#she helps me through hard days and I hope she knows that

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨All Dolled Up✨

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: After months of hard work, Lucifer finally gifted you a welcome present after joining the hotel! In return, you decide to make something of your own just for him! Your gift, however, turns out to be even more special than you intended...

This is a surprise story for my friend @rosen-und-mondlicht who gave me this very creative and fun idea for a story! Love you boo <3

Huge thanks to @canihaveacandycane and @citrusbatsandhoneybees for the help on this one!

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, p in v

Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're so happy to have you stay with us! We hope your time here is an enjoyable one!

-Hotel Staff

P.S. Hey there! I'm sorry this took so long to give you, I just had to make it perfect! I hope you like it!

-Lucifer

It was custom for every new resident to receive a welcome letter. Even though you've already been at the hotel for 6 months now, it was still appreciated. You walked into your room and found your very late letter sitting next to a small white box complete with a red bow resting at the foot of your bed. The gift was unexpected; however, you hadn't heard of anyone else receiving one. Once you read the card, you figured you knew the reason for its delay. Lucifer, always the perfectionist, must have stalled the whole operation.

You hadn't expected to become so close to the King of Hell himself. You were weary of him at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Everyone knew about the fallen angel. But after a while, you started to warm up to him. It was easy to see that he was nothing like you imagined or had been told about while you were alive. He was a kind soul, a dreamer who loved his daughter dearly, and someone who was very, very lonely. You learned about his previous wife Lilith and how she had left several years ago never and hadn't been heard from since. You could tell this deeply affected Lucifer even though he did his best to hide it through his jovial persona. You two grew pretty close, he found you incredibly easy to talk to, as if he had known you his whole life. You enjoyed your time together and you found joy in listening to whatever he chose to ramble on about that day be it his latest project or reminiscing about his daughter Charlie when she was younger. You'd never admit it, but you had developed somewhat of a crush on the king. But who were you to get involved with the ruler of Hell? It wasn't your place as a mere sinner and you dared not ruin the friendship you had built with him, odd as it may be.

Curiously, you picked up the box and casually began to unwrap it. you lifted the lid to find a cute little rubber duck that resembled you! All the little details down to your hair, your eye color, and somehow it managed to capture your smile in its little orange beak. You loved it, no wonder to took him so long to complete; every detail was perfect. It was such a thoughtful gift, and you felt the burning need to return the favor! Who knows the last time Lucifer had been given a gift. Why couldn't it be from you?

You noticed something else in the box too and lifted it up gently. It was a beautiful white and red feather. You knew it must have been his, but did he mean to give this to you as well? Knowing him, he must have worked frantically to get this gift finished. A few must have fallen off during the packing process; you knew how stressed the man could get. But the feather gave you an idea. You couldn't make rubber ducks like him, that was his specialty. But you did, however, know how to make little felt dolls! You were very crafty during your life and you figured you might as well use the skills you have to do something good.

You spent most of the night sewing and stitching everything together, ignoring the many warning signs your body gave you in order to try and get you to sleep. You were stubborn, however. Once you started a project, it was almost impossible for you stop until it was complete. It was nearly dawn by the time you finally finished the little doll. Well, almost finished! Everything was perfect, from the little snake that wrapped around his little hat to the tiny golden buttons on his jacket. There was only one things left to do! You grabbed the feather that you had found your box and delicately placed it inside of the small slit you had left open on the side of the doll. You thought the feather could represent a heart, something meaningful to give the doll and make it different from anything else.

Finally, you stitched the last gap closed, cutting the strong with your teeth to finally complete your gift. You stared at the doll for a moment to admire your work. And you were happy. But something weird happened. Just then, a small flash of golden light emanated from the doll but disappeared as quickly as it came. You set it down and rubbed your eyes. You looked over the doll again for another minute, but the flash of light never returned. You chalked it up to being a trick of the light. And considering the fact that you were sleep deprived, you wouldn't put it past your brain to start pulling tricks on you. You shrugged it off, taking the doll with you to bed. You drifted off to sleep easily, your eyes growing heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You clutched the doll close to your chest, giving it a small peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Lucifer," you whispered to it before letting your body fall unconscious.

****

You woke up with a start to the sound of your alarm blaring. It was 8:00 a.m. Not nearly enough sleep. You realized you hadn't moved all night; your body must have been too exhausted to toss and turn. You found yourself still holding the doll and smiled to yourself. You were still exhausted, but you knew Charlie would be sad if you missed breakfast, so with all of your remaining strength, you pulled yourself out of bed and begrudgingly began to get ready for the day. You decided you use a small tan paper you had from one of your shopping trips bag to hold the doll, thanking yourself for not just tossing it away like you normally would have.

You made your way to the kitchen knowing Charlie would be preparing breakfast for everyone. But to your surprise, when you entered through the kitchen door, it was not the princess you found at the stove, but her father. You heard him whistling a song you never heard before, a perfect melody. Your heart began to race as you walked a little bit closer to him, the smell of pancakes filling your senses.

"I can hear you, you know," Lucifer called out playfully as he flipped a pancake in the air. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Well, I'm glad," you retorted, now standing beside him. "I didn't really want to be scaring you when you’re working over a hot stove like that."

He gave you a small smirk without looking away from what he was doing. "Oh yeah, that truly would be terrible, wouldn't it?" he laughed. You knew he was more or less invincible, being an angel and all. Still, you didn't want to distract him.

"I thought Charlie was usually the one to prepare breakfast," you commented.

"Oh, she is!" Lucifer smiled. "But I told her I would handle the meals today. My little girl works so hard around here, you know? I thought it would be nice to take something of her plate...so to speak." He chuckled at his own joke as he laid the freshly made stack of pancakes on the neatly assembled row of plates.

"Do you need any help?" you asked, setting down the brown paper bag behind the kitchen island out of his view.

"Sure!" He turned around and pointed to the condiments he had laid out. "Could you hand me the syrup and the whipped cream over there?" You did as he asked and brought him the items. Lucifer began to smother the fluffy cakes in syrup and drawing little ducks with the whipped cream to top them all off. When he was finished, you and him delivered breakfast to the hotel residents. You came back to the kitchen to notice there were two plates of pancakes left.

"Oh, we forgot some," you commented. "Who did we forget?"

Lucifer only smiled. "Those are for us, silly! You have to eat too, don't you?"

In your effort to help, you completely forgot that you hadn't eaten. He handed you your plate and fork and you two stood there eating his delicious creation as you leaned against the countertop.

"These are amazing!" you tried to say with your mouth still half full.

Lucifer swallowed his last bite and gave you a toothy grin. "Why thank you! I'll be honest, I haven't cooked in a long time. I was afraid I had forgot how. But if you like them, then I know I succeeded!"

You set your finished plate down and crossed your arms. Lucifer seemed to be in more high spirits than usual. You liked seeing him like this; just happy. "If you don't mind me saying, Lucifer, your mood seems...different. N-Not in a bad way! Just...more full of energy."

He followed your motion and set his plate down behind him. "You think so?"

"Yeah," you continued. "It's nice to see. I like a happy Lucifer."

He smiled at you and left out a soft sigh. "Can I tell you something?" You tilted your head in confusion but nodded. "This is gonna sound a little weird, maybe a little bit crazy, but just hear me out, okay?"

"Of course! I never think you're crazy," you smiled. His hand found the back of his neck; he looked as though he was nervous about whatever he was about to tell you. Your heart started racing again.

"Last night, when I was sleeping...in the middle of the night, I felt something...I don't know how to say this...constricting me?" You furrowed your brow, not understanding what he was trying to say. "Maybe that's not the right word. Let's say...holding me. That sounds better."

"Holding you?" you questioned, "I'm not sure I get it."

"Okay uhh, let me think..." he placed his hand under his chin. "It almost felt like...cuddling?"

"So...someone was cuddling you last night?" you spoke in a hushed tone. You feared the worst when you heard him say those words. Lucifer noticed your change in demeanor and quickly back peddled.

"No, no, that's the thing! I was alone last night!" he reassured you. "I always sleep alone, ever since..." he shook his head as to move on and forget it. But you knew what he was going to say. "It was the strangest damn thing, in the middle of the night no less! And there was a voice that..."

Your brain refused to acknowledge Lucifer's last few words and were more focused on the fact that he was indeed alone last night. "That...certainly is odd. What could..."

Oh no...

Your eyes went wide with fear, your whole body froze, you couldn't bring yourself to finish your thought.

The doll.

The doll you made for him. You went to bed with it last night. You held it in your arms. You kissed it goodnight!

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

"Is everything alright?" Lucifer snapped you back to reality. "You look paler than me!"

You swallowed hard trying to muster up any sort of response. "Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm totally fine! I just...I realized I promised I would help Angel with something this morning and I completely forgot! So, I'll see you later!"

You didn't give Lucifer a chance to respond as you ran out the door and grabbed the bag you had hidden from view. You didn't let up until you reached your room and slammed the door behind you. You set the bag down carefully onto your bed and gingerly removed the doll from it, using only your nails to hoist it out. You let it lay in your hand as you stared at it with panicked eyes.

"What the hell did I do?!" you asked yourself in a berating tone. "It's just a doll, it shouldn't have - hold on..." A sudden memory came flooding back to you. You called the doll emitting a strange light the night before as soon as you finished sewing the remaining stitches. Last night, you thought it was just the trick of the light; it was late and you were beyond exhausted. But that didn't explain why Lucifer was able to feel you holding him last night. The last thing you did was add "...the feather!"

That must be it! His feather must have caused the connection. Lucifer was an angel after all, a magical being of pure light. Surely anything that was a part of him would carry those same properties. You had to get rid of it! But how? You didn't know the extent of what this doll could feel. Surely stabbing it with a knife would cause him some pain...you think. Given Lucifer was more or less indestructible,  you still didn't really want to test that theory.

So, you stood there with the doll limp in your hand unsure of what to do with it next.

You couldn't bring yourself to destroy it, you put so much work into it and it would kill you to get rid of something that was meant to be an innocent gift. The best option would be to hide it, leave somewhere no one would find it and forget that it even exists. But then, the thought of Lucifer's smile crosses your mind. He was so happy this morning, happier than you've ever seen him. And it was because of you. Not that you would every dream of telling him that. But maybe...maybe it would be alright if you kept it. If you held it close to you at night. Perhaps it wasn't the most moral decision, but hey, you're in Hell, morality is not a common practice here. You brought that doll to your chest and held it tight. "I'm sorry..." you murmured to it, "If I can't tell you how I really feel, maybe this is the next best thing."

For the next several nights, you went to bed with the held tightly. And for the next several days, you couldn't bring yourself to face Lucifer. Anytime you heard him approaching or his voice getting closer, you ran the other direction. But not far enough to completely miss him. While you hid from his view, he had that same jovial expression since the day you made breakfast together. It warned your heart to know that what you were doing had a positive effect on him, even though you couldn't shake the guilt that came with that either. Sometimes he would catch you by surprise and spot you from across the hall. Lucifer would call out to you but you made it a point to get out of there as fast as possible. Strangely enough, he never sought you out after you ran, but you thought that was for the best.

One night before you went to bed, you sat up on your mattress staring at your creation resting in your palms.

"I'm a coward," you told yourself. "I should just tell him the truth. Why am I even doing this? I want him to be happy, but this isn't right. I shouldn't have put the feather in there, I should have just thrown this in my closet and not given it a second thought. But no! Now I'm avoiding him like a frightened cat because I don't have the guts to tell him..." You sighed. "One more night. Just one more. And then I'm done. I'll never think about this again." You turned off your lamp and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

****

You cracked your eyes open the next morning, the light of the red sky filling your room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes before feeling around for your doll. You couldn't find it. Your opened your eyes wider. The doll wasn't there. You leaped from the bed and quickly began turning over your covers and throwing the pillows onto the floor. Nothing. You dropped to the ground and peered under your bed to a shocking sight. You gasped.

Keekee somehow found her way into your room. And what was in her mouth other than your little Lucifer doll.

"Keekee," you called to her. "I'm gonna need that back, sweetie! That's not a toy!" Your hand reached out slowly, trying not to spook the little cat. Her tail whipped back and forth as she raised her hind legs. "Nooooooo, don't you dare Keekee, I swear I'll..." but before you could finish your threat, she bolted from under your bed and ran straight out of your room. "Damn it!"

You didn't have time to change and in that moment you didn't care. You flung the door wide open and watched Keekee turn the corner, the doll still in her tiny mouth. "Keekee, get back here!" you yelled down to her as quietly as you could. You didn't know what time it was but it was too early to be cursing at a cat. She scurried away into another hall, forcing you to chase after her. You never lost sight of her, which you thought was a little odd. Normally Keekee could disappear if she really wanted to, but at no point did she ever make an attempt to avoid you completely. It was almost like she wanted you to follow her.

After several crazy turns, you saw her duck into and open door in one of the hallways. You figured it must be a closet. She was finally trapped. You hurried over to the dark room and pushed the door shut so the cat couldn't escape easily. But now you couldn't see.

"Keekee, come here girl," you cooed. "I promise I'm not mad, I just want the doll back." You found it a little ridiculous that you were trying to barter with a cat, but it was early in the morning and your hadn't fully woken up yet. "This isn't funny anymore, you know. Please, Keekee, I need that back!"

"And why would that be?" a low voice boomed in the dark. You shrieked as the lights flashed on. After blinking a few times trying to get your eye to readjust, you realized where you ended up.

Lucifer's workshop...with Lucifer sitting at his desk, Keekee snuggled in his lap.

Shit.

The first thing you could process was that you were still in your nightgown. Instinctively, you threw your hands over your chest in shock and embarrassment.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Lucifer apologized, quickly covering his eyes with his forearm. "H-Here!" With a snap of his fingers, a giant blanket formed around you, covering you from head to toe. You gripped it tightly to keep in from falling off your shoulders. Lucifer peaked through his arm to make sure you were decent. "Sorry again, I should have realized you wouldn't have been dressed yet." You felt your cheeks burn as he spoke. He reached down to pet Keekee who had then dropped the doll into his other hand. "Such a good girl, Keekee!" he praised her, "who's a good girl? You are! Yes you are!" He looked back up at you and cleared his throat. Lucifer stood up from his chair while Keekee leaped onto the ground, curling up into a ball, and taking a little nap under his desk.

You swallowed hard before finally finding your voice to speak. "L-Lucifer, I-I can explain! I-"

"It's alright," the fallen angel smiled. "I'm sorry about all this, but you've been avoiding me lately. I knew you'd follow Keekee once you realized she stole this from you." He held out the doll in his hand. "You made this?"

You nodded your head, refusing to make any sort of eye contact. "It was meant as a gift for you. The duck you gave me was amazing, I wanted to give you something in return, but..." you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Lucifer continued to smile softly at you. This was definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him. You had so many questions and so many apologies to give him, but there was one burning question that you needed answered first. "Did you know something like this was possible?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I didn't. One of my feathers is in this, right?" You nod. "It must still contain its magic despite not being attached to me anymore."

Your eyes shifted to the ground. "How did you know it was me?"

"I heard you." You raised your eyebrow, not understanding his answer. "I heard your voice. Anytime you held the doll, I heard you, as if you were whispering in my ear. At first, I didn't recognize it. But as you kept talking, the words you were saying; it all clicked. I've been trying to get your attention these last few days but you ran as soon as you saw me. Were you...afraid that I would be angry?"

You nodded again, tears now welling up in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Lucifer, I didn't mean to...I just..."

"Hey, hey! Please don't cry! Please?" Lucifer quickly wiped away the tears that fell down your cheek. "I'm not angry, I promise! I'm the furthest thing from it!"

You sniffled a few times, trying to even out your breathing again. "You...You're not? But why?"

Lucifer looked down at the doll in his hand and sighed. "Because...I haven't felt that kind of care in a long time. " He gently ran his hands over the small striped undershirt of the tiny Lucifer. "Hehe, it feels weird when I do it..." He looked back up at you with the most needy eyes you've ever seen. "I should have talked to you immediately after I figured out what was going on. I should have made more of an effort. But I didn't. I know that's selfish of me. But...I was afraid if I did, you would stop. Every time I tried to talk to you, you ran. And I was silently grateful that you did. It meant I would get to feel that same feeling of being held again that night. When you said that last night would be the final time, I knew I had to come clean. I couldn't let you go on thinking that what you were doing was wrong. I hope you can forgive me."

He was apologizing to you? When you were the one that made this magical doll and refused to tell him about it? "You have nothing to be sorry for, I created this, and I didn't tell you what was happening when I learned what I'd done. This is my fault."

"Can I see your hand?" Lucifer asked, almost as if he was ignoring the blame you were putting on yourself. You did as he asked and outstretched your hand. He placed the doll flat in your palm. "You're very skilled, you know. You did a wonderful job capturing my good side," he chuckled. "I know this was originally meant for me, but I want you to keep it. What you do with it is up to you." You remained perfectly as he spoke. "If you want to forget that this ever happened, I would completely understand. You can put it on a shelf or hide it in a closet, and this will never be brought up again." His palms rested on top of the doll and the bottom of your hand. "But..." his grip tightened ever so slightly, his claws digging into the fabric.

"You don't want that, do you?" his thoughts leaving your mouth. Lucifer didn't respond, he didn't even look up as you asked him.

That was all the answer you needed.

You pulled away and hid the doll under your blanket, giving him a soft smile. "I'll keep it...you safe. I promise. If it's what you really want."

"I do." The king couldn't help but beam at you. He wrapped his arms around you, constricting your own. He pulled away once he realized how hard he had been squeezing you. "Sorry," he laughed lightly. "Umm, by the way, i-if you ever need me, you can use the doll to talk to me if I'm not around. It can be about anything..." he leaned in closer and closer to you until you felt the light brush of his lips against your cheek. "And I do mean anything. I don't want to, you know, assume anything, but there had to be a reason why you went to bed with the doll every night. Some of the things you said...it sounded like you had more that you wanted to say. I just don't want you to be afraid. We're friends after all, right?"

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you listened to his words. You tried to speak but only air left your lips. Lucifer only giggled as you watched his cheeks turn a pale yellow. You couldn't believe what he was inferring. it couldn't be possible. And yet here you were with Lucifer himself practically begging for more of your attention.

"I...I don't know what to say," you finally managed to choke out. "This is all a little overwhelming, Lucifer."

"Then don't say anything," Lucifer responded. "Take all the time you need. I hope to see you soon," With a snap of his fingers, you were engulfed in sparkling red flame. You shielded your eyes for a brief moment. But after opening them again, you found yourself back in your bedroom. You walked over to your open door and quietly closed it, sinking to the floor afterwards. There was a lot you needed to process. The blanket that covered you fell to the floor as you ogled at the doll in your hand.

