel like a fool.” 

Leah remained silent, offering her support to Y/N. Ella made her way to Alessia when she saw the tears in her best friends eyes, she wanted to demand Y/N fix whatever she started. 

Alessia shook her head, keeping her friend back. She deserved to suffer alone right now. Y/N had been feeling this pain for years alone. 

“I don’t remember the phone call or what I said, but I remember what I felt. I remember that I never wanted to let you go in the airport before I left. I remember that when anything happened you were the first person I ever wanted to tell. I remember that I broke up with that girl because she, well because she wasn’t you. Everything she did I compared to you. And everyone after that wasn’t you.”

Alessia hated that they needed to have this conversation in the hallway right now, but she would tell Y/N anything she needed to hear. 

“I remember freezing my first time seeing you at camp because you were just as gorgeous as I remembered. I remember the medical staff almost failing me because my heart rate was too high while you ran next to me.” 

Y/N pulled away from Leah and was watching the blonde intently. 

“Fuck, I hate that I can’t remember that phone call. And I hate that I can’t remember you saying it back to me, because that was all I could dream of while I was there. I have loved you since I knew what love was, Y/N.” 

Ella and Leah both slowly made their exit and let the pair continue talking, Leah gently nudging Y/N back towards the room. Alessia immediately stepped back, hoping that Y/N would follow her back, not taking her eyes off her. 

Y/N tentatively followed her in, gently closing the door behind her. 

The room was silent while both worked out where to go from there. All their feeling were out in the open to see.

Alessia realized she was still going to need to be the one to take the lead and steer the conversation. 

“I cannot say sorry enough for the pain that I put you through Y/N, but I really want us to try and be friends again.” 

Y/N nodded along. 

“I think I need some time Al.”

Alessia melted at the nickname only Y/N used. 

“That’s fair Y/N. Can we start as roommates?” 

“We can start as roommates,” she confirmed. 

The striker slowly stepped closer to Y/N, stiffly opening her arms for a hug. She only needed to wait a moment before Y/N stepped in. 

Both women were ridged to begin with, gradually melting into the long-lost touch. 

Alessia woke the next morning to Y/N still in her bed. The pair even made their way to breakfast together, sitting at the same table. Ella continuously flicked her eyes between the two, seemingly waiting for something to blow up again. 

No one else said anything, allowing the friendship to repair itself. 

That night, Alessia laid wide awake staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t get her thoughts to stop whirring. She hadn’t been able to get them to stop since they spoke the day before. 

“Why did you let me talk about those girls all the time if you were waiting for me to call back?” 

Y/N let out a sigh and rolled on to her back. 

“I only ever wanted you to be happy Al. And if that meant you being with someone else, then I was going to just accept that.”

“But you ran away.” 

It was blunt, but not confrontational. 

“Uhh yea I did. Eventually I just couldn’t hear about them anymore. I did my best to, I really did. But talking to you was, it was, god, it was the best part of my day,” Y/N smiled, tilting her head to see Alessia already looking at her, “then when we would start talking about your girl, I just couldn’t handle hearing it anymore.” 

The smile dropped on Y/N’s face, but the pair continued to stare at each other. 

“I still love you, you know, I never stopped,” Alessia whispered. 

Y/N nodded. 

The rest of camp Alessia and Y/N the awkwardness slowly between slowly dissipated.

By the next camp, it was as if the last few years had never happened. After the last camp ended, they texted every day, calling almost weekly, they had even managed a few dinners. 

The pair were attached at the hip for the entirety of the camp. 

Alessia could hardly contain herself now that Y/N was back in her life. She constantly sought Y/N out, her eyes seeking out the girl at any chance she could. Her body always seemed to drift closer than it should. 

“You’re going to be dehydrated if you keep drooling over Y/N,” Ella rolled her eyes as she flicked a dirty sock at her friend.

The blonde scowled at her friend, gently kicking her in the shin, she took her eyes off Y/N and continued getting dressed. 

“I’m trying. We just became friends again, I can’t push her for more already, I won’t ruin our friendship again.”

“You know she’s waiting for you this time,” Leah nudged Y/N on the other side of the change room. The defender seeing the way Alessia had been watching Y/N all camp. 

“I’m not getting hurt like that again Leah,” Y/N spoke firmly, shoving her stuff in bag before storming out of the change room. 

Alessia watched the interaction. Leah gave her a sad look. It was obvious the striker was doing her best to hold back her feelings. 

It felt like a delicate balance. Push enough that Y/N knew she still loved her, hold back enough to not spook her away. 

By the end of camp, the pair had danced around all each other. Alessia would push a little, Y/N would retreat, so Alessia would pull back. Alessia remained steady though, she knew what she did hurt Y/N deeply, she would be patient until Y/N was ready for more. 

The last night, the team went out after their game made things difficult for Alessia. She was sat at a table with Y/N pressed tight against her. Feeling the slight buzz from the win and the liquor Alessia leaned into her in return. 

Y/N’s hand kept drifting to Alessia’s thigh under the table unconsciously, before taking it away, mumbling an apology. After the third time it happened, Alessia grabbed her wrist before she could pull it away. Alessia watched for a reaction, Y/N bit her lip, giving her thigh a brief squeeze and left her hand there. 

Several shots later, they all moved to the dance floor. Alessia pulled herself away from Y/N, knowing she would not be able to keep herself from pushing their invisible boundary formed.   

Ella rolled her eyes when she saw what Alessia was doing. She grabbed Alessia by the shoulders and forced her to turn around so her chest would be flush against Y/N’s back. Alessia tried to pull away, shooting a look at Ella over her shoulder. Ella just shook her head and guided Alessia’s arms around Y/N before walking away to leave the pair alone. 

Y/N leaned into the touch, then turned into the blonde so their chests were tight together. The motion causing her hands to drop to low on Y/N’s hips. 

Alessia gripped her hips, pulling her in even closer. Y/N draped her arms over Alessia’s shoulder. They moved in time to the music together, the outside world tuned out. 

Alessia dipped her chin, brushing her nose alone Y/N’s jaw, her lips just brushing the delicate skin of her neck. She gripped Y/N’s hip tighter at the sigh Y/N let out, her control slowly slipping away.

“I love you,” Alessia rasped out, kissing just below Y/N’s ears. 

Their bubble immediately popped. 

Everything sounded loud and overwhelming to Y/N. Her whole body went rigid, and she started to pull away. 

Alessia immediately knew she pushed too much too soon. She tried to tighten her grip to keep Y/N close to her, but it was too late, the girl was already pushing her way out of the crowded of the dance floor. 

She wasted no time rushing after her. 

She skidded around the corner to see Y/N leaned against the wall, head in her hands, trying to catch her breath. 

Alessia slowly approached her, “Y/N, I am so sorry.” 

“I just need a second Al,” Y/N shook her head, waving a hand to keep the blonde away. 

Alessia stopped moving, giving Y/N the space she asked for. 

“I have wanted this for so long Al.” 

Y/N anxiously paced in a circle. She wanted so bad to rush over and kiss the blonde or go back into the bar and be back in her arms. But she was so scared to get hurt by the woman again. 

“I can’t be hurt again,” Y/N finally stopped moving and looked towards the blonde. 

Alessia wanted to the cry when she saw the unshed tears in Y/N’s eyes, she looked devastated. 

Taking a breath, Alessia gathered her thoughts before continuing.

“I wish I could promise I would never hurt you again, but I can’t. I can promise I will do anything I can to never hurt you again. I meant what I said in the club, I meant it when I said it months ago, and I will mean it every day for the rest of my life.” 

She had slowly closed the distance between herself and Y/N. Slowly she gently curled both hands to hold Y/N’s face, thumb soothing across her cheeks. 

Y/N leaned into the touch. Letting a slow breath out, she slowly closed the distance, letting their lips brush. The touch so gentle it was almost like it didn’t happen. 

They rested their foreheads together. 

Alessia clenched her jaw, she wanted to lean in again and kiss Y/N again. Y/N’s hands came up to rest on Alessia’s chest. 

“I mean it Y/N, I will love you forever and I will spend every day showing you.” 

Y/N curled her hands into the fabric of Alessia’s shirt and pulled her in. They slammed their lips together at the same time. This kiss more of everything. It let out all the feelings each had been holding back since they were teens. 

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered out when they pulled away. 

[posletsvet]

Thoughts on Geto Suguru's Psychology Pre-Defection

There's something that I've been meaning to talk about for a while now, and that is Geto's apparent tendency to conceal his negative impulses that allows for, in my view, faulty interpretations stating that he was faking his righteous beliefs all along just because assuming high moral ground gave him a sense of superiority and fed his ego. Meanwhile I would argue that, on contrary, this habit is more indicative of Geto's insecurities and heightened sense of self-awareness.

My thoughts on this underneath the cut, but beware: it's going to be long!

To begin with, I think there are two major factors playing into the misconception that I mentioned. The first one boils down to prejudice forcing people to look upon younger Geto through the lense of a person he would go on to become. The kind of cautious logic that says that a deeply empathetic, caring highschooler couldn't have turned into a murderous cult leader preaching the merits of genocide, and thus seeks ways to dehumanize him from the very beginning (because that's a terrible concept to wrap your mind around, I agree). And the second factor being... well, that Suguru's behaviour really does come off as fake at times.

We experience 'negative' emotions as naturally as 'positive' ones, and despite some of them are conventionally accepted as 'good' whereas others are painted as 'bad', no emotion is inherently harmful or invalid; they all are a part of what makes us human. While it's undoubtedly a chilly and ominous concept for someone to be completely devoid of any positive traits, just as unnatural it is to display positive responses only. Perfection is stored away at museums, no living breathing human being can go through their life without being affected by negative impulses or thinking. But more often than not negative emotions are condemned and stigmatized (in the end, we still refer to them as 'negative'), and self-consciousness can make one ashamed or guilty of experiencing them. The end result of this would be trying to hide your feelings under one more appealing appearance, creating a warp between what's intuitive and what's manifest, an inadequate emotional response.

Gojo (at least in his teenage years) is widely outspoken and doesn't hesitate to outwardly express himself, whether verbally or via body language. It probably takes root in Gojo's upbringing: he was spoilt rotten, revered for being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, his every whim indulged and tended to. There simply wasn't any need for him to try and make a good impression by faking docility and emotions that are more pleasant and easier to digest. Gojo may be boisterous and bratty and obnoxious, but he isn't trying to 'trick' anyone into thinking he's better than he really is, and this paints a more sincere, believable picture to the audience.

On the other hand, Geto's emotions, partly due to his more solemn demeanour, are often toned down or consciously concealed. For instance, when Riko manages to strike a nerve in him, his response is to immediately plaster on mawkish 'customer service' smile to not give away his annoyance. This scene is especially interesting to me because of how Amanai's reaction gives voice to the audience's concerns. Referring to Suguru, she says, 'You look like a liar!' -- and by doing so calls him out on his tendency to mask negative emotions. Intuitively, she can still read his feelings in his body language, in the delay in his expression rearranging itself into a smile, and so can the viewer. We know he's annoyed, and his words about having no intention to harm Riko don't exactly align with how he behaves (even if in a playful manner) a moment after saying them. It creates a tangible contradiction between what he says his intentions are and what his actions speak of, between the appearances and what lies behind them. And this contradiction raises suspicion, in a way that if somebody's making an effort to hide something, then there must be something to hide.

In retrospect this doubt might seem reinforced and justified. I see how it's easy to fall into thinking that Geto, having become a criminal who's done unspeakably cruel things and who backs up his delusional ideals with bigoted reasoning, should've been hiding darker parts of himself behind all those fake smiles and talks about righteousness. But pinning the blame on Geto alone by claiming that he had violent tendencies to begin with is essentially disregarding systematic issues that the story strives so much to convey to the audience. Holding innate individual qualities accountable for the catastrophe is basically the sort of thinking that the higher-ups display, whose main strategy for dealing with problems is public scapegoating and disposing of every single threat to the current order by giving out one death sentence after the other. I don't think we as the viewers are supposed to reach the conclusion that Suguru is at fault for what happened, which is not to say he's faultless, nonetheless the narrative goes to great lengths to make us sympathize with him, not the other way around.

Now, there's really a handful of ways in which Geto's character seems to contradict himself. He shares overspilling empathy for the people around him, that is his character's core trait, but that very empathy spells out his downfall when it degrades into resentment and hate. He displays a largely considerate and sympathetic demeanour, but he's first introduced to the audience as someone who backhandedly bad-mouths Utahime for being weak. He's one half of the strongest duo, but whereas Gojo is a natural-born genius, Geto evidently struggles with his powers. His entire career as a curse user is based on the mentality which justifies the means to an end, but reaching the end goal is impossible for him as he is, Geto himself as much as admits to it during his last conversation with Satoru. He sets on his wild-goose chase for power, but ends up stagnating to the point where his use of Curse Manipulation in the Hidden Inventory Arc is much more inventive and creative than in Jujutsu Kaisen 0. The list goes on, but you got the gist.

To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in a curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality.

I believe this to be such a poignant phrase when it comes to Geto's characterization because of how well, in my view, it encapsulates the conflict of his character -- or, if you will, the contradiction of it. It succinctly expresses his outlook on things, where he views the world how it's ideally supposed to be rather than how it realistically is. I've actually somewhat already elaborated on this in my very first rambling on here:

To me, Geto seems to be a type of person who needs something to guide him, some clear-cut ideal to make it possible for him to navigate through his life. He is pedantic in that sense: the sharp outlines of his views define his surroundings, the very way he looks at things and perceives them. He needs everything to fall precisely in line with his own set of ideals, which seems to be quite verified and well-adjusted within his mind, like a strict and refined concept he constructed for himself, like a routine he's used to following out of pure principal. His own belief system being so defined, it's that which makes him indulge in excessive discourse on the subject of morality and responsibility, like he's patiently laying out the basics in front of a disobedient child to help them wrap their mind around some fundamental truth that is so obvious and natural for him.

In a way, Geto concealing his negative emotions is not a false front put up against scrutinizing looks that could reveal his 'true nature'. Quite the opposite, I think it speaks more of his well-meaning intentions. When trying to change the way things are, start at yourself, and I guess this is the principle Geto's trying to apply here. By following through his own ideal, Geto does his best to be an upright person he believes himself obliged to be, whether that means forcing himself to absorb curses or putting on a customary smile. It might be juvenile and wishful thinking on his part, probably akin to 'fake it till you make it', but it's important to keep in mind that at that time he was still but a teenager. Moreover, he was put on par with somebody as praised within jujutsu society as Gojo, he must've felt on top of the world, too entranced by their warm spring of youth to care too much about the occasional slips. With Satoru by his side, I imagine Geto could afford to cut some slack and participate in the mischief. Later we see post-defection Geto drop his frivolous facade only when he's entirely alone -- another hint at how Gojo was really the only person Suguru allowed himself to confide in, that is untill the SPVI put uncrossable distance between them.

While I do say that Geto's intentions are well-meaning, the way he positions himself actually reveals some quite problematic aspects of his mindset. Namely, his attitude towards non-sorcerers, whom he clearly sets into a different category from himself and his fellow sorcerers. Regular people lack crucial understanding, they are weak because they are helpless, therefore they have to be shielded from the source of harm. This is a largely patronizing concept of empathy, since it's based on the notion that the 'weak' are inherently inferior to Geto himself and others involved in jujutsu society. It's interesting how it's reflected in Geto's insistence on the necessity of curtains. The use of curtains furthers the extent of non-sorcerers' ignorance, they never learn how to stay out of harm's way as they are deprived even of as much as their perception of the existing danger. It reminds me of how a parent would brush a child's concerns aside because they're too young and naive and do not need to be aware of adult life's hardships. Just like Geto's paternalistic outlook, it does not come from malice or negligence, it's just an attempt to keep someone less experienced and skilled safe. Nonetheless it's harmful as it puts that person in a position which denies them agency.

In my view, Suguru's fake smiles are an extension of his acute sense of responsibility. In front of those over whom he assumes responsibility, he presents himself as calm, collected and dependable as if it's supposed to reassure them. It's his job to protect them and make them feel safe, so there's no need showing them his own struggle. Even if such thinking is condescending, it's not in any way malicious. Geto's entire character arc would be simply non-existent if he wasn't completely genuine in his sentiments.

So why do I talk about Geto's insecurities when first introducing the topic of this post? Well, I'm about to take a deep dive into the field of speculation and theories and finally get to the point why I'm writing all this in the first place (took me long enough, lmao). There's also a reason why I brought up Gojo's upbringing when talking about his personality and how it contrasts Geto's. You see, like Satoru's way of dealing with his emotions can be linked to his childhood experience, Suguru's behaviour might also give us some clues about the circumstances he grew up in.

The more I look into it, the more convinced I become that Geto was in one way or another exposed to emotional trauma in his childhood. Remember when I mentioned inadequate emotional responses? While being one, smiling in reaction to stress may act as a defense mechanism of sorts, shielding the person from the chronic nature of the unpleasant experience. It also may serve as a way to avoid alienation by others who are not privy to the source of your distress or are not comfortable with it. Affiliative smiles are motivated by social factors, it's a tool used to create and maintain social connections. Human beings are hardwired to connect with others, feeling alienated by the people around us causes us great pain.

The thing us, we must assume that Geto is relatively new to the jujutsu world in the flashback arc. Given his non-sorcerer background, chances are he was the only one in his immediate surroundings with the ability to see and exterminate curses. There couldn't have been a way for him to confide in someone with his concerns and fears born from interacting with something only he could see. So I assume that eventually that resulted in Suguru developing an unhealthy habit of masking his emotions before the ones he cared about. And as over time he grew more aware of his abilities and got a grasp on how his CT works, I imagine Geto committed to exorcising curses in order to protect ordinary people from them -- all by himself. This, in turn, must have solidified that conception in Suguru's head which ultimately othered him from the people around him and put them in a position inferior to him since they were the ones depending on him and his powers.

As Geto should've mostly kept to himself, I also see how he might have grown heavily reliant on his analytical mind. Overthinking is a habit developed early on in life as a way to wade through feeling uncertain or unsafe. It's an attempt to make sense of confusing reality by applying an analytical lense to it and compartmentalizing it into neat, easily understandable categories. And also a way to regain sense of self when you find yourself in a situation you otherwhise have little to no control over. And while over-analyzing can create a sense of security, it may also interfere with a person's emotional responses. I guess it's something that could be applied to Geto, too, because for such a self-reflective character he always struck me as someone with oddly little regard of his own feelings.

As a side note, I like how Geto's tendency to over-analyze things is shown in that one scene when Yaga's briefing him and Gojo on the upcoming mission. Suguru's clearly presented as someone who's very mindful of how the world around him works. Understanding helps him assign meaning to different aspects of life, and he relies upon it heavily. Also, as someone who's been uprooted from his former society and introduced instead to an entirely different world, I guess it's important for Geto to fit in. Him being highly knowledgeable about such essential details is, in my view, indicative of such effort on his part. Whereas Satoru simply does not care about such details, the reality makes sense to him as it is as he was born perfectly fit into it.