You hugged it tighter than you ever had before.

****

The rest of the day was perfectly quiet, mostly because you did see Lucifer for the rest of it. You cautiously approached Charlie and asked about him. She let you know that her dad told her he needed his privacy today and that no one should worry. Her words didn't comfort you like you hoped they would. Was Lucifer okay? Did this whole ordeal cause him to isolate himself. Did he change his mind about it? Your heart sunk at the thought. You needed to talk to him again, but you weren't sure you could face him. But...there was another option.

Later that night, you threw on your robe to get ready for a nice long bath. After the day you had, you needed it. You glanced over at the little stuffed doll sitting on your night stand, now hearing your own heartbeat in your ears. It was now or never; you wouldn't let your nerves get the better of you anymore. You took a hold of it and sat down on your bed, now extra aware of  your hand movements.

"Lucifer, can you hear me?" You asked. There was no response. "I guess that was a stupid question. Hey, umm, I wanted to thank you. For today, I mean. I was so afraid that this situation would sully our friendship so badly that you'd never want to talk to me again. I hope you're doing alright. And I hope Keekee's teeth didn't hurt you too badly. I'm rambling now, aren't I?" In that moment, you could almost hear Lucifer's laugh.

The grip on you had on it tightened ever so slightly as you gathered the courage for what you really wanted to say. "You were right before. When you thought I had more to say to you. I-I did. But I didn't know how you would take it if I ever told you. I was afraid of your reaction. And your rejection. But...I don't have the strength to tell you in person." You brought the doll closer to your face, your lips ghosting over the fabric. "I love you," you whispered before planting a small peck to its small cheek.

Silence.

Your breath heaved slightly before setting the doll back down. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It was done. There was nothing more you can do. You stood up and headed straight for the tub. You needed that bath now more than ever.

Knock knock knock

You froze in place for a few seconds, a little bit frightened by the sudden noise that emanated from your bedroom door.

Knock knock knock knock knock

The knocking on the door became more eager. You hurried over to answer after waiting a little too long to answer. Silently, you opened the door.

Lucifer was standing there in the hallway with the brightest smile.

"I love you too. I only wish you would have told me sooner," the ruler of Hell whispered as he gripped your hands. "Because then I could have done this!"

With little warning, Lucifer brought his lips to yours. You sat there in shock, eyes wide, before quickly succumbing to his temptations. You let your eyes lids fall as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer while his hands found your waist. A delicate kiss to your soft lips, over and over he lightly parted his own as he continuously nipped at you. He pulled away, staring back with his half-lidded eyes. You could have sworn he was drunk of the kiss the way his face formed into a goofy grin. He giggled just a little before widening his eyes in shock and stepping away.

"I'm sorry! I don't know how I keep catching you at the worst times!" he exclaimed now looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. You realized what had caused him to get so flustered. You looked down and remembered that you were in your robe.

And only your robe.

You blushed hard, not being able to stop yourself from laughing. "No, no, it's okay! This one's on me, I shouldn't have called you dressed like this."

"But you didn't know I was going to pop over here! My fault, I don't wanna hear any 'buts'!" Lucifer turned his head to the side still doing his best not to look at you.

"Well, I was just getting ready for a bath..." you began.

"O-Oh, yeah, of course! No worries! I really should have thought this through, I just got really excited and I...Anyway! We can talk about this tomorrow! So, I'll just be-"

"My bath is big enough for two." You blurted out without thinking.

At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. What was only a few moments felt like an eternity of silence. Your first instinct was to shut the door and lock it as fast as possible, but your body refused to budge. You just stood there horrified at the words that had escaped your mouth.

Lucifer wasn't faring much better. You watched his whole face turn a bright yellow that spread rapidly over his painted cheeks. And...was he shaking?

"I don't know why I said that," you mumbled almost incoherently. "if you need me, I'll be drowning myself now." You began to close the door before Lucifer caught it.

"I don't want you to drown," he spoke softly with just a hint of humor in his voice. "I better stay to make sure you're safe."

His words shot threw you like an arrow and your body instinctively opened the door once more to let your visitor in. The implications of his acceptance of your accidental offer crashed over you as soon as Lucifer closed the door behind him. He gave you a sheepish smile, his face's yellow tint had yet to rescind.

"I-I'll uhh, I'll draw the bath then," you squeaked and scurried over to the bathroom without another word. You tossed a towel for him onto your bed and hid yourself in the next room as the water began to fill the tub. You felt as though you could pass out at any moment; the crushing anxiety mixed with your burning desire to be as close to him as physically possible was a terrifying yet tantalizing feeling. To counter your worry, you grabbed some bottled soap from the counter and mixed it in with the steaming water, creating thousands of little white bubbles that threatened to spill over onto the floor. You would worry about any mess made later; right now, you wanted to savor this moment as much as you possibly could. Disrobing, you stepped into the now full tub and sunk down into the soothing water. Your heart was still beating a mile a minute but the water did half a sort of calming effect on you.

Knock knock knock

Well, that didn't last long.

"May I join you now?" Lucifer's muffled voiced called out.

A few quick deep breaths later, you cleared your throat, praying your voice wouldn't reveal how utterly stressed you were. "Y-Yes, come in!" Perhaps a poor choice of words, but you didn't have time to think about that when you caught your first glimpse of a nearly naked Lucifer. His alabaster skin looked as if he had been carved from the finest marble, his shoulders were broad compared to his relatively slim physique. Your eyes trailed to his blackened arms and hands that perfectly contrasted the rest of his skin. He was the epitome of perfection. The man closed the door behind him and made his way over to you.

"H-Hi," Lucifer stuttered.

"Heeeyyyyy there..." you rolled your eyes. "Listen, we can agree this is just a little awkward, right?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe just a little bit. How's the water?"

"Join me and see for yourself! I'll just umm..." you turned your head and covered the side of your face with your hand, assuring you wouldn't see anything once he removed his towel.

"I'm not shy, hon." You just knew if you turned around, he would have the most prideful smirk on his face.

"You should get in before I change my mind," you playfully shot back.

You heard his towel hit the floor immediately. A fiery heat burned your core as the water shifted when he made his way in the tub. You closed your eyes for good measure so that you wouldn't be tempted to make this even more awkward than it already was. As soon as the water stopped moving, you took that as a sign that it was safe to look again. You turned your head to see Lucifer was sitting back against the other side playfully running his hands through the soapy bubbles that were floating on the surface.

"I love the bubbles, a very nice touch!" he commented.

"Thanks," you murmured. "You're sitting the wrong way though."

"Huh?"

"W-Well," you cleared your throat, "how am I supposed to clean you if you’re sitting so far away?"

"Oh...oh! Yeah, you're right!" Lucifer quickly spun his body around, his back now facing you. You spread your legs wider for him to scoot up closer to you, but he remained closer to the center of the tub. "Is this better?"

"Still a little too far..." The time for embarrassment had long gone. You grabbed a hold of Lucifer's hips and brought his body nearly flush between your thighs, earning a yelp from the startled angel. "What happened to not being shy, hmm?" you taunted. You could have sworn a little whimper escaped his throat.

Despite its frigid appearance, his body was warmer than you expected. You didn't let your hands linger on his waist for too long nor did you want to think about how his ass was mere inches away from your yearning womanhood. You forced yourself out of the trance and instead grabbed the washcloth and body soap from the small table and began to pour some of the liquid into the small towel, rubbing it between your fingers. "You promise to tell me if this becomes too much?"

Lucifer turned his head with a soft look on his face. "I promise that it won't be." You hummed, slowly bringing the cloth to his skin. He shuddered from the contact.

"Are you alright, Lucifer?"

He exhaled deeply. "I'm alright. More than alright! I'm just...really enjoying this. Thank you..."

You didn't waist anymore time scrubbing the rest of his back clean. Moving to his shoulders, down each arms, then reaching around the front to get to his chest. Without realizing, your head found its way to one of his shoulders, your chin resting comfortably. A soft sigh left your lips.

"Hey, uhh, y-you're going a little low there..." Lucifer said, his voice snapping you out of your haze. Your hand somehow drifted below the water and ended up resting on his lower stomach. Once you realized where you were heading, you pulled your arms away immediately.

"Sorry!" you nearly shouted. "I-I wasn't paying attention! Shit, I'm sorry!"

Lucifer shifted again, now facing you and gave you a small peck. "Sweetheart, it's alright, really! You don't need to apologize." Lucifer took the rag from your hand and made his way back to where he first started against the other side of the tub. "Here, let me return the favor. It's your turn now." With mild hesitation, you accepted his help wordlessly, turning your back to him as he did for you. Afraid of getting any closer, you stopped before any noticeable contact had been made. "I need you closer, dear," he whispered in your ear before pulling you against his chest with minimal effort.

You felt everything in that moment; his hands resting on your hips, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, and most distracting of all, his very noticeable hard on against the small of your back. It took everything you had to not scream like you wanted to. Knowing that this perfect creator was turned on by you made your heart flutter like a butterfly. Your body begged your to shift, if only a little bit, just to feel him rub against you. But you fought it against it furiously, digging your finger into the sides of his thighs to keep yourself grounded. The way your body tensed caused Lucifer to push you away from him slightly.

"Too much?" he asked, concerned that he may have crossed a line.

"No." you shook your head. You pushed yourself back against him, the friction sending a shiver up your spine. The low moan from Lucifer was magical, almost hypnotic. You needed to hear more. But before you could shift again, you felt the soft texture of the washcloth against your back.

"Good," his voice causing goosebumps to form on your arms, "now let's get you clean." He mimicked your movements, gliding the cloth against your soft skin, starting from the top and working his way down methodically. He moved to your shoulders, first the left and the right. Every muscle in your body just wanted to relax into him; you only wanted to float in this water with him for the rest of the night. But you were snapped out of your daydream when you noticed his movements had stopped. You looked down and saw his hand resting on your collarbone. It took only a moment to realize why the devil himself became a statue.

Lucifer swallowed hard behind you. "Am I allowed to...can I...?"

With a small giggle, you took the cloth from his hand and tossed it to the ground. Pulling your hands out of the water, you guided his own hands to your breasts. Lucifer gasped lightly but didn't pull away once your released his hands. His claws felt so nice on your bare skin that you let out a gasp of your own. "I think we're past the point of modesty, Lucifer. Go ahead, I-I want you to touch me."

Your permission was all he needed. Within a second, the king of Hell began to massage your breasts with the most delicate of touches, kneading them like fresh dough. His mouth sank down onto your pulse, sucking on it feverishly. A small whimper escaped your throat as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers. The man was intoxicated and you were the cause.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" he breathed against your skin. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you how beautiful you are? How enchanting? How irresistible?" One of his hands made its way down your side to your hip, sinking beneath the water and resting on your inner thigh. "To hold you like this is a dream come true."

"Lucifer, please..." you begged. Your hand found his once more and guided it down to where you needed him most. Once his fingers reached your folds, you couldn't help but whimper. In no time, he began circling your clit gingerly while his other hand worked at your breast. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You opened your legs as wide as your tub would allow to give him more access to your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want, love," he whispered in your ear. "Just say the word and it's yours."

"Touch me..." you pleaded.

You felt a finger slip into you effortlessly, a broken moan falling from your lips. You turned your head and crashed your lips into his, your desire for him only growing with every passing second. Another one of his fingers slid into you, his digits gliding in and out of your pussy with ease. He moaned into your mouth as he continued to pump his digits into your cunt, his pace increasing slowly with every movement.

"Need more of you..." he pleaded. "Please..." His fingers refused to let up. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter. You cried out in pure elation when you felt the coil finally give way, cumming hard and pulsing around his fingers that had yet to slow down. Once you could breathe normally against, he at last retreated his fingers from you, giving you a small peck on your forehead.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled out. "I think we're both pretty clean now, wouldn't you say."

"I'd say your right," Lucifer agreed. In a flash, Lucifer managed to stand up and scoop you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small yelp when he picked you up and set you down on the bathroom floor, retrieving a towel from the nearby rack and sliding it up and down your body before using it on himself. "But I think this is all for naught," he continued as he guided you back to your bed, "because I think we may need another bath, I'm afraid."

He laid you down and quickly shoved his heads between your legs. You realized what he was about to do and sat up before he could go any further. "Wait, wait, hold on now!" Lucifer's eyes looked back at you with concern. "I don't think this is fair! What about you? I haven't even touched you yet!"

Lucifer gaze softened. "Oh, hon, I appreciate it but you don't have to worry about me! I-I'm fine, really! I just...I really need to taste you... Please, I'll do anything!"

You closed your legs and folded your arms over your chest, earning a tiny whimper from the man in front of you. "I seem to recall that I could have anything I wanted," you teased. Lucifer nodded and stuck out his lower lip to pout. You rolled your eyes and smiled, crawling over to him. "I have an idea. But you need to lay down for me. Can you do that?"

He did as you said almost instantly, his head hitting the back of the pillows with a soft thud. At this point you couldn't help but stare at his twitching cock. It was beautiful; thicker and longer than you might have expected from someone of his stature. Not that you would ever complain. You had to hold yourself back from letting out a whine that threatened to make you sound even more pathetic. You closed your eyes and crawled over the devil beneath you. You leaned down to kiss him again, his tongue not holding back from pushing through your lips and entangling it with yours. You pulled away and smiled unabashedly at him, admiring his perfect face and his insanely adorable blush. Without a word, you turned your body so your pussy hovered inches away from his mouth.

"S-Shit..." you heard Lucifer mutter under his breath. Knowing you had this much of an effect on him gave you the confidence you needed to grab ahold of his aching member. Lucifer couldn't help but cry out.

"This way we both get what we want," you told him before giving his tip a tiny little kitten lick. The precum from his shaft had already begun spilling onto your hand; you couldn't help but grin. "Someone is needyyyyYYYY F-FUCK!"

Lucifer pulled your hips down onto his face without warning, his tongue working at your slick cunt like a man starved. HIs claws dug into the sides of your body, the pain mixing with the undeniable pleasure his mouth gave you. Not to be outdone, you sunk your mouth down on his cock, licking and sucking at the tip. Lucifer moaned into your pussy at the feeling of your tongue. Both of your lust-filled sounds filled your room as you each sought to bring the other to their climax. You wouldn't let him win. You couldn't.

Your head bobbed up and down his girthy shaft over and over, taking in as much of him as you could. But with your growing pace came Lucifer's own counter move as his forked tongue pushed even further into you than you thought possible. You were both coming undone impossibly fast. Even with your head fuzzy from the tantalizing feeling of his mouth, your hand and mouth worked together in tandem to push him over the edge. Lucifer cursed against your skin as you felt his hot cum finally fill your waiting mouth. But it only took him a few seconds more to bring you to another orgasm after he begun to tease your clit over and over and over, refusing to give you any sort of reprieve.

You swallowed as much of his as you could before letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop with some of his release dripping down towards your chin. You wiped your fingers against the remains and made sure he watched as you licked them clean. Something in Lucifer must have snapped because the next thing you knew, you had been flipped down onto the mattress with your wrists pinned at your sides. You blinked and stared up into Lucifer now glowing red eyes; his. His demonic horns had burst from his temple, his angelic wings appeared and began flapping behind him, and his tail whipped back and forth before coiling itself around your waist. You gulped, your pussy begging to be filled by the man above you.

"Sorry," Lucifer apologized. "I got a little too excited there." He freed your hands and brought them down to your hips. "D-Do you want to keep going? We can stop if this is too much and-"

You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. "It's alright, Luci. I want this. I want you."

Lucifer smiled and kissed you again, stroking his still hard cock in the process. When he pulled away, you felt the tip graze your slick folds. That feeling alone was enough to make you shudder with anticipation. With final nod from you, Lucifer at last began to sink into you. You winced at the pain you felt as your body forced itself to stretch for him until he finally bottomed out inside of you. The pain slowly faded as he waited patiently, smiling at you the entire time.

"Y-You can move now," you squeaked out.

Lucifer nodded, shifting his hips just enough to pull out of you almost all the way before thrusting back in, earning a wanton moan from you. He started slow for you, knowing his size was a bit much to handle. But as your body relaxed, his picked up the pace. Faster and faster until both of you were complete and utter moaning messes.

"F-Fuck...feel so good, love," Lucifer sighed as his wings began to twitch. "S-So good. So perfect...I'm really happy y-you made that doll. I-I know everything didn't go exactly as planned but...GAAHHH FFFFUCK...I think it all turned out f-for the better, don't you think?"

Your moans turned into giggles as he continued to rut into you relentlessly. "You're s-such a dork," you laughed as your legs wrapped around him to force him to keep him as deep inside you as possible.

"B-But I'm your dork," he joked back. "Sorry love, but you're stuck with m-me now!"

"G-Good," you responded breathlessly, his hips thrusting into you even faster than before. "Then we c-can be dorks together!"

"P-Perfect!" Your cunt sucked in his cock as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening again. By the noises he was making, you can only assume Lucifer was almost at his limit too. "Darling...c-can't...I'm close...f-fuck...where-"

"Inside!" you screamed. "FuckfuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!" Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your wanton cries echoing off the corners of your room. It only took a few more thrusts for Lucifer to follow suit and spill his seed inside of you, his cum painting your walls a pearlescent white was he pulled you in close for another passionate kiss.

The king crashed on top of you after pulling out of you, his unearthly features retreating except for his tail which remained firmly wrapped around you. You smiled as he laid his head on your chest, his breathing labored and shaky. You stroked his soft blond hair as he hummed in approval. He looked up at you with adoring eyes and stuck out his snake-like tongue.

"What's that look for?" you asked him.

"Oh nothing," Lucifer sighed, "I'm just looking at the prettiest woman in all of Hell is all!"

You pushed his face away and laughed. "Yep, still a dork."

"But you love me!" he said gleefully, rolling onto the bed and pulling you into a tight embrace.

"I do, I really do. I wish I would have told you sooner."

Lucifer kissed the top of your forehead. "Don't worry, hon, I know now. And that's all that matters. Besides, I finally get to hold you now! And wow, does it feel like heaven!"

You buried your face in his chest and squeezed him tight. "Well, I can say for certain that you feel much better than the doll. Would you...like to stay over tonight?"