Last but not least, Geto's infamously guilty of a dichotomous, or black-and-white, outlook on things. This is the all-or-nothing mentality that leaves little to no room for nuance and does not allow two opposite statements to be true at once. It's a common cognitive distortion that manifests immature thought; a rigid mindset more often than not bordering on extreme. Meanwhile the very foundation of Geto's downfall is the inability to adapt to the complicated reality which doesn't align perfectly with his idealistic vision. He ultimately failed to wrap his head around the world with grey areas, his black-and-white thinking thinking prevented him from doing so.

The development of such maladaptive personality traits has been repeatedly linked to the effects of childhood trauma. If the environment which a person grew up in was traumatic and chaotic, black-and-white thinking might have given them a sense of control through rationalization. That's why a mentality which doesn't allow for nuance and doesn't reflect life in its intricate complexity comes off as childishly simplistic. Seeing the world in all-or-nothing terms in some way means reverting to your inner child. And this is actually something that Shoko accuses Geto of during their brief conversation in Shinjuku. In his thinking Geto doesn't grow past his traumatic experience, whether it was his parents actively abusing his abilities for their own gain or the ache of being alienated at such an early age.

If the nature of Geto's relationship with his parents was abusive, it would also explain his altruism. Suguru goes out of his way to express his concern for well-being of those around him, and he does genuinely care, but all the while it could be a way for him to tend to his own unsatisfied needs by helping others. He seems to be highly attuned to others through his empathy, but also somewhat has trouble advocating for himself, resulting in harmful patterns of self-sacrifice or self-neglect.

It's true, there is a lot of contradictions housed within Geto's character, which are evident in his mindset and his actions. But I don't believe this to be due to sloppy writing, on contrary -- it's the kind of writing that speaks through detail and nuance and invites the reader to ponder why is this or that character the way they are.

[eliciria]

Ahmmm..

Headcanons for Leona Kingscholar while being friends with benefits with Reader/yuu

Angst and fluff??

a/n : thanks so much for requesting! My first post that actually shows my writing! wow! Sorry if it's a bit more angsty than fluff, i naturally go there hehe. Hope you enjoy!

whisper to the trees... (ask box) : open

check my about me/request rules here

wc : 0.8k words

cws : suggestive but still fluff, miscommunication phase for like 2 seconds, swearing, kind of ooc leona, potentially happy ending? gn reader

song playing : this is how it feels by laufey ft. d4vd

Leona Kingscholar with a friends to benefit! Relationship

I'll be so real right now, he actually wouldn't do any type of PDA with you. Even if you lean to more of the affectionate and almost lover-type phase of your 'friendship', he won't even attempt to try and hold your hand out in the open.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want to, though.

It's just that his pride kind of gets in the way when he attempts to brush his fingers against yours a little longer.

Pride is also probably the main reason why both of you remain friends. You think he wants to remain friends, while he struggles to pour his true emotions to you.

It leads into a cycle of ghosting then love bombing. The lack of responsibility within the interactions of both of you, before finally missing you becomes toxic.

He misses your supposed first dates, before apologizing later in the night. After reconciling, you'd attempt to meet up with him again past your `nightly activities` , but he misses it again. The cycle repeats.

Frankly, you were a bit sick of it. But you gave him one last chance to talk it out with you after class. To figure it out together.

So when he notices you right after he flirts with a random student(for them to carry one of the group projects, that is). He can't help but regret to have confessed earlier.

You walk hastily, trying to avoid the awkward situation you just witnessed. You finally got your answer, but you wished it wasn't in this way.

You pretended that you weren't in denial, and your actions showed the opposite. You really were. Tears were fighting to come out, and your lips trembled in both sadness and anger.

You only snapped out of it when Leona grabbed your hand a bit too tightly, breaking you out of your train of thought.

"Are you seriously walking away?" He asked you. How funny. You scoff.

"After witnessing that? Any person would."

"You don't understand." Really? Is this how he is going to act? You roll your eyes, tears sliding.

"Just what do I not understand? That you pulled that shit on me? Just how long do you think I can handle this bullshit?" Your voice attempts to remain stable, but the broken sobs break your attempt to look like you didn't care. You were just friends, yes. But the nights where he had "loved" you felt too much now.

" Yuu--"

"What, huh? I'm tired, so tired of you treating me like a whore. Like someone with no dignity. You treat me like a friend, and I'm happy you do. But when we try to step forward, you act like I'm just a fucking bed warmer! Just what do you want from me Leona?! I can't keep up with this. I love you, but I'm tired. Please, just stop-"

You get interrupted with your face being buried in his chest. He was embracing you, with a bit too much gentleness. He was stroking your hair, muttering a "shhh...". You hit his chest again and again, your broken sobs muffled. It would happen all over again. You'd fall again, and he'd do nothing but let you.

He watched as you screamed at him. It was understandable, he had refused to show any sign that he had truly loved you. But when he picked up the noise of students' footsteps, he can't help but want this to be cut short.

Nobody can hear your cries, unless it was him.

He immediately embraced you, both in comfort, and to blur your cries.

As you hit him as he hugs you, he gripped you a bit tighter. The punches were weak, and he was too focused on stopping you from crying.

Students passed by the both of you, glaring at the scene. A couple hugging in a hallway? Out of all the places?

But they rushed on as they noticed his death stare. The second they had tried to look at your face, he was tempted to pounce at them right then or there. He fought the urge to actually commit the act; he simply moved himself so all they would see was his back, and not you.

After a few more minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I do love you. I really fucking do. The only person I want to see is you. The only person I want to be with is you. I just...don't know how to tell you that. I acted incredibly douchey, so i apologize. For everything. For all the dates I missed. For the missed opportunities to say I love you. For not being able to give you what you deserve. I'll change. Fuck, I'll do anything. I need you, so please. Don't leave."

You remain still, before letting out a jagged breath. You held onto the side of his jacket, and he rests his hand on your neck, the other on your waist. You look at him.

"I won't."

a/n : the cycle continues! if you liked this, please like or repost it! again, my asks are open, and thanks for reading!

[gurugirl]

A Balancing Act | Ch. 2*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Y/n learns that Harry kissed another woman and decides to move on. Harry crashes Y/n's date to get her to change her mind. But then he makes a shocking discovery.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral sex sort of), angst

Word Count: 9,739

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

Returning to LA after his tour in Latin America, Harry was sitting with Pat in his lovely house. Matcha tea was served and she started off by asking him how he was feeling emotionally lately. She tended to want to start off their sessions by letting him talk about his emotions and how he was dealing with his busy life, reserving the topic of relationships and love until toward the end. It gave her a good gauge of his overall well-being.

“I miss home. It’s always the hardest when I feel like I’m missing out on so much. Feels like I’m ignoring what’s really important in life and focusing too much on myself. Feels selfish. I know that no one thinks that. My mum is always telling me to not worry but it’s just hard. Especially because I’m closing in on 30 and just feels like I’ve just been playing around for all my life.”

“But this is your work. And you do work hard. You’re just lucky that you’re talented enough that you can delve into this kind of creativity and make a living from it. You’re putting more responsibility on yourself than is necessary. You’re on your own path, Harry. And while from the outside everything looks fun and glamorous, even you know the truth because you live it. It’s hard. So don’t discount yourself by feeling like you’re not doing enough. Your mom is okay. She can take care of herself. Gemma is okay too. She’s doing well. Your friends and all the people that matter in your life support you. Comparing yourself to the 9-5 worker isn’t going to do you any good. You’re a successful artist. An entrepreneur. Just imagine if you weren’t. You’d be in Manchester or London and working some mundane job. Sure you’d be around your family but you wouldn’t be thriving like you are now. I think you’d be miserable and if you’re miserable your family will feel that.”

Harry nodded, “Probably. I guess I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“I can’t either. But it’s more about how you’re dealing with that guilt. I think as you’re getting older your priorities are shifting a little. And that’s okay. It’s good to welcome new awareness. Just be sure to not dwell on it because no one else is.”

Harry sniffed a laugh and smiled. Pat was right of course. He knew all of this. They’d been talking about his guilt a lot more recently and he recognized it was more because there were particular milestones that society set for people. And Harry had met many milestones but the basic ones like love, family, stability, children were all things he’d had yet to really achieve. Of course, he had a family but not his own, with a spouse and kids and a little house in town… but that wasn’t his to have yet. And the little house in town might wind up looking more like a bunch of houses in different parts of the world. He couldn’t deny he was lucky but he also couldn’t ignore that he felt like he’d been shirking his adult responsibilities.

“Okay. I can tell you need to say something. Want to move on from this subject?”

Harry grinned and repositioned himself to face more squarely toward Pat, “I met someone.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“I met her in Chicago. She was staying at the hotel I was in but she was there for an art show, she’s this really talented artist. But anyway… we just hit it off. We’ve been talking on the phone almost every night. I really like her.”

Pat nodded and placed her mug down, “That’s great. So, she stayed at the hotel you were in but how did you come to actually meet her?”

Harry described the scene at the bar and then how he invited her to his show the following evening, “I just… I don’t know. She’s not famous or anything but she acted like I was just a normal guy. And we really connected mentally and physically. She really seems to like all the things I like.”

“You mean, in bed? Or have you really gotten to know her on a deeper level?” She smirked and tilted her head. Harry was like this. He could connect with all kinds of people and it made his heart swell and lurch and then as fast as it filled up it all deflated just as quickly.

“Well, not just in bed. But yeah. We just clicked.”

“Look, I think that’s great. Just remember, you are okay as a single man too. Correct? You don’t need to be loved all the time. You are enough. You don’t have to fall in love and get married and have children to be a whole person. Society says you need that but you get to choose your path. But if you really like, this, uh… what’s her name?”

“Y/n. Even her name is pretty.”

“Y/n. Well, if you like her enough just take your time. Get to know her. Long distance is hard and phone calls are good but no substitute for face-to-face time. Do you think she’s as serious about this as you are?”

Harry shrugged and pursed his lips to the side, “I think so. I mean… we’ve talked about a lot and she’s told me so many things about herself. I guess I haven’t asked her to make it official, though.”

“Probably wise to wait to make it official. Jumping into a serious relationship could backfire as you well know. And there is the matter that you’re on the road so often. Did you see anyone else while you were away?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I actually really like Y/n. Didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.”

Pat sighed, “You do realize you were supposedly spotted leaving a party with a woman people claimed you were kissing. Right? Just a couple of weeks ago. Which would have been after your Chicago shows.”

Harry groaned and nodded. He did know. His PR team told him about the supposed fan sighting and there was even a photo of him with a woman. Who he did kiss, but it wasn’t a kiss that meant anything. It was just a bit of fun and Harry had had a good amount of tequila. He honestly was just flirting and wanted to kiss the woman. But of course, when she wanted to take things further he declined because Y/n had been on his mind.

That was one thing about Harry. He was flirty and he’d kiss people he never intended on sleeping with. He kissed men and women and flirted all the time but usually, it was more friendly than sexual. Sometimes people got the wrong idea but that was just how Harry was. He loved getting close to people and touching. Loved hugs and kisses especially if he knew the person.

Even when he was with his last ex she’d gotten used to him kissing others and holding hands with someone else. But it wasn’t always very well received. Like the time she left one of the parties they were at early because she was tired and then he was filmed making out with a friend on a couch in front of people. He had a lot of explaining to do for that one. She forgave him but it hurt her. She cried. Harry felt bad that he’d done it. He loved how it felt to kiss someone and have them kiss him back, the zip of excitement and the tiniest bit of tension.

“Yes. I’m aware. I don’t know that she’s heard anything just yet. I think the photo only got published like yesterday or day before.”

“Well, it’s probably a good idea to talk to her about it before she sees the photo and reads the salacious headlines. That is if you’re interested in still seeing her.”

He nodded and looked down at his lap.

“Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing with all your new endeavors coming up. The timelines and the travel that will entail.”

.           .           .

Y/n was usually late with getting news or updates on celebrities. She spent a lot of her time painting during the day so unless she took a break and used her free time to peruse social media sites she might not realize things like the fact that the man she was beginning to develop feelings for had kissed another woman while he was away in another country.

Just as on this day. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d done as of yet. That is until Kat, her best friend, called in the middle of her glazing a painting she’d just completed.

She hadn’t told anyone about Harry except for Kat. Kat would keep her mouth shut about everything. Y/n knew she could trust her friend with her new secret. Not that Harry told her to not tell anyone but he did mention it would be better if very few people knew.

“Hello?” She spoke into the receiver as she capped the glaze and wiped her hands on her bibs.

“Hey babe. Did you see the link I sent you?”

“Uh… no. I’ve been working on a piece all morning.”

“Put me on speaker. Take a look.”

Y/n clicked the sound to the speaker and opened up her texts to see the link from Kat.

The moment the Daily Mail website came up with a blurry, dark photo of Harry standing very close to a woman she felt her heart drop.

Reading the caption of the article:

STYLES SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN IN COLOMBIA

“Are you seeing it?” Kat asked.

“Yeah. I am.”

The article mentioned him leaving with the woman after a party and Y/n put the phone back to her ear, not wanting to read more in that moment, “Thank you, Kat. I’m glad you showed me.”

“Of course. I mean… it’s Daily Mail so it might not be anything, but I just wanted you to have that info just in case. You know?”

Y/n nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, “Yeah. I know. I’m gonna go, though. I need to finish my canvas. But I’ll call you later, okay?”

Letting out a shaky breath she sat down so she could read the whole article, line by line. Obsess over the information and then google to find more websites and gossip pages, supposed first-hand accounts, unnamed sources talking about how he’s been seeing her for a while and he’s excited, other blurry photos of him at the party drinking…

She shook her head and stood up, locking her phone and putting it down on the table near the bottle of glaze. She looked over her canvas and figured she could take a break. It would be good for her to get out and take a walk. Clear her mind and figure out what she wanted to do.

Her walk resulted in her only dwelling on everything. He hadn’t called her in a couple of days but she knew he was traveling back to LA. She felt like he’d probably needed the rest from all the shows, the jetlag, time zone changes… but perhaps it was because he was seeing someone else now.

And that was certainly possible. They didn’t know one another all that well. She hadn’t even told him the whole story about her husband yet. About what had happened to him. And there had been no commitment made. They had sex in his hotel room. A few times. And it was really good. She felt they had a unique connection. Her feelings for him grew a little more quickly than was wise probably and the Facetime calls with all the revelations of things from their past and what they wanted in the future felt like she was talking to someone whom she could see herself with. He’d also given her his personal cellphone number which she knew was sort of a big deal.

But of course, that was ridiculous. This was Harry Styles and even if he did like her (which she was sure he liked her on some level) that didn’t mean they’d end up together. He could choose anyone. It certainly wouldn’t be her.

Later that night as she snacked on dill pickles and popcorn she fell into the hole of the search engine on her laptop.

The night Harry was supposedly seen with the woman was a night he hadn’t called her (she checked her call log). He didn’t call her every night, but it was still noted. Then she found another “source” saying Harry was happier than he’d ever been and that the Colombian woman was spotted in LA with him.

He hadn’t called her again that night either. Closing her laptop she figured it was over. She wouldn’t be calling him to find out what was going on. He didn’t owe her anything and it would look weird and stalkery to be asking him about the other woman. As if she had any claim on him.

Opening up her DMs on Instagram she decided to check back in on Dante. He’d messaged her all that time ago and she’d left him on read once Harry came into the picture. Maybe it was time to find someone closer to being in her own league.

.           .           .

Harry had a little time off and he caught up on much-needed sleep and getting back into a normal routine. He’d planned on calling Y/n that night. He’d been back in LA for a few days and felt like he was back in the right time zone finally. But he wondered why he hadn’t heard from her at all either. Normally she’d send off a little text during the day. A meme or something that would make him laugh. But it was silence from her for almost five whole days. Not that he’d reached out either but still…

He wondered what she was doing. It was a Saturday night and when he realized she was two hours ahead of him he figured he might as well give her a ring to see how she was. It was nearly 9pm her time already.

But the call went to voicemail so he left a message, a smile on his face, “Hey you… haven’t heard from you in a few days figured I’d give you a call to see what’s happening. I’ve been back in LA for a bit and I’m all caught up on rest. Give me a call back when you’ve time!”

She didn’t return his call that evening.

The following day Harry checked his messages and texts but he’d still gotten nothing from her and it was already midday (yes, he’d slept in quite late since he was up late writing a new song he couldn’t get out of his head). It was odd.

Shooting off a text message to her he suddenly had a feeling that perhaps she was avoiding him. Perhaps she’d seen the articles about him with someone else. He hoped that wouldn’t deter her from wanting to see him again. Hoped that she’d at least let him explain.

He needed to do something about it if that was the case. He couldn’t let her slip away without even having had the chance to see where it could go.

.           .           .

She heard the voicemail. In fact, she saw her phone light up with a notification that he was calling her in real time.

But she’d just messaged Dante and they had plans to meet up the following weekend. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t already come to town for the art exhibit. She thought she’d missed her chance when she messaged Dante back and apologized for not responding sooner. But he was polite as ever and they made plans to see one another.

So she was going to move on from Harry. There was unlikely anything good to come of it anyway. She had an amazing night with him and a handful of orgasms she could reminisce on but he was a world-famous pop star and he was single and surely he wanted to play the field for as long as he could. She understood it, but that didn’t make the situation feel any better. Therefore, the only way to get over him and to move on was to stop contact with him and get back out there.

Plus, now that she’d been with a man after her husband she felt like it was time to start dating again. It had been fun with Harry and she could have fun with others too. Maybe she’d sleep around a bit. See what that was like. Sow her wild oats. She’d gotten married so young and had little experience before him… Yeah, it was time to get out and date.

The following day she saw a text from Harry after leaving a meeting with someone who knew an art dealer.

Was just thinking of you. Missed hearing your voice. I’m back in LA now. Call me or text back. 

She sat in her car and locked her phone, putting her head behind her on the headrest. What was he doing? She was kind of confused that he’d called her, left a voicemail, and then today had texted her. She really was trying to just move on. Figured he had too. But she was too curious not to call him. However, she’d keep him waiting until she was at home with a bottle of wine before she reached out. Maybe she’d hear him out. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the other woman. She wouldn’t be bringing it up unless he did, but he had to know she’d heard about it. Right?

So, she took the long way to her house, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and Chinese food before getting home.

She drew her curtains and took her clothes off, only wearing her panties and a tank top, and put her hair up in a messy bun on her head (like the real-deal messy buns, not those cute going-out-messy-on-purpose messy buns). Pouring herself a glass of wine and taking a big gulp she looked down at her cell phone as she sat on her couch and re-read his text.

For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how this conversation would play out but she wanted to find out what the result would be. This could possibly (most definitely) be the end for them. And she’d be okay with that if it were. Bummed, but fine. She still had her date with Dante to look forward to.

She dialed the number and put him on speaker as she leaned back into her couch and covered her face. She didn’t know if he’d pick up or not but she wanted to get this conversation out of the way.

“Hello!” Harry’s voice came over the speaker quickly. He sounded keyed up.

“Hi. It’s Y/n. You called and texted so I wanted to return your call.”

“Oh yeah… well, it’s been a few days. Was wondering how you were. So, yeah… How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. And you?”

Harry paused and noted the way she answered him in a clipped tone, cold. Not her normal friendly disposition.

“I’m well. Is… is everything all right?”

“Sure. Just doing my thing. Is everything all right with you?”

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “Yeah. Um… did you read something about me? Is that why you’re upset?”