"Of course I would love," he spoke softly. "I have you in my arms now, and I don't intend on ever letting you go."

~~~~

THIS TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj

@bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps

@ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @pvppybun

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@lauruoriii @annybah @jayyyayaysblog @sweet-radio @diffidentphantom

@sunflower-reaper @6esiree @writteninlunarlight-years

[mapis-putellas]

𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Words: 750

Warnings: none

Summary: you meet Katie at a football game when you rescue her.

Notes: writing her accent was hard but I think it came out good 😭

You hadn’t been paying much attention to the match, honestly. It was a men’s game, and you were only there because a friend had insisted. The game itself was a draw so far, neither team bringing anything exceptional to the pitch. But then, during halftime, you’d spotted her.

Katie was standing off to the side, talking with someone who was clearly trying to pull her into conversation. She had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, dressed in jeans and an Arsenal jacket, hands tucked into her pockets as she politely nodded along. You didn’t know much about women’s football, but even you recognized her—Arsenal’s star player, the famous Irish one. You could see she was trying to inch away from the bloke, who seemed oblivious to the fact she wasn’t all that interested.

Not even thinking it through, you walked over, slipping into the conversation as if you knew her. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere,” you said, flashing her a wide grin as you sidled up beside her.

Katie looked at you, surprised but catching on quickly. “Oh! Aye, been lookin’ fer ya meself,” she replied smoothly, her thick Irish accent making you bite back a smile.

You hooked your arm through hers, giving her a wink. “Hope you don’t mind me stealing her for a bit,” you said to the bloke, who looked taken aback.

Katie turned her head slightly, hiding her grin. “Sorry, mate,” she added, a smirk tugging at her lips as the man awkwardly excused himself.

Once he was out of earshot, she raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “An’ who’re ya then? Rescuin’ strangers in the middle o’ football matches?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though you could feel your cheeks flushing. “Someone who can’t stand watching a decent person trapped in a dreadful conversation.”

Katie laughed, low and warm, her brown eyes studying you with interest. “Well, thank ya fer tha’, darlin’. Coulda been stuck all day wi’ tha’ one.”

Your heart stuttered a bit at the way she called you “darlin’” like she’d known you forever. “My pleasure,” you said, grinning. “So, what’s a famous Arsenal player doing at a men’s game anyway?”

She shrugged, tucking her hands back into her pockets. “Ah, just supportin’ the sport. Few mates o’ mine’re playin’. Thought I’d show me face.”

Her accent was thick, and you couldn’t help but smile every time she dropped a “ya” or softened a “t.” You decided to tease her just a little, grinning as you mimicked, “Ah, supportin’ the sport, are ya?”

She rolled her eyes but was smiling. “Aye, cheeky, aren’t ya? Gonna mock me accent now, are ya?”

You laughed. “Only a little. I think it’s cute.”

Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave you an amused look. “Cute, is it? Never heard tha’ one before.”

You shrugged. “First time for everything.”

Katie just looked at you, her gaze warm and a little curious. “So, are ya a fan o’ Arsenal then, or just here fer the thrill?”

You shrugged again. “A friend dragged me along. I don’t mind football, but I wouldn’t call myself a superfan or anything.”

“Well, tha’s a shame,” she said, her voice light but her gaze sharp. “We could always use more fans, y’know?”

You smirked, tilting your head at her. “Maybe I’ll make an exception. Just for the women’s team.”

“Oh, jus’ for us, aye?” She laughed, and the sound was infectious. You liked the way she looked at you, her eyes crinkling at the edges, like she was genuinely having a good time.

A little bravely, you asked, “So, you up for a drink after this? If you’re not too busy being famous?”

Katie chuckled, glancing around as if she had to make sure no one important was listening. “Yeah, I think I could spare a bit o’ time fer ya,” she said, her accent lilting in that endearing way.

You couldn’t hide the grin that stretched across your face. “Great. I’ll even promise not to mock your accent too much.”

“Better not,” she teased, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Might have ta show ya a real Irish lesson if ya do.”

With that, she slipped her hand into yours, giving it a small squeeze before tugging you toward the exit. And just like that, you were off to drinks with Katie, your accidental rescue turning into the start of something that felt like it could be a lot more than just one night.

**

Tags:

@goldenempyrean @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @marysfics @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @wileys-russo

[littlelamy]

Could you do Reader meeting Drew at carnival or something? Reader is there with her two friends and Drew is there with his, Odessa and co. Both groups are in odd numbers, meaning someone always has to sit with a stranger during a carousel ride. This time it is Reader’s turn to sit with a stranger while her friends sit togehter. Same for Drew. Reader and Drew get put together in a ride. Some awkward tension, attraction and cuteness. As soon as they get off the ride tho, Odessa runs up to Drew hugging him, so Reader gets the impression that he is taken and is like ‘’Oh…guess I won’t ask for his number…..:/ ‘’ and walks off. But then at some point Drew sees her again at the carnival and well…….

hope you like it !!⭐️ the air was thick with the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, the sounds of laughter and screams from carnival rides filling the night. you, along with your two friends, were making your way through the throngs of people, the vibrant lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors around you. your friend jenna was already eyeing the ferris wheel, while casey was determined to find the most ridiculous hat she could wear for a photo op.

“can we please go on something that won’t make me want to hurl?” you joked, clutching your stomach as you passed a spinny ride that looked like it could launch someone into orbit.

“oh, come on! where’s your sense of adventure?” jenna teased, giving you a playful shove. “we’re here to have fun!”

just then, you caught sight of a group across the way: a guy with tousled hair, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, surrounded by a couple of friends, one of whom was waving her arms like a lunatic. you couldn’t help but smirk; they looked like a band of misfits, and the guy—drew, you overheard someone call him—had an easy charm that was hard to ignore.

as you wandered toward the carousel, the sound of cheerful music inviting you closer, drew’s laugh carried over to you, loud and unapologetic. he had that kind of laugh that made you want to roll your eyes, but you also found yourself grinning. the carousel was in a weird configuration: you and your friends were odd-numbered, meaning one of you would have to sit with a stranger. guess who that unlucky bastard was? you.

“looks like it’s you, champ,” casey said, nudging you forward as jenna giggled. “have fun with your mystery date!”

you shot her a mock glare before stepping up to the ride. meanwhile, drew was being pushed by his friends toward the same ride, and you both ended up on the same horse—his a little to the left of yours. great.

as the carousel began to spin, you shot drew a sideways glance. he looked at you, and for a moment, everything blurred into the background. “so, this is fun,” you said, trying to fill the awkward silence. “i’m thrilled to be your carousel buddy.”

“thrilled? oh, it must be my lucky day,” he replied, his smirk making your heart flutter. “what’s your name? or should I just call you my new favorite stranger?”

“y/n. and you’re drew, right?”

“guilty as charged. so, what brings you here? other than the joy of being awkwardly paired with a stranger on a spinning ride?”

you laughed, the sound a bit louder than you intended. “just here for the chaos, i guess. you know, cotton candy, overpriced games, and the constant threat of nausea.”

“ah, a connoisseur of fine carnivals! i like that,” he grinned, leaning closer. “i, too, have a refined taste in fine cotton candy and the thrill of potential vomiting on a carousel. it’s a true art form, really.”

you shook your head, laughing. “you’re ridiculous. but in the best way.”

the ride continued, the two of you exchanging jokes, the initial awkwardness fading into something more comfortable. you caught yourself sneaking glances at him, taking in the way his lips curled into a smirk and how animated his expressions were. he was cute—like, really cute.

but as the ride slowed to a stop, reality came crashing back. you were both about to disembark when suddenly, a blur of energy rushed up to drew. “drew!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. it was odessa, the friend from earlier, and the two of them looked way too cozy. your heart sank as you realized that maybe drew wasn’t available after all.

“oh… guess i won’t be asking for his number,” you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile as you stepped away. you could feel the bubble of attraction deflate like a popped balloon. you waved goodbye to your friends and started to walk away, trying to ignore the sting of disappointment.

time passed, and the carnival lights danced around you, but your mind kept drifting back to the moment with drew. you were beginning to think you’d never see him again when, out of nowhere, he came sprinting back into view. his friends were trailing behind him, and he was looking for something—or someone.

“hey!” he called, spotting you. you turned, a little surprised he even remembered your name. “you didn’t get my number!”

“yeah, well, you were kind of busy being hugged by odessa,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively.

“trust me, it’s not what it looks like. we're just friends,” he said, rolling his eyes. "want to grab some cotton candy together? i promise to share, but only if you’re willing to do it like true adults—by faceplanting into it.”

your heart did a little flip at his invitation. “okay, but only if you promise to eat it straight off the stick like civilized humans.”

drew laughed, his eyes lighting up. “deal! and who knows, maybe we can find a ride that doesn’t require sitting next to strangers. unless you’re into that. i’m not here to judge. my friends and i have a running bet on who can make the most ridiculous small talk on rides, and i could use some competition.”

he led you through the carnival, weaving between the crowds, his hand brushing against yours like he was testing the waters. your heart raced as you made your way toward the ferris wheel, its lights twinkling like a galaxy above you. “this is the best ride for some real fun,” he said, leaning closer as you waited in line. “you get a killer view of the carnival and the chance to make out in the moonlight if you play your cards right.”

“oh, really?” you shot back, trying to sound nonchalant, though your cheeks felt hot. “is that a guarantee?”

“i’m just saying,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “i can be pretty persuasive. or maybe it’s just the cotton candy talking.”

as you climbed into the gondola and it began to rise, the world below you shrank, the lights of the carnival twinkling like stars. you could feel the excitement building, your heart racing not just from the height but from being so close to him. drew leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you know, this would be the perfect time to kiss someone,” he murmured, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“oh, is that right?” you replied, challenging him with a smirk.

“absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to steal a kiss while overlooking a carnival filled with chaos?” he asked, leaning even closer until your lips were mere inches apart.

in that moment, everything else faded away. the noise of the carnival, the lights, the world—it was just you and drew, suspended in that gondola. you could feel the heat radiating between you as you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly turned hungry. he tasted like cotton candy and adventure, and you lost yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as you melted against him.

when you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he grinned like he’d just won the jackpot. “so, how was that for some carnival fun?” he teased, clearly pleased with himself.

“definitely more exciting than a roller coaster,” you admitted, your heart still racing.

“well, the night is still young,” he said, his grin widening. “let’s see what other trouble we can get into.”

as the ferris wheel creaked to a stop, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of a wild night filled with laughter, chaos, and maybe a few more kisses.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence,

Word count: 1,031

"I'll be back on Monday! No funny business, no parties, and the pizza money is in the drawer by the hallway!" Wade shouted, slamming the car door before walking away.

"Finally," Logan muttered, his gaze still fixed on the windshield, his face impassive.

I glanced at Laura in the rearview mirror. Even if he'd never admit it, Logan enjoyed Wade and his antics in his own way.

"So, how’s it going at the Institute?" I asked Laura, hoping to break the heavy silence.

“It’s fine,” she replied, stopping at a red light, her eyes glued to the road.

Logan eventually broke the silence, almost reluctantly. “It’s a good place. They can help you settle in.”

“You guys are welcome too,” she retorted as the light turned green. “They could help you with your powers. Besides, they’re short-staffed. They could use someone to handle a bunch of teens… especially teens with superpowers,” she added, casting a pointed look at Logan.

He clenched his jaw. “That’s all behind me.”

In the rearview mirror, I saw Laura’s face fall slightly, as if she regretted bringing it up. A bitter silence settled, heavy with memories. I knew that as soon as we got dropped off, Logan would probably head straight to a bar to forget.

“How about we order a pizza?” I suggested to the two mutants in the front, hoping to lighten the mood.

They glanced back at me in the mirror, a fleeting smile on their faces.

A few hours later, we were all sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes scattered on the coffee table.

“Comedy or horror?” Laura asked, the remote in one hand and a slice of pineapple pizza in the other.

“Put on whatever you want,” Logan replied, cracking open another beer.

She looked at me for my opinion, and I just shrugged with a smile, content with the relaxed vibe. She scrolled through the options on the screen. Beside me, Logan was relaxed, his dark eyes fixed on the TV. The white T-shirt he was wearing suited him surprisingly well, and I could feel his arm brushing against mine, an innocent but electrifying touch.

With each quick glance at him, memories of the bar came back to me, and I found myself imagining what might have happened if Wade hadn’t interrupted us. These thoughts wrapped me in a warm haze.

Finally, Laura settled on a horror movie. *Scream*, a classic, perfect for a pizza night. But I was having a hard time focusing. My attention kept drifting back to Logan, sitting so close.

“These kids are so stupid,” Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s what everyone says watching horror movies, but I’m not sure teenage me would’ve done any better,” I replied, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Between rehearsals and dance classes, I barely had time to sleep. Killing someone… well, that was even less likely.”

He smirked. “That explains so much.”

"Right? So, tell us about teenage you in Canada, back when there was no electricity or running water," I teased with a playful smile.

Laura was watching us, a smile on her face, finding our exchange more interesting than the movie. Logan and I exchanged a few knowing smiles before she stood up.

“I’m gonna grab a soda,” she said, slipping into the kitchen and leaving us alone in this intimate moment.

"She’s great," I said, watching the door she had just disappeared through.

“Yeah,” he replied, his face hardening, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” I said, placing my hand on his, reminding him of our promise from the bar.

He looked up at me, surprised. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “But… sometimes, it all just gets to be too much.”

I nodded, feeling the depth of his unease.

“I know.” My thumb brushed his hand softly. His gaze, dark and intense, held secrets he dared not share.

I looked up, and our eyes met. His usually guarded stare softened, revealing fatigue and invisible scars. He broke the silence, his voice low:

“It’s rare… to feel this good.”

He squeezed my hand gently, as if to reassure himself that this moment was real.

Our gazes locked, the silence between us loaded with unspoken emotions. I felt almost trembling under his look. Logan, usually so distant, was looking at me differently, with a glimmer I’d never noticed before.

“Hey,” Laura said, coming back from the kitchen and breaking the spell between Logan and me. “Sorry, but I have to go,” she announced, holding up her phone.

“Everything okay?” Logan asked, his face concerned.

“Yeah, I totally forgot my friend Taylor was supposed to help me with my shopping.”

Logan nodded with a murmur, but his skepticism was clear. “Take some pizza with you; there’s too much for the two of us,” I said, quickly getting up to pack some for her.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing the boxes. “Tonight was fun… we should do it again sometime.” I nodded, smiling, holding the door open for her as she struggled with the boxes. “See you soon.”

Logan and I, now alone, stood there, our eyes fixed on the closed door for a moment. “That was a lie, right?” Logan asked.

“You never lied to go see your crush?” I shot back with a mischievous smile.

“So, you were one of those bad girls who lied to mess with boys?” he replied, his intense gaze locked onto mine.

My breathing quickened, my body warming. My breath was short; I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at him and kiss him.

“I… I need to go to the laundry room,” I said, unable to hold his gaze any longer, using the excuse of a basket of dirty laundry left out.

He nodded, seeming to collect himself, and watched me pick up the basket as I fled. “I’ll take a shower,” he said as I darted out of the apartment.

When I got to the hallway, I realized I’d forgotten the detergent in my hurry. Returning to the apartment, I walked straight into Logan, shirtless, coming out of the bathroom.

“Sorry… I forgot the…” I was unable to look away from his hairy chest and toned muscles.

[bratzbrat]

✟The Witch Hunter!

pairing: a witch!hunter! Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader.

cw: mentions of death!/ death threats! | female reader! | mature language! | please proceed with caution! |

1.7k+ words.

ΝϴͲᎬ: hi bugs! sorry it took this long for chapter 4! but I've been up at late hours taking care of my grandma and carrying her for check ups at the hospital these past few days. she's doing better now! so hope ya enjoy!

⊰𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 pt.1⊱ »»————> Bitter Hunter...

"good, you're up," he grunted, noticing your glare as you struggled against the shackles. "we're continuin' on foot."

"are you serious?" you scoffed, tugging against the restraints. "you went all the way back there, just to chain me up again?"

"damn right i did," he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "ain't giving ya' any more chances to use yer tricks."

rolling your eyes, you rose to your feet, "if i wanted to do anything, I would've done so last night..." you scowled, shaking off the cold stiffness lingering in your body from the night before. "so, you're going to drag me through the snow like this?" and your eyes widened as you realized... you were already dressed... though the delicate silver armor that once adorned your core, was missing, but he didn't give you much time to dwell on it

"got a problem?" he challenged, folding his arms. "didn't think so. now, move it." he gripped your arm and tugged you forward with a curt, "let's go."

as he dragged you out of the little house, you we're met with green sceneries, all around, as if snow hadn't almost buried you alive last night, and you gawked at the sight in disbelief. the forest floor was covered in patches of grass and flowers, you could hear the faint sound of running water in a nearby river and birds chirping from their homes in the towering trees. it was unbelievable. and the hunter tugged you forward, to start walking.

you tried keeping pace behind him, your breath picking up as you struggled to follow. the chill in the morning air and the heels you wore were doing you no favors. and each time he pulled on your chains, you winced, feeling bruises form on your wrists.

"can't you at least ease up a bit?" you suggested, trying to maintain a light tone, despite your growing fatigue. "it's not like i'm going anywhere."

"shut it, witch," he shot back, focus unwavering as he navigated the uneven terrain. "the last thing I need is you fallin' behind."

you huffed, rolling your eyes. "well i'm not exactly keen on being here. you're the one dragging me behind you."

"i could leave yer ass here, if you'd like." he muttered, and you could hear the overflowing sarcasm in his voice.

"is this your idea of kindness, then? like last night?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. "what generousity from a witch hunter."

"don' twist it," he growled, glancing back at you with that familiar scowl. "it was survival. that's it. nothin' more."

"sure it was, it's not like you were pressing my bare chest into yours... with your fingers almost digging into my back, might I add..." you retorted, unable to help yourself from teasing him a little. "i thought maybe we'd formed a connection, you know?"

"don' get ahead of yourself," he replied, barely sparing you a glance. "it wasn't like that, it ain't like that, and it won't ever be." he stressed, "i'll never feel anythin' for a witch."

you felt a sting at his words, but you quickly brushed it off. "right, it's ridiculous to think otherwise..." you muttered to yourself.