Y/n laughed and took a sip of her wine. Here we go, she thought to herself.

“Do I sound upset to you, Harry?”

“You actually do. Yes. Look, if you’re pissed about the articles from when I was in Colombia, I just want you to know that all of that is blown out of proportion. Right? So-“

“Oh. Interesting So you’re saying you didn’t make out with a Colombian woman at a party in Bogota?” God, she hated to sound so jealous but he did bring it up first. She cringed as she let her hurt feelings surface, but it was too late to keep her cool like she intended.

Harry sighed loudly, “I just mean that’s all blown out of propor-“

“Yes, you said that. I’m asking if what is being said is true or not.”

“It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. I am a bit of a flirt and I kissed a woman but that was it! I swear. I thought of you the whole time-“

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I’m going on a date next weekend anyway. We’re free to see other people, right? And-“

“A date? Next weekend?”

She laughed, “Yes. A date. Next weekend. It’s not like you and I will get to see one another much anyway. If at all. So there’s no reason to drag this out. We had fun but it’s clearly not something we need to bother ourselves with.”

“Bother… what? I thought we really connected, Y/n. I’m confused. I really like you.”

“But how can you say that when you made out with someone else? I really like you too Harry but you’re seeing other people because you know as well as I do that this, whatever it is between us, was never serious. Right?”

“No. No that’s not true. And I didn’t make out with her! It was like a quick party kiss sort of thing. Damnit! I swear, Y/n. I’m sorry. I had a little too much tequila and I kissed her but I really was thinking about you and she wanted me to come with her to her room but I told her I was seeing someone and that was it! God, I fucked this up didn’t I?”

Y/n sat for a moment. She had to admit she was surprised by all of this. Surprised that he’d contacted her after she didn’t respond the first time, that he seemed upset about possibly having offended her or hurting her, and that he was acting like he really did like her. But she determined that it was best if they parted ways. She realized it would simply be too hard for this to work. And based on the way his fans obsessed over the Colombian woman and were already talking shit about her (when they didn’t even know who it was) she knew she was right. She had to put an end to it before she got her heart broken.

“There was never anything to fuck up, Harry. But, look… let’s be honest here okay? I’m just a regular gal. I’m not your type, not the type that would be able to deal with your fame and all your adoring fans. I had a lot of fun with you and I think you are absolutely amazing. I really do like you but I just can’t see this working. You know?”

Harry shook his head and tried to stay calm. He had to think. He had to make this work. And he needed to not freak out about the fact that she was going on a date. He hated to think of her with anyone else. And yes, he did kiss a woman, but it wasn’t the same thing! Not to him anyway.

“I think you’re wrong. I think it can work. Let me prove it to you. I’ll come see you. Cancel your date next weekend and let me take you out instead.”

Y/n blinked her eyes, taken aback. She was truly shocked that he wanted to see her again and that he wanted to make it work but still…

“Harry…” she sighed, “you can’t expect me to cancel my date. That’s really not fair to me.”

He knew she was right, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m overstepping. I just thought we really connected. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

Pulling her lips into her mouth she sat her glass of wine down. She was looking forward to seeing him again too, until she learned about the kiss. Even if they weren’t serious and even if the kiss meant nothing to him it meant something to her, “Please don’t make this hard. I really did like you, Harry. But it’s obviously not going to work. And that’s okay.”

“No. It’s not okay. I’m coming to see you. You don’t have to cancel your date. I’m not going to boss you around, but I’ll be flying to Chicago on Friday morning. I’m going to prove to you that we have something good here, Y/n. And if you still don’t see that after next weekend then I’ll back off.”

She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t beside herself with the idea that he wanted to put in so much effort to see her. And she certainly couldn’t stop him from going to Chicago and she wouldn’t. But she did feel like it was unlikely he’d actually show up.

“I mean… Jesus, Harry.” She shook her head and grinned, her heart pounding, “You’re crazy. I don’t understand why you want to do this. We had a night together-“

“It was more than just a night. Y/n, come on… you know as well as I do that it was more than just that. All the things we talked about on the phone all those nights. Did that mean nothing? I shared so many personal things with you and I know so many things about you too. But I want to know everything. All of you. I might be crazy but I can’t just give up.”

“We’ll see. And I can’t stop you from flying out here but I’m not going to make you any promises either.”

Harry was determined. More than ever. He knew it was special with Y/n. He knew she knew it too. The night he had her in his hotel room was maybe the hottest sex he’d ever had. And of course, hot sex doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re soul mates but the way they connected and were vulnerable with one another was not like anything he’d ever had. Then all their subsequent conversations and things they’d revealed about themselves? No. He wasn’t done and she wasn’t either. He felt it deep down that she wanted him to prove to her that he was serious.

Kissing that woman had been a mistake. And now he was going to prove to her that he was serious. That they could work.

.           .           .

She didn’t know why she told him where she was going to be on her date. She didn’t need to tell him. He could wait to see her until after. She told him as much at first when he called her the moment he landed.

“Where will you be with your date?” He spoke saying the word date like a dirty word.

“Harry… why do you need that information?”

“Because I’m just curious. Maybe I’m looking for restaurant suggestions.”

“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes to herself, “If I tell you, you better not show up and ruin everything. I kind of like this guy, Harry.”

Harry’s heart fell into his stomach and the smirk on his face faded at that. She liked the guy? She was supposed to only like him.

“I won’t ruin anything. I promise.” He couldn’t actually make that promise. He wouldn’t be held accountable for the methods he used to convince her she was his. That she wanted to be with him only.

.           .           .

The steak house was a typical small-town restaurant that looked cutesy and had a few things on the outside of the building to let you know it was a restaurant but still came off as more of something that looked like a house.

The inside wasn’t much different. The entry into the restaurant started at the bar. Round high-top tables and tall stools scattered along the middle with dining tables with chairs of normal height lined the wall to the right. The bar with various bottles of neatly arranged, half-empty bottles of liquor along the left. Old wood floors, crown molding, high ceilings, an old dusty scent mixed with the smell of stale spilled beer (that smell just doesn’t come out after years of clumsy customers insisting on spilling their ales every night for the past 35 years), food cooking, and meat searing. Beyond the bar was the main dining room with more tables placed around the space and large windows that looked out onto a sizeable terrace with more tables under a large awning.

Harry let his gaze move around the room and walking past the bar he peeked into the main dining room to see if he could spot the woman of his dreams.

“Harry Styles!” A young lady shrieked and as he turned back he saw two other women walking toward him. He knew the look. They were starstruck and hoping for a chance to speak to him and get a photo.

Reluctantly he obliged. Signed a napkin, took a few pictures, and shook their hands with a smile on his face. It tended to be better to just be nice and give them something quickly instead of declining. Sometimes declining or saying he couldn’t resulted in more issues than it was worth.

Not spotting Y/n anywhere either inside or outside he asked the young man stood at the front if there was a reservation under Y/n’s name. He expected that her date would have put it under his name but on the off chance-

“Yes sir. Uh, that reservation for 2 people isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Are you the other party on the reservation?”

Harry grinned and nodded, “Why yes. I am.”

He followed behind the kid to a spot outside on the terrace and ordered a bottle of red wine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing but figured that once Y/n arrived with her date they could finish it off. He knew that what he was doing was taking it a little too far (maybe a lot too far) but he wanted to properly greet her and get a good look at this date. He’d get up and let them take their seats and then he’d pay the bill of course as an apology for the inconvenience.

Before he’d finished his glass of wine his sight landed on the entry to the terrace where Y/n, a tall man with dark hair (presumably her date), and the young host who seated Harry were walking toward him. There she was. She’d really dressed up too. The low plunge of her dress and the way it hit her hips were mouthwatering. He stood up quickly as he continued to watch her in awe. Her pretty face was set in an unamused frown, “What are you doing Harry?”

Shrugging his shoulders he looked to the guy next to her. He was Harry’s height. Taller even. Annoyingly good-looking in an older, sophisticated yet unbothered kind of way, “I’m Harry,” he jutted his hand out to shake.

The date looked at Y/n and then back to Harry with his hand taking Harry’s in a firm shake, “Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Styles… But why are you sitting at our table?” He asked with a laugh. So she hadn’t told her date about him. Pity.

“Oh, I was just having a sit, drinking a little wine. But I’ll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure my lovely friend here made it safely. Oh! And please! Enjoy the rest of the wine. And I’ve already told them that the tab is on me. So get whatever you like. Go wild.”

The look of anger on Y/n’s face should have deterred Harry from speaking further, but he couldn’t help himself, “And you look… wow. Incredible. You’re stunning, Y/n,” he looked over her frame and then back to her face, “I’ll call you later,” he winked as he turned and sauntered away just as casually as he had mentioned he was paying their bill. As if it were all just a normal occurrence.

Y/n watched the handsome pop star walk away before turning to Dante, “Sorry about that. He was just trying to be funny. Just a friend,” she reassured.

Though, Dante didn’t seem wary of him at all. He was clueless as to what had just happened, “You know Harry Styles?!”

Sitting down and pushing Harry’s nearly empty glass of cabernet to the edge of the table she nodded, “Yeah. Met him a couple of months ago when he was in Chicago for a concert, and I was there for an art show. Just luck.”

She left out the part where he had her in his posh hotel suite one evening and they spent the whole night fucking and talking and laughing. Connecting. And then again in the morning until she had to leave.

Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about Harry’s little stunt. He seemed like such a genuinely sweet guy that what had just happened felt a little out of character. Though she got some glimpses of his pushy, dominant side in bed, she hadn’t seen any of that persona transfer outside of the bedroom. Not when he first introduced himself, and not in any of their conversations on the phone… But she guessed perhaps there was a part of him that would come out in this way. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it all deep down.

But still. The nerve of him to sit at the table she and her date would be sharing and drink wine while he waited for them. To look at her the way he had, his eyes blatantly following her shape down to her hips and back up again with that grin… The compliment. And then to have their bill paid for? It was a power move. He was trying to assert dominance over Dante in some way. Even though Dante was annoyingly clueless somehow. She thought for sure he’d be livid about it but he wasn’t.

Dante was a little too nice she decided.

And it’s not like Y/n thought her date should be upset. She didn’t want two men fighting over her or anything. But the part of her that kind of liked what Harry had done, liked that he was trying to stake a claim or send a message- wanted to see what Dante had in him. Wanted maybe just a tiny bit to see him jealous or even insist on paying despite the fact that Harry said he would. Dante didn’t seem threatened at all. She shook her head of those thoughts. How silly for Y/n to even think that he should feel that way. Of course not!

And she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked in his suit and his thick dark hair with soft curls as she and her date neared the table he was casually sitting at. The handsome smug look on his face as he watched them. And she tried to refocus and listen as Dante was talking about his recent gallery show but she was now stuck thinking about the night she and the famous man shared together. That was probably part of what he intended as well, showing up like he did. To set the tone for the entire date. He knew what he was doing. And it had worked.

“Excuse me. I need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She took a deep breath as she walked into the restaurant and followed the hanging wooden signs that pointed toward the little hallway where the two bathrooms were. A single toilet room each for women and men.

Flicking the light on and clicking the lock she leaned into the door and closed her eyes. She had to give herself a pep talk.

“You’re here with a perfectly nice and handsome man. Same interests, a level head, funny, humble…” and Dante was all those things. But something was missing. Something was holding her back from truly enjoying his company. And she knew just what it was. It was because he wasn’t Harry. And even if Harry hadn’t made his surprise appearance to discombobulate her completely, interrupting her date, she would have still felt the same.

Just as she pushed herself off the door there was a knock, “Sorry! Be right out!”

Y/n washed her hands and dried them before opening the door. But in a shocking split-second, she was met with the handsome smile of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked into the bathroom, causing her to step herself backward. Harry closed the door and clicked the lock.

“Harry! What are you doing?!”

Harry smirked and leaned his back into the door, “How’s the date going?”

Crossing her arms over her chest she tried to feign annoyance but she was working hard to hide her own grin, “It’s fine. I like Dante. Why are you still here?”

“I figured I’d see if you were free after. I brought some things with me that I think you might enjoy.”

She paused. He brought some things? What did that mean?

“I can’t believe I told you where my date was,” she shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sure you did it because you hoped for this very outcome.”

“Oh come on, Harry. I actually didn’t think you’d even come here this weekend, to be honest.”

Harry stitched his brows together and pushed himself off the door, taking two long-legged strides toward her, and brought his hands up to her face, “Well I am here. And I want you, Y/n. I don’t care that you’re on a fucking date. That should be me sitting out there getting to take you out,” he jabbed a finger in the air toward the door before returning his palm to her cheek.

Her blood pumped quickly through her veins and her head felt fluttery and light as she watched his mouth and then looked at his eyes as he spoke. His hair was fluffy and soft and his hands on her face felt gentle but she knew what they could do. All the very opposite things of gentle that had awakened some kind of indulgent new requirement. She wanted to put up a good fight. Make him work harder. Make him beg a little even. He’d kissed another woman! For god’s sake, she should make him grovel. But he was there. With her. Looking at her like he did that last morning they were together when they were making plans to keep contact until they could see one another again.

She didn’t know how to respond. If she were responding candidly, she’d tell him that yeah, it should be him out there treating her to dinner and not Dante. That she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind and last night, even though she had this date lined up, it was Harry’s image that she orgasmed to when she masturbated. In fact, it had only been Harry she got off to since she’d had that night with him nearly two months ago.

Harry tilted his head and spoke softly, “Please, Y/n. Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg? Or,” a small devious smirk quirked up on his lips as he licked them and ducked in to speak into her ear, his body pressed into hers, “maybe you want this. You like the chase, don’t you? Is that what you want? Trying to play hardball with me, sweet girl?”

She was a goner the moment his lips brushed over the shell of her ear and he brought his hands down from her face to her hips and pulled her in close. A small warm peck to her lobe, “What is it that you want me to do? I’ll do it.”

Y/n drew her hands up his back to his broad shoulders and moaned as she stretched her neck for him, “You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the middle of a date.”

And despite her words, Harry seemed to figure out what it was she needed and he dragged his mouth down to her jaw and then attached his lips to her neck and lightly peppered kisses and warm licks down the sensitive skin until he lowered enough that he’d made it to her clavicle, drawing a needy little gasp from her lips.

He backed away to look down at her and she had her lips parted and eyes closed, which made him smile.

She was his.

“And this dress,” he smoothed his hands down from her hips to the bottom hem of the material that landed just above her knee. He pulled the fabric upward, his warm fingers sliding up and under the stretchy cloth until he met her inner thighs, squeezed together, “Why did you do this? Wearing this for him? Baby this dress should only be for me.”

Her breaths deepened and her body grew hot with his hands on her. This was such a bad idea but she didn’t have it in her to stop him. She wanted him. When she opened her eyes and looked at Harry she licked her lips before speaking, “I hoped you’d see it. But I didn’t really think you’d come.”

Harry’s palms splayed against her thighs and continued to push the material up as he smiled at her with a cocky grin, “Wanted me to see it. So you wanted me to be jealous. To see you wearing this slutty thing on a date with another man while I watched. Suppose I deserve that. But you know you’re leaving here with me. Yeah? That’s what you wanted. Gonna show you what you deserve for teasing like this.”

Y/n let out a small whimper when he pushed her legs apart and kept his eyes on hers. His light green eyes were slowly disappearing under his dark pupils. His lids were droopy, and his lips parted as he finally moved his face to hers and nudged at her nose with his before putting her out of her misery and kissing her in a hot, desperate embrace.

She tried to resist but she’d already been a goner and the way he kissed her melted her senses and stamped out her resolve.

She was his.

Harry’s hands continued their path upward and she knew what he was doing, as far gone and mushy as her brain was, she understood his intentions. So she parted her thighs more for his access and Harry panted against her lips, “You want me to touch? Need a little something before you go back out there on your date?”

She nodded after faltering for a second. Her date… She wasn’t sure she could face him after this. She only knew she wanted Harry.

He pushed his fingers over her silky panties and grinned as he continued kissing her, her back pressed into the wall, “Fuck, baby girl. You need Daddy don’t you?”

She groaned and popped her eyes open, nodding the tiniest bit as she watched him use his hand on her, rubbing over her cloth-covered clit. Harry hissed and looked at her with sultry eyes, “Soaked for me, baby. You don’t want to go back out there to him. You need to be taken care of. Can you wait til we get back to your place or do you need it now?”

Harry was serious. He was going to leave with Y/n. Dante would be fine. His check was covered after all.

Y/n let out a shaky breath. Here or at hers? Her place was half an hour away and she was already vibrating with desire. Harry’s words and soft touches and his presence somehow pulled from her a need that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. One that she was certain Dante couldn’t affect.  

“This is crazy,” she breathed out.

Harry pushed his mouth to hers and moved his fingers down to the drenched crotch of her panties pushing them to the side and he keened at the feel of how slick she was under the pads of his fingers.

“Remember how good it was, Y/n? How you moaned and came over and over again? The way you took me when I fucked you.”

Harry was hard as rock in his trousers. This woman was doing things to him. He hadn’t been so determined about anyone in a very long time.

“Yes,” she whispered when he stroked up and down through her labia and then pressed into the hood of her clit.

“And how good we are together. We work, Y/n. This works. I know you know it.”

He plunged two fingers inside as he kissed her mouth. She opened her legs further for him and rocked her hips forward into his hand.

Y/n realized suddenly where they were and what they were doing when a knock sounded on the door, “Let’s go. I need to tell Dante that I’m leaving first.”

Harry was directed to stay outside at the front of the restaurant while Y/n went to the terrace and broke the news to Dante. She felt awful. She really did. Dante was nice. He was attractive. But he wasn’t her type in the end and she was slick between her thighs as she sat down and winced at the feel. The empty ache. She was flushed and her panties were chilled against her skin where it was wet, a result of just having been fingered in the bathroom. But her body was guiding her. She was aching and wanted Harry in her bedroom. Wanted Harry inside of her again.

It was probably a mistake. She’d probably regret this but she only knew one thing. And that was that Dante would never have a chance. Not when she was fantasizing about Harry on a date with him. That wasn’t fair to him, to string him along. So she justified that it was better this way.

.           .           .

Y/n had fully expected that Harry would have a driver or something. But to her surprise, he rented a car. A really nice car. A Mercedes Benz wagon.

She did kind of wish he had a driver, though, so they could sit in the back and that there was one of those partitions that separated them from view. But as it was, she was sitting in the passenger side as Harry drove her to her house.

It was kind of wild to her that Harry Styles was driving her to her house and that once there, in her small residential bungalow, they’d probably wind up having sex. Certainly, they’d wind up having sex.

“I’m sorry I did it this way,” Harry paused with a smirk on his face, “but not that sorry. Worked out in my favor.”

Y/n breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “Yeah, I guess you got your way. I imagine you’re used to that.”

“Heey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“It just means you’re probably not used to not getting exactly what you want.”

Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on the road in silence. He was just happy it had worked. He wasn’t sure it would. And yes, he was used to getting what he wanted but he didn’t expect to get everything he wanted. Not all the time anyway.

“My place is pretty small. Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A small backyard. So don’t judge, okay?” She was mostly teasing, feeling quite nervous about what was soon to happen. The state of her home was actually the last thing on her mind.

“Don’t be nervous, love. We’re going to have a great time together.”