every step you took was met with sharp rocks and thorny brambles, tearing at your exposed ankles. the blonde hot head, grunted in frustration, each time you stumbled, with a scowl etched across his almost perfect face. the shackles clinked with every move, limiting your balance and speed. when you tripped over an uneven stone and landed hard on your knee, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, folding his arms as if to say, 'of course.'

"can't even walk fuckin' straight without makin' things harder, can ya'?" he growled, looking back at you on the ground.

you shot him a glare, pulling yourself up. "maybe I wouldn't keep tripping if I wasn't chained up like this!"

"maybe you wouldn't be, if I trusted you," he shot back, with a slight bit of mockery in his tone. "now stop whinin' and keep movin'."

your steps felt heavier the longer you walked, and your shoes—meant for anything but landscaping— only worsened the ordeal. a sharp pain pulsed through your foot as you stumbled once more, and you let out a frustrated huff.

"agh- my feet—" you started.

and mr. hot head cut you off with an annoyed snarl, "then quit wearin' those ridiculous fuckin' shoes. ain't doin' anyone favors with 'em."

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. the exhaustion was setting in, making it harder to ignore the ache in your feet, the rawness of your wrists and the ever-growing hunger gnawing at your stomach. finally, you had enough.

"stop," you said, tugging back against his grip. "we need to rest."

he spun around, eyes narrowed in irritation. "y'think just 'cause yer tired we're takin' a break? newsflash, princess: we ain't got the luxury."

you stood firm, refusing to budge. "you can grunt all you want, i'm not going anywhere until I can feel my feet again."

he let out a rough exhale, "we're movin', even if I gotta drag ya' the whole way." clearly at the end of his patience.

you dropped to the ground with a huff, closing your eyes for a moment, letting the brief reprieve calm your pounding heart. and you could feel his glare fixed on you.

you looked up at him, undeterred by his hostility. "without my cooperation, we'd have a pretty slim chance of making it out of here alive, you know." you said, your tone unwavering.

his eyes narrowed down at you again and his jaw clenched at your words. "i don' need a godsdamn witch's help," he sneered, "just need you alive long enough to haul your ass back to stand trial. if i gotta drag ya' the whole way there, i will."

"and what then? you think a stiff-necked trial will do anything but waste everyone's time?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes. you could get out of this anytime you wanted...

his lips curled into a bitter smirk. "that stiff-necked trial decides the exact way yer gonna die." he lowered himself down in front of you, "people 're gonna pay good coin to see yer head roll." and sneered, making sure he looked you dead in the eyes. " 'n if they choose torture instead, i'll make sure ya' beg for death. 'cause i'll be the one carryin' it out." his eyes drifted from yours to your slightly parted lips, then quickly darted back up again.

"before that, hunter, i'll make you beg for the help of a witch." you challenged, getting a little lost in his fire.

his words had snapped a few heartstrings that formed when held you for warmth, and you cursed yourself for feeling even a ounce of anything for him, as you looked into his crimson eyes. "so beautiful," you whispered, barely audible and he shuffled back a bit, glaring at you.

you met his stare again, shaking off that thought. "you better pray to the goddess, that we don't run into trouble. you might be strong, but even the strongest have their weaknesses."

he scoffed at your —uncalled for— words, but the flicker of hesitation in his eyes was there, even if, just for a second. ignoring it, he gave a sharp tug on your arm, forcing you back to your feet. "we're wastin' daylight. let's go." was all he brought himself to say.

-

the hours crawled by as you trudged forward and just when you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, you saw a small village ahead, nestled in the valley, like it was forgotten by the rest of the world.

he paused, surveying the huts and cabins, with a tense expression before turning to you. "listen up," he commanded, "keep any 'n all of your... witch crap hidden. last thing I need is anyone seein' me with a livin' one o' you."

"aw, and we were just on the brink of becoming friends too..." you pouted, feigning disappointment.

"try anythin', and I mean at all, and you'll regret it." he shot you a sharp glare, and you had to suppress an amused laugh.

"we wouldn't want that, would we?" you teased, locking eyes with him just before he tugged at your chains, leading you into the village.

you trailed behind him, your eyes drifting over the skeletal remains of what used to be a village. crumbling huts and rotting beams cast shadows across the ash-covered ground, each step stirring up fragments of the life that had once been here. and the only sounds being the crunch of your footsteps.

"oi, witch, keep up. ain't got all day for you to gawk at some broken-down village." he grunted in irritation, glancing back to see you lingering near one of the collapsed structures.

you raised a brow. "what's the matter? are you scared a curse might rub off on you?" you teased.

"tch," he scoffed, turning away from you. "i ain't scared of some pathetic curse. just don' wanna spend any more time in witch-infested places than I gotta." but that wasn't it. something else had been rubbing him in all wrong ways as he scanned the area.

a smirk tugged at your lips as you followed him, sensing his unease. "you're jumpier than I expected for a witch hunter," you muttered under your breath, knowing he could hear.

he whipped around, "i'm not a witch hunter, i'm the witch hunter. the best there is. so watch it. witch." he spat back, quick to correct you.

rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. "if you were actually the best, you'd know curses don't stick like that."

"like i'd trust anythin' ya' say, witch. all yer people do is twist words to get what ya' want." he sneered, glaring back at you.

shaking your head, you brushed past him, challenging his intense stare. "believe what you will, hunter. and you better hope your strength is enough, for if we run into anything more than a curse here."

you jinxed it...

a low, guttural rumble vibrated through your body, a sound that sent a chill down your spine. and you spun around, searching for what that could've possibly come out of. your mind racing as you considered what kind of creature was watching you— a tiger? bear? something worse?

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed!

find the previous chapters in my masterlist!

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✟The Witch Hunter!

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©𝐵𝑙𝑢♡

»»————>𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/ BTR Book 2: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 7: Jeyce, Jeyce, Jeyce..

January 27th, 2025 4:57 PM

After a few moments, Jey made his way upstairs, his footsteps soft but deliberate as he approached their bedroom. He opened the door gently, finding her curled up on the floor beside their bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her face was buried in her hands, but her quiet, choked sobs were unmistakable.

Seeing her like this broke something in Jey’s heart. Without a word, he sank down beside her, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She tensed slightly at first, but then she let herself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his hold comforting yet bittersweet.

“Rhea…” he whispered, his voice tender as he brushed his hand along her back. “I’m here, baby.”

She sniffed, lifting her head to look at him, her eyes red and glistening with tears. “I—I just wanted to be there for him, Jey. I never wanted to replace his mom, but I wanted him to know… to know that I love him. But he hates me. He’ll never see me as… as family.”

Jey shook his head gently, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “He doesn’t hate you, Rhea. He’s just… confused, and he’s hurting. He doesn’t understand everything the way we do. Kids say things out of anger sometimes. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you.”

Rhea took a shaky breath, looking down. “It just… it hurt. Hearing that. I’ve been trying so hard, Jey. I know I’m not his real mom, but I thought… I thought we were okay.”

“We are okay,” Jey reassured her, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re part of this family, and you always will be. Jeyce is just going through something right now. But that’s why I’m gonna talk to Takecia about this when she gets here on Friday with Jaciyah. We’ll figure this out together.”

Rhea’s gaze softened as she looked up at him, a faint glimmer of hope breaking through her sadness. “You really think it’ll help?”

Jey nodded firmly. “I do. Takecia and I have been through a lot, and we both want what’s best for Jeyce. I think she’ll understand, and together we can show him that he doesn’t have to choose between us. You’re just as important in his life, Rhea, whether he realizes it right now or not.”

Rhea leaned into his shoulder, allowing herself to find comfort in his words. “Thank you, Jey… for always being here. For reminding me that I belong.”

Jey pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his hand gently rubbing her back. “I’ll always be here. I chose this life with you, Rhea, and that means through the hard parts too. We’re gonna get through this—together. You, me, Jeyce, Jaciyah… and our baby.”

Rhea’s lips trembled as she gave him a small, grateful smile. Hearing him say that made her heart swell, giving her a renewed sense of hope. Jey pulled her closer, holding her in silence, letting his presence reassure her, his words a steady promise that they’d find their way forward as a family.

In that moment, nestled in his arms, Rhea felt the weight on her heart lighten just a little. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but with Jey by her side, she felt like they could overcome anything together.

—

January 28th, 2025 12:09 PM

The next day at lunch, Jeyce sat alone at the table, picking at his sandwich in silence. Yesterday’s argument with his dad and his bonus mom lingered in his mind, leaving a heaviness he couldn’t shake. He’d made the sandwich himself that morning—just peanut butter and jelly, hastily slapped together—and now, even the thought of eating it felt exhausting. He let out a sigh, pushing the crust around with his thumb, his mind drifting back to his mom and dad’s disappointed faces. It was like a weight on his chest he couldn’t lift.

“Excuse me?” A soft, gentle voice broke through his thoughts.

Jeyce looked up, startled to see a girl standing in front of him. She was striking—a pale complexion that reminded him of the vampires he’d seen in movies, jet-black hair cascading down her shoulders, and a cool confidence that didn’t match the average middle-schooler. She wore a black “Motionless in White” band T-shirt, dark jeans, and black Vans. In her hand, she held a purple lunch bag covered with butterfly patterns, a surprisingly gentle touch amid her otherwise edgy style.

“Uh… yeah?” Jeyce stammered, unsure of how to respond.

The girl tilted her head slightly, a small, warm smile on her face. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure,” Jeyce replied, shrugging and motioning to the empty seat across from him.

She sat down gracefully, setting her lunch bag on the table and meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’m Demetria,” she introduced herself, her voice quiet but steady. “But I go by Demi. It’s less of a mouthful.”

“Jeyce,” he replied, feeling slightly self-conscious. He watched as she unpacked her lunch, noting the care with which she unwrapped a sandwich and placed a small container of cut fruit beside it. There was something intriguing about her, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Cool name,” she said, taking a small bite of her sandwich. “So… what brings you to the ‘loner lunch table’? Didn’t see you around here last week.”

Jeyce shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to reveal too much. “I just moved here and I don’t really have any friends. Plus my family is.. blended.”

Demi’s eyes softened, and she nodded as if she understood without needing any further explanation. “Family can be… complicated,” she said, her voice trailing off. She glanced down at her sandwich, her fingers tracing the edge of the bread. “I get it. My family’s kinda non-traditional too, I guess.”

Jeyce’s curiosity was piqued. “Non-traditional?”

Demi chuckled, a hint of irony in her smile. “Yeah. It’s just me and my dad now. He’s a tattoo artist, so people look at him and think he’s all scary, but he’s actually a giant softie. He’s intense, though, and people don’t always understand him.” She looked back up at Jeyce. “I guess it rubs off on me sometimes.”

Jeyce nodded, feeling a strange connection to her. “Yeah, my family’s kinda like that too. My dad’s… kind of a big deal, I guess. He’s a wrestler, so people think he’s all tough, but he’s actually really caring.”

Demi’s eyes widened, genuinely intrigued. “That’s actually really cool. So… does everyone treat you differently because of that?”

Jeyce shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sandwich. “Sometimes. People think I’m supposed to be just like him—tough and strong and all that. But… I don’t know. It’s not that easy.”

Demi nodded thoughtfully, as if she understood more than he expected her to. She looked down at her lunch bag, a small smile playing on her lips. “People are quick to assume things. They see what they want to see. Look at me,” she gestured to her dark outfit, the band T-shirt, the black jeans. “People think I’m all broody and dark just because of how I dress. But I like butterflies too, you know?” She pointed to her purple lunch bag, covered in small, colorful butterflies.

Jeyce chuckled, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time that day. “Yeah, I get that. People always want to put you in a box.”

“Exactly!” she replied, her eyes brightening. “They don’t even try to see who you really are. They think they already know.” She paused, her smile softening. “But I see you, Jeyce. You’re more than what people think.”

For a moment, Jeyce just stared at her, caught off guard by her words. It was like she saw right through him, like she could see the parts he tried so hard to hide. The weight in his chest didn’t feel as heavy, and the knot in his stomach loosened just a bit.

“Thanks, Demi,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She gave him a small smile, then took another bite of her sandwich.

Demi with a small smile playing on her lips as she put up her fruit cup. “So… do you take the bus to school?” she asked, her tone light and curious.

Jeyce nodded, feeling his heart rate pick up just a little. “Yeah, today was actually my first time taking it,” he replied. “My family and I, we live up by the New Canaan border in North Stamford.”

Demi’s eyes lit up. “No way! I live around there, too. Maybe we can sit together on the bus?” she offered, her gaze hopeful.

Jeyce tried to keep his composure, but he couldn’t help the small smile that slipped through. “Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he replied, trying to act nonchalant.

Demi grinned and tilted her head slightly. “Do you have a cell phone?”

Jeyce nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket. They quickly exchanged numbers, and he saved her name with a little purple butterfly emoji next to it, remembering her lunch bag.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Jeyce felt a wave of disappointment that their conversation had to end. But he looked at Demi with a confident smile. “I’ll text you in my next class.”

Demi returned his smile, a playful glint in her eyes. “I’ll be waiting.” With one last look, she stood up and walked toward her next class, leaving Jeyce feeling lighter than he had in days.

As he watched her go, he felt a small spark of hope ignite inside him. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up.

Jeyce settled into his seat at the back of the classroom, his heart racing with anticipation. He pulled out his phone and, after a moment of contemplation, typed, “So… are you a big Motionless in White fan?”

A few moments later, his phone buzzed with Demi’s reply. “Yes! My dad got me into them. What about you?”

Jeyce hesitated, feeling a twinge of uncertainty. He didn’t want to look out of place, but he also didn’t want to come off as fake. He typed back, “Yeah, for sure!”

But Demi wasn’t buying it. “You don’t have to lie,” she replied with a teasing tone.

Caught off guard, Jeyce sighed, “Okay, I lied. I don’t really know their music that well.” He could practically hear her laughter through the screen, and it made him chuckle too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put you on,” Demi responded, her enthusiasm evident even in text. “We can have a listening party or something!”

A smile crept across Jeyce’s face as he envisioned sitting with her, the two of them sharing music and laughter. He typed back, “That sounds awesome! I’d like that.”

“Sweet! I’ll make a playlist for you,” she replied, adding a smiley face emoji that made Jeyce’s stomach flutter.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the start of the next class, but Jeyce felt a warm glow inside him that lingered beyond the lunch hour. As he tucked his phone away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this day was about to turn around after all.

The teacher began the lesson, but Jeyce found it hard to concentrate. His mind kept drifting back to Demi and their budding friendship. He pictured them sitting together on the bus, sharing music, and maybe even sharing secrets. It was a welcome distraction from the tension at home.

Just as he settled into a daydream about their future conversations, his phone buzzed again under his desk. Stealing a quick glance, he saw another message from Demi: “Seriously, don’t stress about music! Just be yourself. We’ll have fun!”

Jeyce couldn’t help but grin, feeling a rush of gratitude for her easygoing nature. He typed back, “Thanks! I’ll try not to freak out. See you on the bus!”

As the teacher continued lecturing, Jeyce felt a new sense of hope stirring within him. This friendship and possible courtship with Demi might just be the change he needed.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day for those who rode the bus, Jeyce felt a rush of excitement. He practically sprinted to the waiting spot, heart pounding as he spotted Demi climbing onto the bus. He couldn’t help but grin as he made his way over, eager to join her.

Demi was already settled into a seat near the back, and she waved him over with an inviting smile. Jeyce hurriedly slid in next to her, feeling a mix of nerves and exhilaration.

“How about we take turns?” Demi suggested, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “You pick a song, and I’ll pick a song.”

Jeyce nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, that sounds cool!”

Demi handed him an AirPod and her phone, and he felt a little thrill at the casual intimacy of the moment. He scrolled through her YouTube library, trying to act casual but secretly searching for something that would impress her. After a moment of deliberation, he settled on Kanye West’s “Good Life.”

“Here, check this out!” Jeyce said, plugging in the AirPod and passing it back to her.

Demi grinned and put the AirPod in her ear, her head bobbing slightly to the beat as the song played. Jeyce watched her, captivated by the way she seemed to lose herself in the music.

“This is a classic!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine excitement. “I love Kanye! Great choice!”

Jeyce felt a surge of pride at her approval. “Thanks! I’ve heard it a few times. It’s one of those songs that just makes you feel good, you know?”

Demi nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! It’s all about living your best life.” She leaned back against the seat, tapping her fingers to the rhythm. “Okay, my turn next!”

As the song faded out, Jeyce felt a sense of anticipation. Demi scrolled through her playlist and finally settled on a song. “You’re gonna love this one! It’s by Motionless in White,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.

She played “Voices,” and Jeyce listened intently as the heavy instrumentals kicked in, instantly engulfing him in a darker vibe. He felt a little out of his element, but as Demi nodded her head to the music and sang along softly, he couldn’t help but appreciate the energy she brought.

“See? You’re already getting into it!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait until I show you some of their other songs. They’re amazing live!”

As the bus jolted forward, Jeyce leaned back, allowing himself to be swept up in the moment. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to Demi. With each song, their connection deepened, and the stress from the previous day faded into the background.

“So, what else do you like besides music?” Demi asked as the song played on.

Jeyce paused, thinking carefully. “I like video games a lot. And I’m into drawing too, though I’m not very good. I also started learning the piano because my dad plays. ” he admitted, a bit shyly.

Demi smiled encouragingly. “I love drawing! What do you like to draw? I actually play the piano too, I can help you.”

“Mostly superheroes and stuff. I’m really into comic books and no kidding, I would like for you to help me.” Jeyce confessed, feeling more at ease. “What about you?”

Demi’s eyes lit up. “I love horror movies! The scarier, the better! And I like to draw dark art—kind of creepy but cool stuff.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” Jeyce said, impressed. “I’d love to see some of it.”

“Definitely!” Demi replied, her excitement infectious. “And maybe we can do a drawing session sometime!”

Jeyce felt warmth spread through him at the idea. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As they continued sharing music and stories, Jeyce couldn’t help but feel like he had found a kindred spirit in Demi. The bus bounced along the road, but for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

As the bus rolled to a stop at the corner, Jeyce and Demi made their way off along with a few other kids. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter as everyone separated to head home. But Jeyce and Demi lingered by the street sign, a subtle tension hanging in the air between them.

Demi pointed to the south end of the street, her finger directing Jeyce’s gaze. “I live over there, in that brown house,” she said, a smile lighting up her face as she gestured towards a cozy, two-story home.

Jeyce looked in the direction she was pointing, nodding as he responded, “That’s cool! I live over here.” He pointed towards the gated property settled at the east end of the street, feeling a bit of pride in sharing his home with her.

Demi’s eyes widened with interest. “Wow, I’ve seen that place! It looks nice!”

“Thanks!” Jeyce replied, feeling a rush of warmth at her compliment. “You should come over sometime. We can play video games or draw.”

“I’d like that,” Demi said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I’ll wait for you here tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Jeyce agreed, a shy smile spreading across his face.

They stood there for a moment, both hesitant to break the moment. Finally, they exchanged awkward waves, their hearts racing as they felt the weight of their mutual crush. Jeyce watched as Demi turned to walk away, his mind buzzing with excitement.

“See you tomorrow!” he called out, watching her silhouette grow smaller as she headed toward her house.

“Bye!” she called back, her voice filled with a mix of eagerness and shyness.

As he turned to head home, Jeyce felt a giddy flutter in his stomach. The anticipation of seeing Demi again made the usual walk back to his house feel lighter. He couldn’t shake the feeling of happiness that had settled in since meeting her at lunch, and he found himself smiling, replaying their conversation in his mind.

Jeyce opened the front door and stepped inside, greeted by the inviting aroma of fried pork chops wafting through the air. He spotted his dad, Jey, and his bonus mom, Rhea, sitting together at the breakfast bar, their conversation lively and easy. But Jeyce felt a lump in his throat at the sight of them; the weight of yesterday’s argument with Jey still lingered in his mind. He didn’t want to deal with it now.

“Hey, how was school?” Jey called out, his tone casual and friendly.

“Fine,” Jeyce replied, not bothering to elaborate. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor as he walked past them, the heaviness of the moment urging him to retreat. Once he reached the sanctuary of his room, he closed the door firmly behind him and locked it, craving solitude.

Inside, Jeyce took a deep breath, trying to shake off the discomfort of the earlier tension. He pulled out his old sketchpad, flipping through the worn pages until he found a blank one. He set his pencil to the page and began to draw, his mind drifting to Demi. Inspired by her unique style, he envisioned her as a superhero vampire—strong, fierce, and with an air of mystery. It felt fitting; she was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he found himself captivated by the thought of her.

As he sketched, he got lost in the details: the way her hair would flow, the intensity in her eyes, and the sharp fangs peeking from a confident smile. The image of Demi began to take shape, her character radiating power and charm. He felt a rush of excitement, feeling closer to her with each stroke of his pencil.

Suddenly, he heard his dad call out, “Jeyce, dinner’s ready!”

Jeyce paused, glancing at the clock. He didn’t want to miss dinner but felt an overwhelming need to keep his emotions bottled up. He quickly finished the outline of Demi’s superhero form and decided to take a break.

With a sigh, he placed his pencil down and headed downstairs, trying to push aside his unease. He grabbed a plate from the counter, filling it with pork chops and a side of green beans. Jey and Rhea chatted about their day, their voices warm and inviting, but Jeyce couldn’t bring himself to join in. He felt like an outsider, a silent observer.

After grabbing a bottle of water, he made his way back upstairs without saying a word. The weight of their conversation felt too heavy to share, especially after everything that had happened. Once back in his room, he locked the door behind him again and sat on his bed, the food forgotten beside him.

With his sketchpad open in front of him, Jeyce felt a twinge of guilt for shutting out his family, but his thoughts quickly returned to Demi. He wanted to share the drawing with her, to show her how he saw her, how she made him feel. But for now, he let the world outside fade away, immersing himself in the fantasy of his art, determined to bring Demi’s superhero persona to life on the page.

He found comfort in his creativity, and the lines he drew became a bridge between reality and the burgeoning connection he felt with her. The shadows of yesterday slowly began to lift as he embraced the thrill of what tomorrow might bring.

—

Jey and Rhea sat at the dinner table, the sound of Jeyce’s footsteps fading as he retreated upstairs. They both sighed, sharing a silent, tired glance as they clasped hands for a quick prayer before starting their meal of fried pork chops, green beans, and a fresh side salad. The air between them was thick with concern.

Jey was the first to break the silence, poking at his salad as he spoke, “I really hope this is just a phase,” he muttered, the uncertainty in his voice betraying how much Jeyce’s recent behavior was weighing on him.

Rhea nodded slowly, her gaze drifting toward the staircase. “Me too,” she murmured, her brow furrowed. After a pause, she offered, “What if he’s… going through puberty?”

Jey stopped mid-bite, looking at her in mild alarm. “Puberty?” he echoed, almost as if he hadn’t considered it before. “You can’t… talk to him about that?” he asked, a note of hesitation creeping into his voice.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Really, Jey? You’re trying to hand that off to me?” she teased, though her eyes held a hint of exasperation. “Didn’t you have ‘the talk’ with Jaciyah?”

Jey gave an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Nah,” he admitted, looking almost sheepish. “I was on the road more back then, and his mom… well, she handled that part.”

Rhea let out an incredulous laugh, folding her arms as she shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re really planning on dodging this again?”

Jey shrugged, giving her a pleading look. “Babe, c’mon… you know you’re better with… words and stuff,” he said, trying to charm his way out of it with a sheepish grin.

Rhea just shook her head, though her expression softened as she reached across the table to place a comforting hand over his. “No way, mister. I love Jeyce but this is your time and he deserves to hear it from you. No passing the buck this time.”

Jey groaned, leaning back in his chair with a laugh that was half-exasperated, half-amused. “So you’re really making me bite the bullet, huh?”

Rhea nudged him gently, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yup! You’re doing it. And I don’t want to hear any complaints,” she said, though her tone was warm. “He needs to hear this from you, Jey. He looks up to you, even if he doesn’t show it right now.”

Jey sighed, finally nodding as he accepted his fate. “Alright, alright… guess I’ll be givin’ ‘the talk’ after all,” he muttered, his voice a mix of reluctance and determination. “But don’t be surprised if I call you in for backup if he has questions.”

Rhea chuckled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Deal,” she agreed, her tone softening. “You’ve got this, Jey. Just be real with him. He’s a good kid… even if he’s a little lost right now.”

They shared a small, understanding smile as they resumed their meal, the tension between them easing. As they cleared the table, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a team. For each other, and for Jeyce.

—

January 29th, 2025 7:11 AM.

Jeyce carefully placed his sketch of Demi into his binder, making sure not to smudge or bend it. It had taken him the better part of yesterday’s evening and this morning to get every detail just right, from her jet-black hair to the bold design of the superhero cape he’d imagined for her. The drawing was a tribute to the version of Demi he saw—a powerful, mysterious superhero with a vampire edge that fit her vibe perfectly.

Satisfied that the sketch was safe, he closed his binder, slid it into his backpack, and headed downstairs. His eyes lit up when he spotted a box of fresh donuts sitting on the kitchen counter. His dad must have picked them up on his way back from the gym. Jeyce grabbed a napkin, carefully picked out two donuts—one for him, and one he’d specifically chosen for Demi. He bolted out of the house, nearly forgetting to punch in the code to unlock the gate. The door buzzed open, and he slipped through, making sure it locked behind him.

As he jogged up the street, he spotted Demi waiting by the street post. She stood with her usual calm demeanor, her black backpack slung over one shoulder as she waited for the bus. The other kids around her seemed absorbed in their own little worlds, not paying her any attention.

“Good morning!” Jeyce greeted her with a bright smile, pulling the donut from his napkin and extending it to her. Demi’s eyes lit up as she took it, and a smile spread across her face.

“You picked me out the perfect donut,” she said, her voice soft and pleased. The chocolate-iced donut was covered in purple and green sprinkles, just like she would’ve chosen herself. She took a small, proud bite, and Jeyce watched as she savored it with a sheepish smile.

Jeyce grinned, biting into his own donut—a lemon-filled one he’d grown fond of over the years. They stood there together, sharing a quiet, happy moment as they ate their breakfast under the morning sky. By the time the school bus pulled up, they’d finished their donuts, brushing their hands off as they climbed aboard.

Once they found their seats, Jeyce felt a nervous excitement bubble up inside him. He turned to Demi, trying to keep his cool but unable to hold back his enthusiasm. “Hey, I, uh… I made something for you,” he said, reaching into his backpack.

Demi’s eyes lit up with curiosity as he pulled out his binder and carefully slipped the drawing out. He held it out to her, his hand slightly trembling. “I know it’s kinda silly, but… I made you a superhero. Like, a vampire superhero,” he explained, his cheeks already turning pink.

Demi took the drawing, her eyes widening as she looked at it. A grin spread across her face, her expression one of pure amazement. “Jeyce… this is incredible!” she whispered, her voice filled with genuine awe. She studied every detail—the sharp edges of her cape, the intense expression he’d drawn on her face, the little fangs peeking from her smile. “I look so… powerful!”

Without thinking, Demi leaned over and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Jeyce. I love it.”

Jeyce’s face turned bright red, his heart racing as he tried to keep his composure. He hadn’t expected her reaction, let alone the soft kiss she’d given him. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly as he stammered, “Y-you’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

Demi grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now I have to make something for you,” she promised, her voice full of excitement.

Jeyce’s blush deepened, but he couldn’t help the big grin on his face. “I’d like that,” he said softly, already looking forward to whatever Demi would come up with. As the bus rumbled down the road, they sat together, sharing excited glances, their morning made brighter by each other’s company and the unexpected promise of a friendship that felt like it was blossoming into something more.

—

Rhea, fresh from her shower after a morning run with the dogs, felt her stomach grumble as she made her way downstairs. The baby had already started developing a taste for all the wrong things, craving sweets and carbs that Rhea usually avoided. But today, she was happy to indulge. Jey had texted her during her run, letting her know he’d picked up some donuts on his way back from the gym, with a couple of special picks just for her and their little one growing inside her.

As she neared the kitchen, she couldn’t help but sing under her breath, “Donuts, donuts, donuts, baby wants donuts…” Her steps quickened in excitement as she approached the box on the counter. She lifted the lid, fully expecting to see her two donuts—a chocolate iced one with purple and green sprinkles for the baby and a lemon-filled one just for herself.

But instead, she found only Jey’s apple fritter and a lone glazed donut, likely meant for Jeyce. Her smile faded, replaced by a look of disbelief.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her hand still resting on the empty space where her donuts should’ve been.

Without wasting a second, she marched to the laundry room where she found Jey, casually folding towels, blissfully unaware of her growing annoyance. He looked up and grinned when he saw her.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, holding up a perfectly folded towel. “Everything alright?”

Rhea crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Where are my donuts, Jey?”

He chuckled, clearly thinking she was joking. “They’re on the counter, babe. Just like I said in the text.”

Rhea laughed, a short, exasperated sound, and shook her head. “No, they aren’t, Jey. There’s only your apple fritter and a glazed donut. Mine are nowhere to be found.”

Jey’s smile faltered as he processed her words. “Wait, what? Are you sure?”

Rhea’s eyes narrowed playfully, though her craving was making her patience wear thin. “Yes, Jey. I know what I’m talking about. The donuts you picked out for me and the baby are missing.”

Jey looked confused for a second, glancing toward the kitchen. And then, as the realization hit him, his eyes widened. “Oh, no…”

“What?” Rhea asked, crossing her arms a little tighter.

Jey rubbed the back of his neck, trying to stifle a laugh. “I think… Jeyce might’ve taken them. He could’ve grabbed them on his way out this morning.”

Rhea’s jaw dropped. “He took my donuts?” she said in a mock-horrified tone, though she couldn’t help the hint of a smile that was breaking through.

Jey held up his hands, a helpless grin spreading across his face. “Babe, I’m sure he didn’t mean to. Maybe he just thought they were extras.”

Rhea sighed dramatically, though the amusement was starting to win over her frustration. “Great. Our son is already stealing food from his pregnant bonus mom and his unborn sibling.”

Jey chuckled, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll get you more donuts. I’ll even get you a whole box just for you and the little one.”

Rhea let out a reluctant laugh, leaning into him as she gave in to his hug. “You’d better,” she teased, her stomach still grumbling in protest. “And this time, put a label on them that says, ‘Mom and Baby Only.’”

Jey laughed, giving her a quick peck on the forehead. “I got you, babe. Next time, Jeyce won’t even know they’re there.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

I Know You Didn't Sign On For This

Season Three Episode Five (Midseason finale)

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 5342

Series Masterlist

Summary: A killer returns in his efforts to torment Aaron. Forced to stay behind, the reader must grapple with the possibility of loss. 

Notes: To be fair… I did warn you. When I began this series, I realized that I’d have to do this episode because of the time frame I laid out and man, did it hurt to finally get here. This is a doozy, but I hope you guys like it. I actually had a really good time writing it (is that bad haha?) Also, I decided to split up this season so that I could work on part two while part one was posting. I’m hoping to have part two done by January. (fingers crossed) Thank you guys for all the love! 

-

After

You couldn’t look her in the eye, not without wanting to tear her apart. She pressed record. 

“Let’s start with why you were unofficially brought in to accompany the team in their pursuit of a dangerous fugitive.” 

“Don’t.” 

Strauss clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “Don’t what, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another civilian.” 

“You are not a federal agent and you did not have the clearance nor the authority to be on that search.” 

“The only safe place for me was with the team and you know it.” You wanted to scream, wanted to throw something, wanted to slap that high and mighty expression off of the section chief’s face. 

“We would have put you in protective custody,” Strauss reasoned. 

“And look how well that turned out,” you snapped back. 

She leaned back in her chair. 

You leaned forward. “And don’t you dare try to pin some protocol bull against Agent Hotchner because he told me exactly what you just did. But in the end, we both knew the only place Foyet couldn’t get me was with the BAU team.”

“With your fiance.” She watched you, analyzing every word, every tick. 

“I was stationed with Dr. Reid, yes.” You crossed your arms. “Since he had to stay out of the field due to his leg injury, he primarily remained at Kassmyer’s house where several officers were working the crime scene. I figured it was the best place for me to stay out of the way and to stay with the most people with guns in case Foyet changed his route.”

“But you didn’t expect him to do that,” she said, “did you?”

“No.” You swallowed, your hard exterior faltering for a moment. “I didn’t.”  

Strauss glanced down at the paper in front of her. “Can you describe your interactions with S.S.A Hotchner on the day of the incident?” 

You scoffed, smiling bitterly as you stood. “We’re done here.” 

“Miss Y/L/N, sit down.”

“As you so graciously pointed out, Agent Strauss-” You growled, gripping the edge of the table. “I am not one of your agents. So we’re done here.” 

She opened her mouth to argue. 

You grabbed the door handle. 

“If you have any more questions, you can call my damn lawyer.” You walked out of the room, slamming the door so hard you thought the glass would break. 

-

Before

You knew before the agents ran by your door that something was going on. Aaron had been more alert than usual, more insistent that you don’t stray too far from the BAU or your apartment. Spencer had been more attentive, making sure that you were sleeping alright and that you didn’t go anywhere alone. 

But it was when Emily checked in on you that you knew something was going on. 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“I wish I could tell you, Y/N, but we don’t know enough,” she said, hurrying away again. 

With each agent that went by, you started to put the pieces together. 

They found him. 

-

“Stay here.” 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

Aaron’s eyes blazed in a way that almost scared you. Almost. 

“I can’t sit in the office and wait for you guys to find him.” You crossed your arms, looking to Spencer for some help. 

“Y/N, the safest place for you-” Spence started. 

“Is with all of you.” You ran your fingers through your hair, not even realizing how much you were shaking. “Look, I have almost died in my own home, I’ve been attacked in my brother’s apartment, and I have been taken from a police station,” you snapped. “I am going with you.” 

“Anderson,” Aaron said. 

The agent came running. 

Hotch gave you a hard stare. “Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you snapped, taking a step to leave. 

Anderson stepped in your way. 

Aaron sighed. “Just… stay safe. I’ll have Garcia update you when she can.” 

“Aaron, please.” You tried again, but Anderson just gave you an apologetic look and stayed in place. “You can’t leave me here.”

He didn’t say anything else. Your brother turned and left, shoulders tense and fists clenched at his sides. 

Spencer gave you a small, awkward smile. “It’s safest for you to stay here. I don’t want to think what he would-” He shuddered. 

“Spencer, please let me come with you,” you pleaded, taking his hand. “Aaron can’t do this alone.”

“He won’t be alone.” Spence brought your hand to his lips. “We’re going to get Foyet, Y/N.”

“Not if he gets you first,” you muttered, blinking back angry, terrified tears. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering against your skin. “I love you.”

“Spence-”

“I’ll call you if I can.” 

Spencer hurried out before you could inevitably change his mind. Hotch was right. Protocols and everything aside, you would only be in more danger going after Foyet. Still, leaving that room made his heart hurt. 

You gritted your teeth to keep from screaming in frustration and fell back into Aaron’s chair. 

“We haven’t officially met.” Anderson cleared his throat and awkwardly stuck out his hand. 

You simply glared in return. 

-

Reid hated it. He hated leaving you behind, leaving you in the dark. The fear in your voice echoed through his head and made his chest feel tight. He’d left you just like he’d left you at the police station. You were right. Nowhere was safe. And he’d left you. 

“Reid,” Morgan’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. 

They were on the way to Arlington to find ‘Peter Rhea.’ Or, as Reid had figured out- The Reaper. Reid sat in the car, his knee bouncing anxiously while he stared out of the window. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Morgan looked at him through the rearview, Rossi in the passenger seat beside him. 

“Anderson’s sticking with Y/N at the BAU, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So she’s safe, kid,” he reassured him, turning into the parking lot of the building they were meeting at. 

“That’s what we said at Fairfax,” he muttered, using his crutch to help him out of the car. 

While they were getting set up, waiting to move in, you were pacing your office, watching for your guard dog outside. Anderson had been in and out all day, running to find information and to make calls that would help with the case. If you just waited for the right moment…

It felt like every inch of you was screaming. Like your barely healing scars were ready to burst open and bleed life right out of you. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if you could hold it all in. 

Spencer stood amongst the SWAT team and his team and wished he could do something. Even without his leg injury, his brain wasn’t any help. He could predict where Foyet would be, but that didn’t matter if they didn’t get there in time. 

Images from countless nightmares came flooding back to him. Pictures of Foyet’s knife piercing your stomach, slicing across your skin, his sick smile slick with your blood as you tried to speak through it. You, in the hospital bed, flatlining. The patchwork of your body after the doctors did the best they could to stitch you up.

What if he went after you again? 

You gulped down a glass of water with a shaking hand, a part of you still wishing it was something stronger. Anderson had gotten called away, something about Foyet not being at the apartment. 

Your phone rang. 

“Sam?” You answered. 

Why would the Marshall be calling you?

“Sam, what’s happened?”

“That’s cute. Was he going to be your handler too if you hadn’t been so stubborn?” 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Foyet.” 