Y/n gulped the saliva in her throat and looked ahead toward the road. She knew they’d have a great time together if their last time together was any indicator. In fact, she imagined it might be even better. He was visiting for three days and she had nothing to do other than finish the canvas she’d been working on for the past week. So they’d have a lot of time. To explore and to play. To talk.

She recalled a conversation they had one night over the phone when Harry brought up her pretty, plump bottom, his words still making her blush having never enjoyed anyone calling her plump in any way. But somehow, when Harry said it, it felt sexy. He made her feel sexy. Her curves and her extra bits, her tummy and ass and arms and thighs… they only spent the one night together but he made her feel as if all of her was beautiful.

“Such a pretty, plump bottom like yours… and you’ve never had anal sex before, or anything? My finger was the first to poke inside?” He spoke his words with a smile.

She was already lying down in bed and gently rubbing herself to the sound of his voice and he’d been heavily flirting and suggesting what they’d do together the next time they saw one another.

“No. Have never done anything back there,” she laughed breathily.

“We can change that. I can start by licking your pussy and your ass until you’re so wet and creamy that I can just slip my finger inside your little hole and get you ready for more.”

She moaned lightly at the idea.

He continued, “And once you’re shaking and begging to come I’ll slowly fill you up with my cock so you can finally experience what it’s like.”

Y/n laughed and paused her fingers, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Harry groaned and panted (he was also touching himself), “Oh I would be in heaven to have you any way you wanted. But to be able to be your first experience with that would be amazing. But the question is, Y/n, would you like that?”

She squirmed in the soft black leather seats just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to go that route or not but she figured if he got her loosened up and drippy she probably would very much want that. She felt like he’d make it good. She knew he’d make it good.

Harry noticed the way she shifted and wondered if she was still on edge. He imagined her panties were a mess after what happened in the bathroom. He would have loved to have fucked her then and there but she asked to leave. And he could wait a little longer, though his cock was aching and pushing against the front of his trousers painfully.

Y/n was trying not to eye his crotch. He clearly had an erection. Still. And she knew he was nice and thick and long. Just remembering the way he looked had her thighs clenching together. Yes, she was still very wet in her panties, and knowing that soon he’d be using that thing on her gave her an idea.

She reached her hand over and put her palm on his upper thigh over his pants and Harry quickly glanced down before putting his eyes back on the road. He swallowed thickly. He liked where this was going.

“Gonna help me out a little?”

Y/n smirked and looked up at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt, “Do you want me to?”

Harry scoffed and shot his eyes at her quickly, “Is that a serious question?”

Biting her lip she positioned herself to lean over the leather console and began to undo the leather belt he had on. Harry adjusted his seating and pressed the seat back button to lean back a little to give her more room as she unbuttoned his pants. He parted his lips and let out a labored breath when he felt her palm over him.

He was so warm under her hand, even with the material of his pants covering him. She continued working on opening his pants up when the seatbelt warning dinged.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes but she continued, not worried at all about the sound. She wanted to pull him out and play with him a little bit.

The road to her house from the restaurant was mostly along a small highway with no stoplights and very little traffic. Which she liked so she could have him out in her hand and no one would pull up next to them and catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Not to mention it was Harry Styles in the car, that would surely get some attention.

When she finally dragged his underwear down enough that she could grasp around him he moaned softly. She loved how he felt in her hand, the way he looked. She pulled from the base of his shaft upward, rolling his foreskin over his frenulum and back down. He was hard and his tip was pink and pretty like his lips.

The ding of the seatbelt warning chimed again as she leaned further over and moved her lips to right above his erect cock. Harry moved his arm away to give her space, before putting his hand on the back of her head. Her hair fell over the exposed skin at the base of his cock before he felt her lick gently over his slit and stroked him slowly as Harry drove down the road toward her home.

It was difficult to put him into her mouth with the console in between them but she had been able to put his tip in past her lips and lick all around him, lapping at his precome as she continued moving her hand in gentle strokes at his shaft.

Harry was panting shallowly and his stomach muscles were contracting. It felt so good to have her mouth and her hand on him. He wished he could look down to see her sucking him off but he had to keep an eye on the road, and with her seatbelt undone (thanks to the reminder every two minutes from the warning chime) he didn’t want to chance anything.

Y/n moaned around his slit and Harry choked out his words, “Fuck, baby. We’re almost there. Gonna give it to you so good when we get to your place.”

And she knew he would too. She wasn’t very experienced. She’d slept with two men before she got married but of all the men who’d fucked her, Harry was far and away the best at it.

Harry pulled into her small driveway, directly behind her Toyota Camry. Tucking himself back into his pants as she adjusted her dress before getting out of his car and plucking her keys from her purse.

“Did he pick you up here at your house?” He pointed toward her car in the driveway. He deduced that if her vehicle was there the date must have come to her home to pick her up.

Y/n paused and it took her a moment to understand what he meant but the realization dawned on her, “Yes. He did.”

Harry nodded, “So he knows where you live? Did you invite him in?”

Sighing she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he really doing this now? “Yes. He came in, stood in the doorway, and looked around while I grabbed my purse. That was it.”

Harry was standing over her with a small frown, “Were you planning on sleeping with him? After the dinner?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What is this, Harry?” She pulled her arms upward before dropping them at her sides in frustration, the keys to her house jangling as she did so.

Putting his hands on her upper arms he slowly rubbed upward, “This is just me wondering what you were up to is all. It’s a good thing I got there in time to stop anything from happening.”

A scoff fell from her lips as she looked up at him, stunned, “No. This is you being jealous.”

Harry shook his head with a cocky grin and brought his left hand up to her neck and pulled her into his chest, “I’d be jealous if you left with him. But he’s nowhere to be seen now is he?”

She felt the small squeeze on her neck as he pushed her bottom gently to the front of his car, his hips connected to hers so she could feel him, “S’just you and me here, though. Isn’t it? You’re wet for me. Not for him,” his soft, warm mouth was suddenly pasted over her jaw and she gasped. It was hard for her head to fight its way out of the labyrinth of mush that he seemed to be so good at leading her into. But he knew that. He loved the way she responded to him.

Harry chuckled, his laugh vibrating off her neck as he tenderly kissed the edge of her parted lips before backing away and grasping her hand to pull her to her front door, “Let’s get inside then. Can’t fuck you out here on the hood of the car for all to see can I?”

Everything was rushed and desperate in her brain. She was shaky putting her key into her door to unlock with Harry right behind her, his hands at her hips, his lips on her neck.

The moment the door was closed and locked Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and frantic. They were both on edge and very much in need of release. Together. Even though he acted as if he had it totally together and he was in charge, he was feeling desperate too with the way his tip was leaky and his cock throbbed in his pants.

“It’s this way,” she panted breathlessly as she pulled his hand to bring him toward her bedroom.

But Harry paused when he saw a large, framed photo hung on the wall. It was of Y/n with a man. Kissing a man. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress and the man was in a tuxedo with the backdrop of a lovely garden and flowers all around.  

“Is… this you?”

Y/n was halted when she whipped her head to look at what he’d seen. She realized instantly what he meant.

“Um. Yes.”

“Are you… married?”

Y/n sighed and let go of Harry’s hand.

Talk about a mood killer.

Chapter 3

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[ghostofthemost141]

Pretty

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,488

Themes: Angst, Self Loathing

About: After the end of the zombie apocalypse, the world may be back to normal, but your life is at a standstill as Task Force 141 works to try and find a reverse cure for your boyfriend Ghost.

Notes: This was inspired by a little drabble someone wrote here on Tumblr and when I went to try and find it, I couldn't find it so if someone finds it please let me know so I can give credit to them since this short is based off of that post. I also decided not to use (Y/N) for this one and instead everyone calls you Dolly, which means a gift of God that Simon gave you. Hope you enjoy!

How long does this have to go on for? I feel as if this is torture to keep him in here. I just want to reach in there and hold his hand, but it wouldn’t do me any good. It would hurt more, much, more. 

“‘Ou in here, Dolly?” A thick, accented voice came through, calling me by my nickname. 

“Hm.” I respond back, not taking my eyes off of him. 

It was Johnny, coming to check on me for the millionth time. It’s going to be the same old, same old so I don’t know why he even bothers at this point. Johnny stopped next to me, him standing and me sitting on the ground, as he stared into the incubator containment thing that was across the room. Every once in a while, he will make a groaning or growling noise at me, but that was it. 

“Dinner is ready. Price sent me to fetch ya.” Johnny told me. 

“Just do it without me.” I mumbled, not moving my eye contact. 

Johnny sighed in slight annoyance, but I ignored it. 

“You gotta come eat with us, Dolly. He wouldn’t want you to do that to yourself.” 

I tightly shut my eyes together, hearing what he used to sound like in my head, as if he was scolding me. But that voice would never come, for his husky, deep voice was replaced by deep gutter growls that don’t mean nothing but the fact that I am his next meal. 

You need to eat, love. S’not good for you to not eat.

I could almost hear him saying it, but it was just my mind playing tricks on me. 

“I just want to be alone, McTavish.” I strongly said. 

Johnny sighed, but remained where he was at. I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t have the strength nor energy to do it. 

“We are still lookin’ and tryin’, you know that righ’?” 

I nodded in response, knowing what he was going to say. He says it every time he catches me in here. 

“I’ll save ya a plate.” 

Johnny finally turned and exited the room. It’s not that I didn’t mind the company, it’s just that I am tired of hearing the same old shit. 

“We are still lookin’ and tryin’, you know that righ’?” 

“It’s hard to find a cure, kid.” 

“We are doing our best.” 

“He will be cured soon.” 