“Hello, darling.” George Foyet grinned into the receiver. “You know, I’ve always regretted that we didn’t have more time together.” 

“Come get me and we will,” you snapped, already gathering your things. 

There was only one reason he’d have Sam Kassmeyer’s phone. 

“Ooo, so feisty. So fun. And yet so… been there, done that.” You heard an engine start. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up about the agenda for today. It’s so unfair that they’re making you miss out on all the fun.” 

“If you tell me where you’re going, I can join you.” You picked up your keys. “We’ll all have a great time.” 

Foyet clicked his tongue in scolding. “Now, Y/N, that would be cheating.” Wherever he was, he was pulling away from the sound of his car. Even if you got there in time, he’d be long gone. Just another chase. “Tell Aaron I send my love.” 

He hung up.

You tried to call Aaron, but he didn’t answer. He was either too busy or too pissed off at you to pick up. You didn’t have time to try and reach them through Garcia. If Foyet had been to Kassmeyers, then the agent was either dead or dying. 

“Goddamnit,” you exclaimed, almost throwing your phone across the room. Instead, you took a deep breath, pulled yourself together, and opened your door. Anderson was busy with a call, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip out. 

Foyet was going after Hailey and Jack, and he’d just found the perfect way to get to them.

You just hoped Aaron reached them first. 

-

Spencer spotted you first. With Hotch still with the US Marshall who was bleeding out on the floor, everyone could only stand by and watch. He’d just glanced out of the window when he saw you running up the sidewalk, your panicked face lit up by the blue and red lights of the approaching ambulance. 

“Uh, Hotch,” he said. 

Morgan and Prentiss both turned. 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Morgan said. 

“How did she know to come here?” Prentiss asked. 

Spencer opened the door, frowning. “Y/N, what are you-”

“Is Kessmeyer okay?” You asked through heavy breaths. “I got a call from Foyet from his phone, so I knew that he would be-” You pushed inside and saw the blood. “Oh god.”

The wall of agents kept you from getting too close. Spence put a hand on your arm. 

“You can’t be here.” 

“Did you say you got a call from Foyet?” Prentiss exclaimed. 

“What the hell is she doing here?” Aaron asked, not getting up from Sam’s side. 

You ignored him, nodding at Emily. “He called me from Sam’s phone. I have it in case I needed to-” You took a deep breath and looked away from the blood. “He wanted me to know what he was doing. He wanted to taunt me because he knew I was stuck at the BAU. I came here because I was worried Marshall Kessmeyer might be hurt.” 

The paramedics moved you all out of the way. 

“Gunshot wounds to each leg, one foot, he’s missing several fingers and appears to be badly beaten,” Reid told them without blinking. 

“Christ.” You ran a hand down your face, trying to see over the couch where the Marshall lay. 

The paramedics moved in. Aaron stood to let them work, Kassmeyer still trying to tell him something. He turned his burning gaze to you.

“I told you to stay.”

“And I tried to call you,” you fired back. “Foyet called me. He wanted me to know he knew where I was. He wanted me to know where he was going.” 

“You can’t be here,” he snapped, his cool fury more terrifying than any shout. “This is an active pursuit of a dangerous criminal. You cannot be here.”

Other officers were showing up, ready to treat the house as a crime scene. 

The paramedics wheeled Sam out. He tried to talk to Aaron through the blood in his mouth. 

Hotch clenched his jaw and took a breath. 

“Reid, stay here with Y/N. Make sure she does not try to follow us,” he ordered. He pointed at you as he went to follow Sam. “We will talk about this later.”

“Come back alive and you can yell at me all you want, Aaron.” 

He gave you a final glance and the anger in his gaze flickered soft for a moment, revealing the relief of seeing that you were alright. Aaron hurried out. 

You looked around at the group of agents, crossing your arms as a sudden chill ran over you. 

“He found them,” you said. “He found them and now-” You put a hand over your mouth to keep the cries back. 

Spencer pulled you into his arms without hesitating. You were tense against him, shaking from the effort of trying to hold yourself together. He rubbed your back in the way that always helped you calm down. 

“We’re going to find them first,” he whispered. 

Reid looked over your shoulder at the team. 

A darkness hung over all of them and no one looked at you. 

“I want him gone,” you said against his shoulder. 

“I know.”

“What if he’s already there? What if Hayley and Jack are already-”

“We have to assume they’re alive.” JJ stepped towards you. “Like any case.”

“But this is any case.” You moved away from all of them, closer to the door. “This is The Reaper. This is Foyet. The man who attacked the strongest person I know in his own apartment. The one who almost killed me. Nothing about this is like any case.” Your voice bordered on hysterical. 

JJ frowned. “I just meant that-”

“I can’t just stay here and wait for something to happen.” You reached for the doorknob. 

Spencer grabbed your hand. 

Logic returned to your system. 

His eyes pleaded with yours. “Stay with me.” 

You closed your eyes, took a breath, and let him pull you back to his side. 

“I’ll call the U.S. Marshalls, see what they can tell us,” JJ said. She stepped away to make the call, but the others just stood there, each of them trying to wrap their heads around what the hell was going on. 

Dave, who had been talking to one of the paramedics before Aaron left, put a hand on your shoulder. 

“We’ll find them, kid.”

You could only hope that he was right.

-

When Hotch called, he didn’t mention you. He needed to forget that you were there, to push him to the back of his mind so he wouldn’t turn around and handcuff you to his side so you could never be in harm's way again. Then again, it was with him that you’d been hurt so many times before. 

He hung up with the team and dialed a different number. 

Emily sighed, listening to Penelope. From the tech’s side of the call, there was a series of beeps. 

“What’s that?”

Somehow, you already knew. 

Penelope’s tone changed, flat with shock. “Hotch is calling Foyet.” 

You held Spencer’s hand tighter. 

“Damnit, Aaron.” 

The phone rang and you all listened. 

Foyet answered. “Agent Hotchner.” 

“If you touch her-” Aaron started, the fury and fear evident in his usually controlled tone. 

“Be gentle?” Foyet mocked. “Like I was with you?” He chuckled, the sound sending shivers up your spine. “Or your sister? Y/N seems well, by the way. Even though you’ve got her locked up in that ivory tower of yours. Such a pretty thing. A little old for me, but-” he clicked his tongue. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to pay her a visit one more time.” 

You tried not to show it, but it felt like your whole body had started to shake. Every word he said was like the knife slicing into you all over again. 

“What the hell took you so long?” Foyet asked. “I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something.” 

Aaron remained silent. 

Foyet noticed. “Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you’re frustrated.”

“Bastard,” you muttered, trying to keep your breathing steady. 

Spencer held you a little closer. 

“I’m not frustrated,” Hotch finally responded. “You’re more predictable than you think.” 

“Am I?”

“You didn’t know where Haley was so you made her come to you.” 

“You make me sound lazy.” 

“Just another way for you to show control.” 

What are you doing, Aaron? You wondered. You watched the reactions of everyone on the team, but they were all listening as intently as you were. 

“Oh that’s terrible,” Foyet said, his voice jeering. 

“Your mother tried to protect you from your father, but she wasn’t strong enough.”

“You make me sound like you’re sister,” Foyet snapped. It was barely perceptible, but you could hear the slight edge of frustration rising in him. “Or maybe just you.”

Aaron ignored him. “You hated her for that, didn’t you? You decided all women were weak.” 

“Those are your words, not mine.” 

Their words melded together in your mind as a different scene took over your thoughts. 

“She’s so pretty, Aaron. You didn’t tell me your sister was pretty,” Foyet said as he drove the knife into your side.

“Aaron…” You were losing consciousness from the hit you’d taken to the head, but you could take in every ounce of pain. 

Your brother laid across from you, his blood pooling on the carpet around him. If you could get The Reaper to focus on you, maybe Aaron would make it. 

“Is that…” You struggled to speak. “All you’ve got?”

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” The voice on the phone brought you back. “Haley looks pretty good with dark hair. She’s lost some weight. Must be all the stress you’ve caused her.” 

“Oh god,” you mouthed, bringing your hand up to keep from making a sound. Spencer held you close, but even he was still with shock and fear. 

“Where’s the little man?” Foyet wondered. “Oh, there he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?” 

A different phone began to ring. 

“That’s your wife,” Foyet said. “Hold please.” He answered the other line. “Mrs. Hotchner.”

“I’m here.”

“Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” 

“Okay.” 

Just the sound of her voice made you want to scream, to warn her. 

Aaron would make it in time. He had to. 

But you didn’t even know where they were. 

“Aaron,” Foyet spoke on the other phone again. “I really got to go.” 

The line went dead. 

Gate. Somewhere with a gate. 

You went rigid in Spencer’s arms, your eyes darting back and forth like you were reading something in front of you. 

“The gate.” 

Emily turned to you. “What?” 

“One time, in high school, I had to jump over the gate to sneak back in after going to some concert Aaron didn’t want me to go to. He said it was too exposed, too many drunk adults. I could get hurt. I, of course, didn’t care, and got beer spilled all over me. Haley caught me and smelled the beer. She said it would be our secret.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Derek asked. 

“The house. Foyet took them to the house, to Aaron and Haley’s house.” 

Morgan nodded. “He has to be in control. He wants to take over Hotch’s home.” 

The place that had once been your home would now be a warzone. 

“We have to go,” you said. 

Dave shook his head. “The best thing you can do for your brother is to stay safe and stay away.” 

“But-”

“Reid?”

“I’ll stay with her.” Spence kept his grip on your hand as the other members of the team rushed out of the house. 

You could have fought. You could have kicked and screamed and forced Spencer to let you go. But you had no weapon, no bulletproof vest, and no clue as to what you would do when you got there. If anything, you’d make it all worse. 

It was up to them now. 

Garcia called. 

“Where’s Y/N? Anderson said she left and I can’t find her anywhere in the BAU and-” Her shrill voice sent a pang of guilt through your chest. 

“I’m here, Penelope. I’m with Spencer. The others are going after Aaron.” 

“Oh thank god,” she sighed. “When I find you, I’m going to give you such a big hug and then I’m going to yell at you for scaring me.” 

“Keep us on with everyone,” Spence said. Something he’d later regret. 

Penelope paused. “Foyet’s calling Hotch.” 

Derek spoke from a different line, driving. “Garcia, can you get us on?” 

Aaron answered. “Foyet?”

But it wasn’t Foyet that spoke. 

“Aaron?” 

It was Haley. 

-

After

He sat across from you, hands clasped in his lap, waiting quietly for you to say something. 

Dr. Lance Sweets looked at the journal you’d placed on the table. He glanced back up at you. 

“Did you write about it?” He asked softly. 

You shook your head. 

Waiting for your permission, he picked up the journal to look at the last entry. 

“Why did you decide to bring it with you today, Y/N?” 

You met his eyes but he could tell you weren’t really looking at him. 

“I was hoping you could tell me how,” you said. 

“How what?”

“How I’m supposed to write about it?” You tried to keep your voice even, but every word felt broken. “How I’m supposed to wrap it all up in a neat little summary so I can get on with feeling better.”

“No one expects-”

“I know what everyone expects,” you snapped. “They expect me to grieve and to hurt and to fall apart. But I can’t do that. I can’t be the weak one anymore. Aaron needs me more than ever now so I need you to tell me how I’m supposed to get over listening to the person I called my sister die over the goddamn phone. Can you just help me do that?”

You didn’t realize you were shouting until you were forced to catch your breath. 

Dr. Sweets waited and set the journal Spencer gave you back on the table. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. 

“It’s okay.”

“No. It isn’t.” 

He took a breath, nodding. “You’re right. It isn’t.”

“I should have died,” you said suddenly. “Did I tell you that? The doctors said it was a miracle I survived, let alone without any major permanent damage.” You laid a hand where you knew the scar was. “Other than needing a new kidney.” 

“What makes you say you should have died?” Lance leaned forward. 

“Maybe if I had, he would have been satisfied, you know?” A tear slipped down your cheek. You didn’t stop it. “Maybe Foyet wouldn’t have kept going. Maybe-” You inhaled sharply. “But instead I-” I chose to come back. 

“George Foyet was a serial killer who wanted to hurt Agent Hotchner in any way he could,” Lance said. “He was never going to stop.”

“I know.” 

“There is nothing you could have done to stop him, Y/N.”

“I know.” Your voice cracked. 

Lance gave you a caring, supportive nod and leaned back again. 

“Then let’s start over, huh?”

You nodded, brought your knees to your chest, and broke down. 

-

Before

Everything stopped. If she had the phone that meant…

Spencer, realizing, reached to hang up. He stopped when you shot him a look that said ‘Don’t you dare.’

“You’re okay?” Haley sounded surprised and relieved. 

Aaron took a second to answer, his voice straining. “I’m fine.”

“But, he said that-” She stopped herself. The fear set in. “Oh, Aaron.” 

“He can hear us, right?” 

“Yes.” Her breathing shook. “I am so sorry.”

“Haley, show him no weakness, no fear.” 

“I know.” Haley calmed herself enough to keep it together. “Sam told me all about him.” She put together another piece. “Is he, um-”

“No, Sam is fine.” Aaron kept his hand on the wheel even as everything spun out of control. His heart pounded in his chest and it took every ounce of strength he had to keep his tone steady. 

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron,” Foyet scolded. “Is that why your marriage broke up, because you’re a liar.” 

“Don’t listen to him, Haley.” 

“I have Sam’s service phone right here.” 

You stared at the large blood stain on the carpet, unable to move. 

Foyet continued. “They sent out a mass text about his death. You can take a look if you want.”

You turned to Spencer. 

He cast his gaze to the ground and nodded. 

“He’s trying to scare you.” It was getting harder for Aaron to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

“Did you even tell her what this was about?” 

No. Aaron thought. Please no. 

“About the deal?” 

“He’s just trying to make you angry.” Aaron checked the street he was on. He wasn’t close enough. If he could just be faster…

“Well, she should be. She’s gonna…” Foyet paused. You could hear Jack playing in the background. “D-I-E because of your inflated ego.” 

You shook your head, muttering. “Don’t listen to him, Haley. Don’t.” 

“Ignore him, Haley,” Aaron said.

“I’m sure you don’t want her to know this part, either. You know, all he had to do was stop looking for me and you wouldn’t be in this mess?” Foyet mocked.

“Don’t react.” Aaron blinked back tears, feeling like his foot would break the gas pedal. 

“What is he talking about?” Haley asked. 

There was a long, painful silence. 

You gripped the back of the sofa like your life depended on it, numb tears making their way down your face. 

Spencer didn’t know what to do. With all of his training and knowledge and studies, he didn’t know what to do. 

“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Aaron finally said. 

“What?” 

“Tell Jack I need him working the case.”

You wracked your brain trying to understand what he meant, but you understood one thing. He knew how this was going to end.

Haley cleared her throat and forced a smile into her voice. “Jack, did you hear that?” 

The phone switched hands and the next voice made Aaron’s chest ache even more. 

“Hi, Daddy.”

Aaron’s voice finally cracked. “Hi, buddy.”

You punched the back of the couch and pushed away from it, starting to pace. If he touches that little boy…

“Is George a bad guy?” Jack asked, so sweet and innocent it made your tears fall harder. 

“Yes, he is.” Aaron composed himself. “Jack, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand? I need you to work the case with me.” He could only hope he would understand. That he would remember. 

“Okay, daddy.”

“Jack, hug your mom for me.” 

You finally put it together and froze. 

He knew how this was going to end. 

Spencer took a step toward you, but you stayed back, both of you listening to the silence of a son’s unknowing goodbye. 

“Mommy hug me too tight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t know how Haley was doing it. Maybe this is what it really meant to be a mother. 

“Why are you sad?” Jack asked. 

“Oh, I just love you so much.” 

“He has to make it in time,” you said, barely loud enough for Spencer to hear. “He has to get there. He-”

“Mommy, I gotta go. I’m working the case.”

Haley let go again. “Okay.” 

Small footsteps signaled Jack’s escape. 

“He’s so cute,” Foyet’s voice returned. “He’s like a little junior G-man. I’ll be right up, Jackie boy!” 

“You stay away from him,” you growled, though you knew he couldn’t hear you. 

Aaron could barely hold the steering wheel steady, he gripped it so tight. “Is he gone?” 

“Yes.” Haley fought her tears.

“You’re so strong, Haley,” Aaron said. “Stronger than I ever was.” 

You thought of every movie night she would put on to make you feel better, every nightmare she’d woken you up from. You thought of how she stood up to the press during your mother’s trial and wouldn’t let anyone near you. How she’d protected you like you were her own. 

Aaron remembered when she had Jack, how she held herself together even when he was a mess. He thought of her smile and her eyes and her voice, even as it shook now. 

“You’ll hurry, right?”

Aaron took a sharp breath, hiding his cries. “I know you didn’t sign on for this.” A tear finally escaped down his face. 

“Neither did you,” she said, resolved. 

“I’m sorry for everything.” He hated himself for saying it, as though it could fix anything. As if it could stop what was going to happen. 

Haley breathed in deeply and let it out, wondering if it would be her last. 

“Promise me you will tell him how we met,” she said. “And how you used to make me laugh.”

The tears flowed freely down his face now, but still, he drove. “Haley…”

“He needs to know that you weren’t always so serious, Aaron.”

You thought of the pictures she showed you every year for their anniversary. Pirates of Penzance. He looked so happy. 

“I want him to believe in love because it is the most important thing.” Her voice shook with the strain of keeping together. “But you need to show him.” 

Aaron could hardly muster a whisper now. “I promise.” 

More silence. 

Then…

One

Haley walking down the aisle, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

Two

Her beaming face as you walked across the stage at your graduation. 

Three

Haley’s exhausted, but utterly happy smile as she held Jack in her arms, looking up at Aaron with joy and so much love. 

The line went dead. 

Aaron threw the phone onto the dashboard, hoping it would break. 

And she was gone. 

You ran outside, but only made it to the lawn before you fell to your knees and were sick through your sobs. 

Spencer followed as fast as he could, kneeling down to hold you up.

“She can’t be- maybe she’s- please, she can't be-” You gulped through your words, unable to get enough words to say them. 

“Y/N,” Spence started, but he had nothing he could say. 

You stood on trembling legs and started for your car. “We have to go.”

“Y/N, we can’t.”

“You don’t understand.” You whirled around, your red eyes wild and desperate. “He’s going to kill him.”

And you weren’t sure who you meant.

-

After

Spencer had barely stopped the car before you were hurtling out of it, sprinting toward the surrounded house. 

“Y/N!” He called after you, but you didn’t listen. 

They wheeled a stretcher out of Aaron’s former home, carrying a body bag too big to have been your sister-in-law. 

“No,” you gasped. You ran harder, your lungs burning and your heart pounding. “Aaron!” A few of the first responders turned to you, but nobody looked for long. You screamed again. “Aaron!”

Dave found you, putting himself between you and the door. 

“Get out of my way.”

“Believe me, kid,” he said softly. “You don’t want to go in there.” 

“Where’s my brother? I need to find my brother. Aaron!” 

“Aunt Y/N,” a small voice called out to you. Jack waved from JJ’s arms, his young eyes blank and confused. 

You felt sick all over again. 

“Dave, please, where is he?” 

That’s when you saw him. His shirt was covered in blood and his face was cut, already starting to bruise. But he was alive. 

“Aaron!” You ducked around Dave and sprinted into your brother’s waiting arms. 

He didn’t even make it out of the doorway. The second he locked you in his embrace, Aaron felt his legs give out. You basically had to hold him up, his body shaking hard with sobs. 

“I couldn’t get here in time,” he cried into your shoulder. 

You didn’t say anything. You just clung to him as you both cried. 

After what felt like hours, Aaron pulled away. He held something in his fist and stared at his hand with a dark expression. 

“Y/N…” He spoke without expression. “I found this.” 

Any breath you had left your body as he opened his hand. 

It was your locket.

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @ jjunebug; @ xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx; @ lillianacristina; @ noodleboyluke; @ yokaimoon

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Misunderstanding (Penguin x reader)

A/N: I’m a sucker when it comes to Penguin and enemies to lovers kinda things. I hope you enjoy it like me while writing it. Happy birthday my lovely @penkura / @penkuramain

It was a boring and hot day, especially when you have cleaning duties with your crewmate Shachi. Since you joined, nearly 1 year ago, you never really talked much with Shachi. You were quite friendly with him, chatting casual stuff but nothing more. No personal things. It’s not like you wanted it this way. You were focusing on other things. Being the log keeper for the heart pirates, helping Law and the rest of the crew with everything you can or trying to impress a certain someone. You and Shachi were on deck, scrubbin the last dirt off the ship. You noticed that Shachi was glancing at you from time to time. Sometimes your eyes met and you smiled a little, but no one said a thing.

Shachi cleared his throat. “Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You looked at him, clearly confused as to what he wanted to know.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Ehm...I noticed that you are quite talkative when it comes to Penguin.”

You gripped on the broom in your hands tightly. What is he thinking? “This isn’t a question, you know?”

“Yeah you right ehmm… You know Penguin is my best friend and he is important to me. And you talk a lot with him about different things. I don’t wanna sound rude or something. I uhm…was just wondering..how should I put it?”

You looked at him with an annoyed groan. “I’m running out of patience, Shachi.”

He shrieked a little. “Ok, fine. Do you hate him or something? Penguin, I mean.”

You blinked your eyes a couple times. Did you hear correctly?

A soft smile was gracing your lips. “Not at all. I’m actually quite in love with him, to be honest.”

The red-head shook his head. “Wait, are you for real? But you pick on him and totally show off to piss him off.”

You couldn’t help but scratch your neck, as soon as you noticed the warm feeling in your face. “I’m actually trying to impress him somehow so he would notice me. But I guess this came out totally wrong.” You chuckled and your eyes showed Shachi a hint of sorrow. “No wonder he ignores me all the time when I try to talk to him nowadays. And about the other thing. My brain can’t comprehend when I’m talking to someone I find attractive. That’s why I always say stupid things.”

It was quite for a while and you both stare at each other. “S-Sorry I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. You were worried about your best friend. I can understand this. Don’t worry, oh and thank you. We make a great team.” You showed him a big grin which he returned.

With fast steps you entered the polar Tang again, as soon as you went through the door you noticed Penguin, standing or more hiding beside it. Even so you couldn’t see his face clearly you could see that his mimic was different than usual. Like he feels uncomfortable. You noticed that he was a little red on his face. Maybe he had a fever. You wanted to ask him, if he felt alright or if you could do something for him but you remembered Shachi’s words and shook this feeling off. So you decided to give him some space for now. With a smile you walked past him. “Hey Penguin. We just finished, Shachi is still outside.” And with that you left both of them.

Shachi was soon beside Penguin. He noticed his friend's behavior and the look on his face. “You overheard our conversation?” Shachi asked while patting the young man’s shoulder.

He gulped while hiding his face more under his signature hat. “Yeah. But is it really the truth? Y/N was pretty unfazed after seeing me.”

Shachi hummed in agreement. “Yeah you’re right. I’m not sure either. It’s hard for me to tell if she is actually telling the truth or not. We’re not close enough for me to figure it out.”

“Go on ahead, Shach. I need some fresh air.” It was time for him to cool down. Penguin wasn’t sure if it would be better if this turns out to be a lie or not. He didn’t wanna overhear it by accident and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

After a few days passed, no one showed any different reaction. The words and your smile after telling Shachi that you are in love with him, made his heart jump. It was an excited feeling and Penguin was still unsure about it. He tried to read you. He wanted to know if you were messing with both of him or not. No one was close enough with you and even so he didn’t wanna ask someone about this kinda thing. It was too personal and without your consent it was a no-go.

After dinner Penguin went out on deck, standing near the railing and enjoying the view and light breeze. A cough was heard and Penguin turned around. There you were, standing in front of him. You waved at him shyly and he waved back automatically.

With a grin you took a step towards him, at this moment he noticed that you were holding a spear in your hand.

“I thought about trying out different weapons. And I think a spear could fit my battle style.” You said and swung the spear, trying to impress him. Penguin couldn’t say anything. He was too stunned about the falling sun behind you, highlighting your body, your face and especially your smile in this radiant light. Your eyes were sparkling like stars.

You were quite happy that he was looking at you, not ignoring you or walking away. Until you slipped away and ended up falling flat on your face. A loud “bang” was heard and you couldn’t even lift your head properly. Your hands were covering your face. “G-Guess spears won’t fit my battle style. Hehe…he..” You groaned and tried to play it cool. But your voice was shivering and you felt like dying from embarrassment. “I’m not hurt by the way. I’m just…dying hopefully. Can I throw myself out in the ocean?” Your voice was getting quieter til it became a whisper.

Penguin had a mind blowing realization at this time. Y/N was right, you did tell the truth. He and Shachi thought that you would mess with him out of fun, but you really did try to impress him. He remembered every single time. The one where you cook their favorite dishes, telling them it was easy to make it. He felt kinda angry at this, but now he knows, you did tell it, to show that you were willing to do it for him and that no one needs to worry, that those dishes take a lot of time and preparation. Or the one time where you suggested doing cleaning duty alone. “I am super fast. I don’t need a helping hand.” You wanted him to have some free time or duty with Shachi, not showing off that you are better without him.

All those little things you did and said, wasn’t for him to feel bad and useless. You tried to reassure him, support him, giving you some gift of appreciation with it. You always had a smile on your face whenever you saw him. A bigger smile when you were talking to him.

You were happy seeing him, talking with him. Not because you made fun of him. As he was looking at you, he felt stupid that he took it the wrong way. Did it take that long for him to notice you? Seeing you? The real you? He remembered your radiant appearance just a few moments ago and couldn’t help but smile softly. Why did he never realize that your smile was so beautiful? He took a few steps towards you, closing the distance and holding a hand towards you for you to grab it.

“I’ll help you.” Penguin said and your hands moved away, you were looking at him with a pout and beautiful big eyes. “Thanks” You said softly and were holding his hand.

As he helped you up off the ground, he pulled you into a short and quick kiss.

After realizing what was happening, you couldn’t comprehend a sentence.

You tried to stutter some words but couldn’t help it. He still held your hand, chuckling. “Maybe we should talk. What do you think?”

He asked and for the first time ever you got a glimpse of his eyes. “Sure.”

[dawnoftime22]

Could you do Taylor Swift comforting the reader about like insecurities about their body or their like relationship or you could flip it around about the reader comforting Taylor idk love your writing and don’t feel any pressure at all for this!

I see right through me.

| T.S

Warnings: BIG TW; mentions and lots of talking of body insecurity / body dysmorphia, relationship insecurity / anxiety, talk of self hatred, crying. CW: mentions specifically of - hair, body hair, chin, hips, thighs, legs, stomach, nose. Roam at your own danger and take self care afterwards.

Small Other Warnings: Taylor helping R with braids, R hasn't gotten braids before, Taylor explaining how much she loves every part of R in detail

Summary: After a long day without Taylor, your mind runs heavily on all it could, having a cloud of anxiety looming over you. When Taylor notices, she reassures you softly.

Word Count: 6.8k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: mwah, please take care of yourselves<3 i love you all and big hugs to everyone

Request A/N: to whoever requested this, I'm so sorry this took so long and ended up being a long fic too, but I finished it eventually! I'm not good at choosing, so I decided I'll combine the insecurities, if thats okay with you! :] please know that I don't have much experience with body stuff, but I hope this puts some comfort into it and it was done well<3 thank you for your lovely request, and enjoy!

| Started on 26/08/2024, 8:23 PM |

| Finished on 03/11/2024, 4:58 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Requests are now OPEN!

read guidelines first please.

"The first step is to love yourself."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The running water echoes itself across the tiled walls of the bathroom, mixed in with the humming of the water heater. You felt the warmth, cascading down your body.

It was a quiet, pitch black night. The day was starting to settle down, and you had just gotten back home a few minutes ago. The bathroom only had you, alone, washing away the exhaustion thats been eating away at your muscles.

You breathed in the warm steam off the running water, feeling the thickness of the air when you exhaled it out. The mirrors and glasses of the bathroom were all fogged up in the cause of the steam.

You could see every single droplet in front of your eyes, running down your skin in clear detail, just because you were close to it.

All the physical sensations were working, but you didn't feel anything in your heart. Even as you let the water splash down upon your face, you couldn't. The day had just tired you out, and really, your feet were just terribly sore. You wanted to collapse into a ball like a curled up cat and that was it.

As your gaze moves down, the strands of your wet hair falls down with the gravity, but your eyes were set on the curve of your thigh from the upper view, not to mention the aspect of your stomach. The water droplets followed the shape of your body parts.

You tilted your head back up, and almost instantly, you couldn't help but feel that odd uneasiness under your chin. Of course. Your hand instinctively goes to brush under your jaw, finding the feel of the extra skin.

It was hard to resist, spacing out instead of cleaning yourself-- You shifted on your legs as your focus went to the bathroom tiles, unable to tear your eyes away. Honestly, you weren't even thinking of anything. Your mind was blank.

After a few more minutes of relishing in the dead blackout of your mind, you decide to ignore it and not linger on your thoughts either. Your hand reaches out to the side of the shower, finding the shower gel to grab and lather down your body.

Its a sinking feeling. Like being trapped in quicksand, slowly, unless you had something to pull yourself out with or hold onto, which you didn't. At least, not unless you speak up about the ongoing war inside your mind.

You rinse off all the suds, then turn off the shower, watching the water collapse down gracefully until you reach for your towel, drying yourself off and covering your body.

The drainhole was loud, drinking up all the remaining water that was going down. Your legs took you off to the door, the handle going down easily as you pulled with your hand.

When you went out the bathroom, the cool air of the bedroom hit you like a million pins and needles with the shiver down your spine. You almost wanted to retreat back to the steamed off room.

Beside you, where the window was, there was a quiet pitter patter. It certainly wasn't the shower since you had turned it off, but rather, the rain outside.

A small, nearly non audible sigh leaves your lips, and you turn to face the bed, seeing Taylor holding her guitar. She was sitting at the edge with her book in her lap.

She wasn't playing. But you guessed it was because she was writing lyrics down upon her page. You bit your lip, but went to your side of your bed, where your clothes were folded and awaiting.

When the blonde notices your presence returning from the bathroom, she gently turns her head over her shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat, starting to change its once slow pattern, and you couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or love.

She gives you a small smile before respectfully looking away to her notebook, pen in between her fingers, since you still only had a towel wrapped around you.

You let out a quiet breath of relief, but look down at your clothes in a disappointed feel you couldn't put a reason to, feeling any confidence grow smaller.

Shaking your head at the thought, you reach out, starting to unravel your towel to put your clothes on.

The fabric felt too comfortable. Or just not right. There wasn't an in-between. But once you slipped on Taylor's hoodie, it felt warm and cozy, like a sweet hug that embraces you, even as she was sat at the other side, doing her songwriting. It was okay, and just fine. You didn't want to interrupt her, anyway.

After you were all done with your outfit for bed, you turn to grab a hairbrush off the desk, eyes moving to the mirror as you go to gently straighten your strands in a line.

The water from your damp hair was starting to collect too much on the brush, even dripping off to the floor or any other grounds it could find. So, you decide to dry off your hair a little more using your towel, pressing it against the strands so it won't damage the work you've already done. It was a tedious task.

Your shirt now had a small patch of dampness, and it bothered you at how it stuck to your skin, but you manage to put it aside for now, ending up getting close to getting your hair just right. But not quite there yet.

Just as you were on the last part, there were a few bit of obvious strands that just didn't want to go down in the right way. It would either turn out too volumized looking, or not curving in the right way.

You sigh, settling with the stubborn piece of hair. It was time for bed anyway, so maybe by morning, it would either flatten, or turn out worse.

Either path it went, you just couldn't help but stare into the glass reflection of yourself. Your eyes stayed locked on your hair, your brain begging to go further, but your heart urging for the opposite.

Still, you swallow the lump in your throat and eventually look at your entire image. You were dressed now. Of course, its not as bothersome as it was in the bathroom, but you started to zone out once more.

You let your eyes roam, let your brain judge so as it pleases, more so, you hadn't even noticed that your breathing deepened the longer you stared.

The skin of your clenched hands brushes against the cotton material of Taylor's hoodie you wore. As much as it was warm and cozy, you stared at it, possibly long enough to even sink the entirety of yourself, if you had the possibility to possess that kind of power.

But this was the real world, and its ruthless, and you hated it. Yet, right now, it didn't even matter, because what you were fighting was only your own mind.

In fact, you had thought so hard, gone so far, to the point that you really didn't even deserve to be Taylor's lover. To be wearing her hoodie. Because, who were you to? You didn't feel attractive. Certainly not gorgeous. You felt too delicate, but in the way that flesh is compared to bones, not beautiful vases compared to steel.

Your shoulders slowly fell to a small slump as your thoughts raced, going on with your past mistakes and actions, all the negatives, and none of the positives. Taylor was always there for you, and all you thought you could do was simply give her your problems to deal with.

But during all your loud thoughts, Taylor was realizing how long it was taking you to get into bed. Her head turns to look at you once more, but this time, she sees you standing in front of the mirror, fully dressed, yet unmoving.

With your hairbrush in hand, she simply thought that perhaps you had just zoned out, but still, she pauses her songwriting, just for you.

"Baby?" she starts out. It was quiet...gentle, just to catch your attention. But you were too out of the present to hear. After a few more seconds, she gently puts down her guitar, facing up on the bed, before she goes over to you.

You felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, your heart jumping out a beat for a small moment, but you barely moved, letting out a breath of relief at the familiar warmth.

"Hey," Taylor whispers, resting herself against you and nuzzling into the back of your neck. You could feel your body relax, but not your inner criticism.

"You've been standing here for a while," she continues, her thumb alone, gently moving to caress your clothed stomach. The touch was there, but your jaw clenches as your eyes trail down to her hands. You couldn't see it with your shirt, and especially not with the hoodie on, but with your memory back in the shower, combined with the mindset you had, you could feel it, even just a little.

Taylor sensed something was wrong, but your lack of a response added even more concern to her mind.

She leans back and tilts her head, moving to rest her chin on your shoulder. You can feel the weight of her head, and it was different to the heaviness on your shoulders from before. It was comforting.

"...Sweetheart?" she calls softly, this time, just below your ear. Her gaze moves on to the mirror to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You soon get pulled back to reality when she lays a soft kiss, just behind your ear, making your eyes blink as you look at her. "Mm?" you hum, oblivious, nearly, that you were completely spaced out.

"Whats wrong?" she asks, her blue eyes finding yours in the reflection. Your gaze held a little fear, almost, recognizing that look of concern.

"Nothing..." the word murmured under your breath as you look down. It was an instinctive habit, to avoid even uttering a single thing about it.

Her concern grew, and her arms tighten around you. "Hey, don't..." a breath goes through her lips, and a gentle shake of her head goes by as she captures your gaze. "...don't do that."

"I'm...sorry, its just..." You moved your hands to cover your face. Your voice shrunk. It barely even pierced through the hum of the ceiling fan. Taylor bit her lip, her heart aching at the smallness you seemed to sound like.

"Baby..." she whispers, gently grasping your hips to turn you around. You could feel her hands, being so gentle, but the only thing you could focus on was something else, and you swallow.

"You can tell me anything..." she urged softly, finding your real eyes than just a reflection. Her hands stayed where they were, giving a gentle squeeze.

You took a breath in. "Its just this— stupid hair won't go down properly," you murmur, your hand going up to run through it, then try to flatten it, clearly fussing over it a little. The other problem you had earlier was swept away with a small excuse.

Taylor's eyes stayed on yours. She knew that wasn't the only reason, or the only thing your eye had trailed to focus on, but she sighs, and the corner of her lips ever so slightly raises, nonetheless.

"Let me help you, hm?" she offers, gently taking your hand down to rest at your side, her touch calming you. She then reaches for the brush in your other hand, starting to soothingly run it through your hair.

She had turned you back around and helps you style your hair to how it would usually look. She corrects the parting too so it wasn't zig-zagged, which was another thing you were struggling with.

She sends a small smile to you in the mirror, seeing the way you had less baby strands poking out, but even the ones she couldn't put down, made you look cute to her.

"Do you want a small braid?" she whispers, glancing at you with a hopeful look. You've seen it on her own hair many times, and you loved seeing how cute it looked, but still you look at her unsurely.

"I don't know..." you whisper slowly, your voice quiet as you answered. It was as if it was the only three words you knew thats not 'I love you'. You touch a small strand hair of yours. It was soft and less frizzy from the work of her brushing.

"I've never...done braids. And they look hard to do," you add. Taylor's expressions soften even more, if possible, and she gives you a small smile.

"Thats okay. I'll do just a small one, yeah?" She says softly, her other hand trailing down to your shoulder to let her thumb give a soothing touch.

The rain still pattered against the roof of the house, and the coldness of the room only increased, making a shiver go up your spine.

"There you go...all cozy for bed," she says, a smile raising onto her face as she lays a kiss to your neck. She then met your eyes in the mirror. Her expressions held adoration. But yours were questionable.

You stared at the reflection in front of you, and the more you stared, the more your mind grew louder. You touched the small braid she did, ever so gently. It was cute. But a sigh then comes from you.

"Its cute..." you say, yet it almost sounded like you had some missing words. She notices it, and your heart was racing as you looked at her. Of course, she knows the small doubt in your voice wasn't directed to her in any way, but rather, towards the way your mindset currently was. Her blue eyes searches your face, analyzing, trying to find even just a single sign of what she was thinking.

"Baby." She leans in closer. Her voice was quiet and soft, careful almost. You could feel her arms going to gently wrap around you, and she goes to nuzzle into your neck. The touch and warm embrace was comforting. It even made the freezing feeling fade.

The blonde takes in a gentle breath, then rested her chin on your shoulder once more. "Tell me..." she starts, eyes searching yours deftly.

"...Is something bothering you?" she whispers. You stiffened a little, knowing you can't really avoid it anymore, especially when you've already used an excuse to lead her off it.

"Its...you wouldn't..." You sighed, letting your teeth sank into your lower lips, which was where the skin was already battered from your past nibbling in the day.

She chooses to wait. To not push to the fear that you'd get overwhelmed, but upon the seconds that goes by, the two of you knew that you couldn't get your words out. They had gotten stuck in your throat like a careless curse.