Soon. Soon. I feel like they are just lying to me at this point. I know they are just trying to keep my spirits afloat, but how can you when the person you love the most is kept in solitude in order to prevent him from turning you? His eyes were a cloudy white instead of his normal bright, blue azure eyes. They’ve managed to keep his organs and body alive so when we do, or if we find a cure his body will be normal, as if he was never turned in the first place. It wasn’t the fact that he turned that scared me the most, it was the fact that as soon as Simon realized he was bitten, he tried to break his own jaw to prevent him from hurting us. In retrospect, he was doing it to protect us, but he only stopped when I was basically wrestling him to not do it, in case we found a cure. That was the last time his beautiful, piercing eyes looked into mine with so much emotion. Simon is stubborn and always wants to do things his way, but for once in his life, he listened to me. It wasn’t long after that he turned. I watched him turn and before he did, Simon made me promise that if he tried to hurt me, that I would stop him, by any means necessary. Ironically enough, and kind of funny, but Simon as a zombie is nothing compared to how slick and quick he is in real life. The rest of the task force was able to apprehend him before he could even come close to me and stick him in the incubator, where he has been staying in for the past month. I miss him so much. I never thought I would miss our miserable times out in the field or us sitting outside in the miserable freezing cold because it was the only time we could get some alone time together or even us sparring together. I just want Simon back. A deep grumble in my stomach brought me back to reality. Johnny is right. For once he is right. I stretched my arms and legs out, stood up on my feet, and began to walk out of the room. 

“Rrrrrrr..” 

A deep growl came from the incubator. I turned to find Simon leaning onto the glass, those clouded eyes piercing through my soul. 

“I’ll be back, Simon, I promise.” 

A deep hiss came from his throat, his arm reaching out as if he was trying to reach for me. I can’t watch this, it hurts me so much. I immediately walked out of the room, and shut the door behind me, hearing his growls grow louder. I don’t know if that is his way of trying to communicate with us or he is truly… I shook my thoughts away and made my way to the dining hall. 

~ 

I almost envy the guys. They can just pretend that everything is normal and there’s nothing going on, meanwhile my partner, the love of my life, is stuck in his own hell prison. They always try to uplift my spirits and sometimes it works, but on days like today, I’d rather be left alone than try and pretend that everything is okay. As soon as I was done eating, I just went into my room to go to sleep. I didn’t have the heart to go back into the incubator room. Whether or not he was still conscious in his mind, it still hurt me to see him like that. I like to think he is, but that honestly makes me feel worse knowing he is trapped in his own mind and body, while we aren’t even close to finding a cure. 

“Oh Si..” I grumbled, trying to contain my tears, “I’m so sorry.” 

The tears escaped my eyes, running rapidly down my face, as the memories of him and I came flooding back, from when he was human, before this apocalypse happened. I came to the task force two years ago and it is kind of embarrassing to say but I was head over heels for Simon as soon as I saw him. The more missions we did together, the harder I fell for him. Maybe it was his attitude, or the mask, or his accent, but I was falling hard. It wasn’t until one night were the entire task force had been drinking more than they should and Simon ended up following me back to my room that night. It was as if we had been together for years prior to that, we just clicked so much. We started dating in secret and it wasn’t until right before the apocalypse happened, that we were busted by Price. Of course he wasn’t happy about it, but by the time everything went down, he didn’t care at that point. Simon was protecting me when he got bit and it was my own damn fault. I wasn’t paying attention and Simon took the bite for me. He shouldn’t have. I should be dead right now and he should be alive. Not me, no, not me. I deserve it after all because Simon is the reason why he is trapped in his own body. We are never going to find a cure. And it is all because of-

*KnockKnock*

“Hey Doll?” 

Price. 

“Come in..” I mumbled. 

The door swung open, emitting the hallway light into my pitch black room. 

“Oh, blimey. You’re gonna ruin your eyesight in ‘ere.” Price commented. 

I just shrugged my shoulders in response. 

“Just came to check in on ya. I managed to get a hold of a base that's a bit of a drive, but it could be our chance.” 

“Are you for real this time?” I ask urgently. 

“As real as shiet, Dolly.” Price confirmed, earning a chuckle out of me. 

I sighed, with some relief in mind. 

“We will get ‘im back. I promised yous that a long time ago and I damn well intend to keep that promise. You hear?” 

“I hear ya, Captain.” I said. 

“Alright, goodnight, Dolly.” 

“Goodnight.” I softly said as Price shut my door, and walked off. 

There is some good in this life. I will soon have my Simon back and we will be back in each other's arms, cuddling, fucking, drinking tea, watching shitty rom-com movies, and much more. He will be back. He will be..

~

…

…

…

..rrrrr

What? What the fuck was that? 

.rrrrrrrr.

I wanted to move but for some reason that noise paralyzed me into being still. It sounded familiar and that is what scared me the most. 

Rrrrrrrrrrr. 

It was louder and closer this time. Please don’t tell me-

Rahhhhhhhhh

I jolted out of bed, grabbing the hidden knife I have in my mattress and cornered it into my room. 

Rah..rah..

What the hell was this? Or who the hell was it? Keeping my eye on what it was, I slowly tip-toed backwards to my room light and flicked it on, my heart dropping. 

“What?” 

“How?” 

I mumbled out loud, seeing Simon standing there, staring at me with those hideous clouded eyes. 

“How did you get out?” I tearfully pleaded, knowing he can’t respond. 

Simon just stared, slowly stepping towards me, groaning in the process. I kept my knife in front of me, just in case. 

“Listen to me love. If I try to bite you, you end me no matter what? Do ‘ou understand?” 

Simon’s words echoed in my head, remembering what he told me. I didn’t want to do this, no, please don’t make me do this. 

“S-Stay away, please.” I croaked. 

Simon kept sauntering towards me, slowly and surely, his growls and moans getting louder the closer he got to me. Everytime he stepped forward, I stepped back. I needed to obey his words, but I couldn't. I can’t do it. 

“Simon. Please.” 

“Dahhhhh….” 

I could feel my whole body start to shake as I realized Simon pinned me into a corner. The closer he got, the more my heart raced. This is it. This was it. I am going to die. But I’d rather die than kill the love of my life. 

“Si..” 

I sunk down, dropped the knife, and held my face as he got up as close as he humanely could. 

“D-Don’t..p-please.” 

I sobbed, holding myself. 

“Doll..” 

What? Did he just.. No he didn’t, it’s all in my head. I am dead now, I just haven’t felt the pain yet of his teeth sinking into my-

“Dolllllyyyyy…” 

That time I heard it. That was real. Getting some kind of courage, I stopped hiding my face and looked up at him. Simon was leaning down, looking at me, but his face was different. The same clouded eyes were there, but it was as if he was marveling at me. 

“Simon?” 

“Dooolllllyyyyyy…” 

Dolly. He was calling me Dolly. My nickname he had given me when we first started seeing each other. I never knew Simon Riley would be expected to give someone a nickname but he did. His voice was deep and guttural, but I could hear his accent peeking out. 

“Simon, are you there?” I asked, standing up on my feet. 

“Rrrrrr….preeetttyyyy Dolllllyyyyy.” 

“Oh Si..” I leaned in, holding his cheeks. 

He still had most of his gear on, except he had his balenciaga mask on instead of his skull mask. I wanted to take it off so bad to really see his beautiful face, but it scared me to do so. Even though he was consciously still there, there was no telling what he would do out of his control. Tears ran rapid down my face, knowing that this confirmed my worst fear, that he was trapped within his own mind. 

“Dolllyyyyyyy..cryyyinnngggggg…” Simon growled out. 

I quickly wiped away my tears to not worry him. 

“No, no I am fine, Simon, I promise.” I reassured him. 

*BANG* 

“GET HIM!!” 

“RAAHHHHHHHHH” 

“NO DON’T-” 

In two seconds flat, Price and them busted in, angered Simon, and subdued him. The growls that came from Simon were so animalistic, as if he was no longer Simon. 

“He could’ve bit you!!” Soap shouted at me. 

“No, he recognized me! He called me Dolly!” I swore as Price, Gaz, and Soap were struggling to keep Simon contained. 

“This’ll do.” Price mumbled as he took out a serum that would knock his ass out. 

Simon saw it and cried out in animalistic rage, but the three of them managed to keep him on the ground. 

“Wait, wait, please!!” I screamed. 

The three men turned to me, waiting for what I was going to do next, but kept their arms and body weight on top of Simon. I got on my knees and approached Simon, who was thrashing around and growling at the three of them. 

“Si.” I call him, his cloudy eyes immediately locking with me. 

“We need to travel to get a cure, but we are almost there. I promise you.” I croaked, feeling the same tears and sadness returning. 

“Rr..rrr. Dolllyyyyy.” 

“Yes, I am Dolly. Your Dolly, Simon.” I comforted him, holding his cheek and running my thumb over the free skin that was on his face. 

The tears fell down my face, as Simon relaxed into my touch. 

“Pretttyyyyy..Dolllllyyyyyy.” 

Before I could even react, Price injected the serum into Simon, who didn’t even react and only kept his focus on me. 

“Dolll…yyyyy.” 

Simon’s cloudy eyes then shut and remained still. I could feel the three men look at me. 

“Fuck..” Gaz mumbled as he, Soap, and Price got off of the almost lifeless Simon. 

I had cried out all of the tears that were left in me. 

“Sweetie..” Price approached me. 

I raised my head up and looked at him, in which he had a very genuine smile on his face. 

“We gotta pack up now so we can head up ‘Orth and save your hubby.” Price told me. 

I chuckled hearing him call Simon my hubby, despite us not being married. 

“Yes, Captain.” I said, getting my composure together. 

Price grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. I stared at the still Simon, who was breathing normally as if he was not what he was right now. But the thought of it being so close to him being back to normal, makes me so happy. We are nearly there, Simon, we are nearly there. 

“Alright, let’s load up gang.” 

END