Taylor then leans in closer, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror softly. "If you're saying I'll judge, baby, I won't." She whispers, her voice soft. But your heart ran even higher in anxiety.

You shook your head quickly at her suspicion. "No, I...of course not...you could never do that..." You whispered. The last few words of your sentence was instinctive. You didn't want her to worry, and especially not about herself when only your mind was at fault. She doesn't ask questions unless she needs to picklock your heart out of isolation. She doesn't push and overwhelm you, she just waits patiently.

You were brought back to reality when you felt her hand cupping your cheek. Taylor had taken some steps to be in front of you, wanting your full attention on her and to show that you have all of hers.

"Its just, this..." You couldn't say it. Your hand gestured slightly before you took a breath in, gathering your next words. The pounding against your ribcage was your heart, and it wasn't out of love— Especially not self love.

"I...hate myself..." the sentence was breathed out, the smallest bit of tears welling at the corner of your eyes, to which you quickly wiped away without a second sparing, as if a rule would be broken if you hadn't.

"Oh, baby..." Her shoulders go down slightly at your statement. After the anticipation of what was truly going on, now it was obvious. She had thought of your mind, what you might think of yourself, and how you always challenge if you could ever be put in the 'good person' range. You had a tiring day after all, so she could have easily thought you had done a 'mistake' you were lingering on. But when she looks into the mirror to meet your gaze, she sees the other fears in your eyes.

She's seen it before. Known it all too much. Its the same look shes had for herself before, and her heart was starting to crack at the thought of you going through the same.

You bit your lip, your teeth going deeper. You were finally breaking down, but in another way. "I...hate this body, I hate how...how much hair I have and...why—“

"Shh, shhh..." Taylor gently stops you, her hand going to brush against your cheek, then taking your own hand to bring you to the bed, sitting you down at the edge.

"I'm sorry," you whisper shakily, your voice watery. Taylor's face softens, and she closes your one hand she was holding with two of her own, giving you a forehead kiss.

Taylor could feel her heart stuck in her throat when you apologized, and she leans back, giving you a shake of her head. "Please...don't say sorry."

She cups your face, and she crouches down slightly. "Baby, you are...so...so beautiful," she starts, slowly and quietly, her tone careful, and her gaze holding softness.

"You don't ever need to apologize for your thoughts. No--...No matter how much your mind tries to be mean towards you." Taylor keeps her eyes on yours, searching its every part, from pupil to iris.

"Listen to me," she whispers. You swallowed the lump in your throat, giving a nod, but it was out of habit, not even missing a milisecond after the sentence that passed by her lips.

She repeats it again, making sure you're not lost on her. "I want you...to listen to me closely." Her eyebrows raise a little, hands going down to hold both of yours now. You could feel the warmth coming from hers, and it keeps your focus solely on her.

She takes a deep breath, preparing to dive into everything she could think of. "...I. Love. Every. Part of you," she says out loud, enunciating each of her words and giving your hand a squeeze. Your heart was already going emotional at the sentence, but you keep listening on intently.

She looks down at your intertwined hands, then gently undo your tangled fingers, resting it on your lap, palm up. "I love your hands. Okay? whether your fingers are small or long or bent, or-- Veiny?...I don't know. Even that small patch of hair, I love," she whispers sincerely, a small laugh escaping her.

She traces your fingers gently, eyes changing from adoring them, to going up to meet your eyes. Even the lines of your palm were traced until her hands slowly trail up to your arms.

"And your arms...you know why I love them...?" she questions softly, offering you an open answer, but you gently shook your head, and it only made her heart ache, but she continues. You were nearly confused, but you let her talk. Let her reassure you.

"Because these arms hold me. They hug me, they keep me warm. Your hands hold mine, and fits so perfectly...baby, gosh, even when you're creative with your art or anything, you do the most amazing things," she whispers softly, her hand caressing up and down soothingly.

She then moves down further, making sure to get every inch that you were ever insecure about, and where she noted in her head to put extra love and care to.

Her hands finally stop to the side of your waist. She looks up at you, making sure you were okay first before she lays a soft kiss right beside where her hands are, even if she's kissing the hem of your pants. "...Your hips are perfect just the way they are. I can always pull you closer, and I always think you look adorable when you walk, or when you run up to me whenever I get back home."

You took a deep inhale in, processing her words, trying to keep up with it all, even though she was going slow, right in pace for you. Or, actually, you were also trying to hold back the oncoming tears that were starting to tease the dam of your eyelids.

She smiles softly up at you. Oh, with her sweet smile. "I don't care if they're thick, or thin, or whatever the 'perfect size' should be...but you do things with them," she says, a slight sternness evident in her voice, but softness combined with it.

Her hand gently traces the hem of your shirt, keeping her gaze on yours and giving you enough time to pull away if needed.

When you didn't, she let her hands slowly go under your shirt, going to caress your belly. "This little stomach is cute. And its my favorite pillow, whether flat or more." She then leans in and lifts it just enough, to lay a soft kiss there, too.

"Every body part you have, has a use. Your legs hold your own body with all the strength they have and your heart beats for you. Thats beautiful," she states, holding no hesitance or doubt. You stared down at her, unable to form your words, almost.

"But I..." you start, about to protest, even if you knew it was wrong, but she had shushed you ever so gently, and your lips were turning down even more as you get hit by another loving arrow of hers.

Her hand slips back out from your shirt, going to your thighs, but staying above the fabric. "These...thighs...are perfect." She keeps her eyes locked on yours, her lips moving slowly. She gives a gentle reassuring squeeze to them, smiling up at you.

"And you know what? More space for me to grab onto when we're..." she trails off with that playful glint in her eyes. You gasp, while her hand gestures to a small pointless spin in the air before resting back on your leg.

"Baby!" You couldn't help the small giggle that escapes you when you gently land your hand on her shoulder, but too soft to be counted as a slap.

She giggles softly herself, unable to have not included at least the smallest joke so she could cheer you up, and see the blush raising on your cheeks.

You bit your lip. Taylor's giggle had soon faded down, but she still looks at you adoringly. "...What else?" you whisper, your heart craving for more than you'd like to admit, and because your mind still had slme demons she was determined to fight with care.

Still, her eyes almost brighten further at your willingness to hear her praises and her confessions of love to each one of your body parts.

She stands up and gazes, already having the one obvious thing your features had right in her mind. "Well, just look at that smile..." She says under her breath, hand reaching up to caress your cheek with the back of her index finger.

She sighs softly in contentment. "I love the way you look when you smile at me, or anything, because I can tell when you're happy."

Your eyes were shining with happiness, a small chuckle escaped in your breath. She smiles back at you, with just the same amount of love, if not more.

"Your lips are soft and kissable, and the same goes with your cheeks," she murmurs softly, leaning in to first tenderly kiss both your cheeks before she finally goes to plant one affectionate one upon your lips.

You melted into it, feeling her pair of soft lips, everything that you've ever dreamed of to feel. Sure, you've had it many times, but no matter how many, your heart still swoons dreamily.

She then slowly leans back, parting from the kiss, her eyes opening just slightly at first. She looks into your irisises, then her thumb goes to trace your lips, her blue eyes following.

"I wish you would stop tearing them..." she murmurs softly with a breath. You could feel the pad of her thumb against your lips, and she could feel the bump and dive of the injured skin.

"I can't help it," you mumble softly, your shoulders falling down slightly to a small slump. Taylor knew you had your anxieties and worries-- it was a coping habit you couldn't avoid even when you try.

Her expressions soften, a small smile raising on her lips. "And thats okay. I still love you, but baby, fidget with something, don't chew..." she whispers, leaning in to give it another small kiss before returning back.

"I'll try..." you whispered back, genuinely, and she could hear it for once. She gives you a soft reassuring smile before looking back to your face.

She sits in the silence for just a moment, relishing and letting you take a short breath. "Do you want me to continue?" she asks softly, searching your features. You give her a gentle nod.

"Okay...but first, cuddles, baby," she whispers softly, gently slipping her hand back into yours so she could guide you to go further on the bed, sitting at the pillows. Her legs were unmistakably starting to ache from standing all those minutes, but she gets more comfortable with you now.

The blonde sits back, watching as you settle close to her, snuggling in. She puts an arm around you, pulling you even closer with a sweet smile. You were all cuddled up.

She takes a deep breath in to then release first, almost as if she was preparing for a speech, or confession, but she runs her free hand off to your hair, playing mindlessly with the strands.

You adjusted yourself a little, shifting and tilting your head up a bit in a small movement. To others, it could seem normal, getting comfortable, or to keep their gaze on their lover, but you were already face to face with her. She knew. So, she gently looks at you, seeing the way you rested your hand just under your chin, covering up.

Taylor leans her head down a little, her hand that was in your hair, going to gently move your hand. "...Sweetheart...you know, when you smile, or do anything normal, I don't even notice anything abnormal about your chin. Even if I do, it adds to your charm," she whispers, tackling the fear. You look up at her, nearly wondering how she saw it, without you even saying anything, but you let out a shaky breath.

"But its so obvious sometimes...its...my double chin is horrid." you whisper softly, vulnerability shining through. She shakes her head gently towards your words.

"Have you ever looked at me, and focused badly specifically on that part...? Or just badly for your own?" she questions softly, her thumb gently rubbing against your cheek.

You stare at her for a moment, thinking about it. Its true. You hadn't done the same thing to anyone else, at least not as bad as the way you judged yourself for it.

But you stay quiet, at most, snuggling closer to her and burrowing your face into her chest, arm going around her.

She understood you needed the comfort, finding solace in her embrace. So, her arm tightens around you and she leans down to nuzzle into your hair. She leaves a kiss along with it, too.

You took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling it out. She could feel the raise of air and its escape out your lungs as you stay in her embrace.

You could feel the hesitation that was starting to build up in Taylor's mind. You knew it, with how heart was slow at first, but starting to up its speed the longer she thought about her decision.

"I'm not finished, you know..." she whispers softly near your ear. You could just barely see a glimpse of her sheepish smile in the corner of your vision.

A small smile raises on your face and a giggle shakes against your ribcage, traveling over to hers. "Oh, gosh..." you breathe out, but then relax. You knew Taylor had her worries too, waiting for an opening for her to go. "You can...continue, baby..." you whisper softly, encouraging her to talk again.

She lets out a breath of relief, her arms tightening around you. Then, she leans back, moving back your hair from your face slightly. You never liked it when people did that. But it was bedtime, and Taylor always made you comfortable when she did it. Just for her to see all of your face.

She smiles softly. "...I love your eyes...and the way they admire me," she starts slowly, once again, leaning closer, almost teasingly and playfully looking with her own eyes.

You nearly entered a staring contest. But you smiled, blinking before it could even initiate, and she giggles. She didn't know why. Maybe because she was expecting a staring contest, or due to her own playfulness, but she didn't need a reason to laugh, anyway.

"The way they crinkle every time you smile is so cute," she whispers under her breath, complimenting softly without a single doubt in any space of her wording.

Your curiosity sparks further, eyebrows raising slightly in expectancy of what was next in line. Her heart melted at your gaze, seeing the small excitement you had like you were a child.

"And I love how your eyebrows show every expression I could ever decipher and...and just look at, whether angry or sad...or happy, and god, so in love with me," she says, nearly rambling on. You giggle softly, noticing how she raised and clenched her hands slightly; as if trying to stop herself from squeezing you from cuteness overload.

She took a deep breath in, releasing out of contentment. She gets herself together, then continued. "...That nose," she whispers, her eyes set on it.

"I can boop it all the time, and its adorable," she murmurs, her hand indeed going up to boop with her finger. You scrunch your nose, your lips curling up into a wide smile. "Especially when you...that!" she points to it, her heart full of joy as she definitely meant your scrunched nose.

You laughed, feeling her leaning down to nuzzle ever so gently against your nose, sharing a sweet eskimo kiss. You could feel the softness of it and the sweet gesture it was.

Her finger traces each part of your face, going along your jaw too, her touch feather light, but making itself known.

"Its normal, baby. Having different things to everybody else...its what makes you, you," she states, leaning back to let you look at her properly, and her arms returning to embrace you.

A small sympathetic smile raises on her lips. "When you don't think you're...gorgeous, beautiful, or...anything otherwise of what you would think when you look at the sunset..." she whispers, trailing off and pausing. But you wait. You keep your eyes on her and don't falter by zoning off to the wall or elsewhere just for once.

"Just, please, remember that this brain of yours"-- she gently taps at the side of your head, then looked back to your eyes. --"isn't truthful to how others could see you," she whispered truthfully.

"And I think so many people can look at you and say you are...breathtakingly gorgeous," she admitted, her smile growing wider. You sniffled slightly, feeling the prickle of your eyes.

"Me, for example. And I'll tell you it every day, with how much I love you. I don't care, whether you're tired from work, or during bedtime like this, or during messy haired mornings and cozy hang outs..." she continued, wanting you to know, to remember, and take note of this moment, that she would always be here to love you and care for you through it all.

"I love your eyes. I love your lips. I love your eyebrows and your face. I love your legs. I love your cute tummy. I love your hips...and I love your body." You finally end up breaking entirely at that, your heart caving in to the feelings its been holding back the entire time.

A small soft sob escapes your lips, unwillingly, but quiet. Taylor cradles the back of your head and pulls you in closer, closing her eyes. "Shh...its okay..."

Her thumb soothingly moved against your hair, and she nuzzles into it once more, letting you cry softly, soak her skin and shirt in however many tears you needed to release.

Even her legs come into contact, gently moving to wrap around yours, her foot caressing against yours reassuringly. It was comforting, having both soothing moments on your upper body and lower.

"It does worry me; how much you can't see yourself like I do in my eyes...but I know you're trying your best, and I...I hope that every time you can't handle your own thoughts or can't turn it around to the positive ones, you can talk to me," she whispers softly near your ear, her voice barely even going through the air.

"Okay? Tell me something when it happens," she added, leaning back, making sure you look into her eyes, seeing the way yours were watery, and your cheeks were covered in the sheen of your tears.

She smiles emotionally, her own expressions affected by yours. "Anything, and I'll jump to love you."

Your breath hitches from the crying, but you nod. "Thank you...Tay," you whispered back, but your voice broke in the middle of it. She only leans back, giving you a soft kiss, even if she could taste the saltiness of your tears. It only added to the moment.

"I...I didn't wanna...burden you, or anything," you whispered shakily, sniffling back into her chest. That sentence caught the rest of her mind's attention, and she looks down further at you, her eyebrows furrowing.

That was on another topic. Her expressions turn even more concerned, knowing how much anxiety your head can hold, but the way it was being loud in combination with your thoughts of yourself made her heart break.

"Baby," she whispers softly.

Your heart skips a beat, but you ever slightly peek out her chest, still crying a little, but subsiding.

You could see the concern etched on her face, the small frown on her lips. "You could never do that. Not with me, ever..." she gently shook her head.

"Its just..." you took a shaky breath in, then bit your lower lip, holding back the tears before it comes down once again as fast as the water in the shower was earlier.

"I-I'm sorry...this is just...another thing to bother you with," you whispered, your hand tightening on her shirt. Her face softens now, searching your expressions.

"No. No, you don't bother me, and especially not right now..." she says, her voice firm, but gentle.

Your lip trembles, and your eyes don't meet hers. "I worry." The words were let out in your breath. If her heart was glass, she was sure the cracks could be heard. It was time for your self worth and other anxieties to show through, but she wanted you to talk to her about it.

"About...?" she asks gently, setting you to explain slowly, but not wanting you to back away from the discussion.

You let out a breath through your already parted lips. "What if you get tired of me?" you whispered out, your body nearly shrinking against her and the bed in a small retreat of regret at your own words.

She breathes out a soft gentle sigh, and the quietness that came afterwards only tugged at your heart even more, made your mind reel in all the bad thoughts further.

She was actually simply gathering her thoughts. But before she could even utter a word, you speak up once more. "I...what if the next morning I wake up, you're gone?"

She swallows the lump in her throat, and let her own tears escape now, easily going down her cheeks. You hated making her cry. "Baby..." she whispers.

She shook her head insistently, then cupped your cheeks gently to make sure you look at her. "Baby, I would never leave you. And I wouldn't get tired of you up to that point. Ever."

"Please don't be so hard on yourself, sweetheart," she says, stifling a small sob, but then hugs you even closer, tighter.

"I'm sorry..." you manage to say, realizing you had probably turned the reassuring moment into a mess of crying and emotions just because of your head.

"No, no, shhh...its okay...I'm worried about you. Don't blame yourself, baby," she murmurs, giving a kiss to your head, sniffling.

"I'm just--...letting out my own emotions..." her own voice was shaky, and she even let a small chuckle escape her sentence. Your hearts were sharing their emotions. You felt guilty, but then you felt the way she took a deep breath.

She leans down a little, too, her thumb wiping away your tears as she gives a gentle nod, encouraging you to follow the breathing.

You were nearly crying even more, just because you couldn't believe the care she had, the love. But you followed. You followed until you both calmed down. A deep breath in with the nose, feeling your lungs fill with air, then out through your lips, the cool air leaving.

She rests her forehead against yours, the small tear droplets on your noses having ended up mixed together.

But still, she continues. "Everyone in this world deserves some type of love. Small or big. Especially you," she said, looking deeply into your eyes, her breaths still hitching here and there, and her voice trembled, but she managed.

"And you," you whisper back. She breathes a single laugh through her nose, smiling at your added words, but nod.

"I think...you are the most sweetest person ever. Okay? All of those 'faults'? 'Mistakes'? Just throw them out the window, baby," she whispers, going a little more lighthearted.

The blonde leans in even closer, aiming to lay a kiss to your forehead. "You need to love yourself..." she murmured against your skin, and then leaving a kiss to your eyebrow.

"Its just, I've done so many things, and I don't understand...h-how you can love me sometimes," you whispered softly, and she wills herself to say her next words, giving a kiss to the edge of your eyes.

"Because I just love you for who you are despite what you think are your faults, and I think you should do that for yourself too," she whispers, her voice sincere in all the right ways.

"All your 'bad things you've done' doesn't...justify that you're a bad person completely." She then lays a kiss to the bridge of your nose and the tip of it.

She sniffles, taking a small breath. "...and it certainly doesn't outweigh all the good things you've done." A kiss to then, your cheeks, and finally...your lips.

The last of your tears escape, and you return the kiss back to her with just as much affection and love.

She sighs contentedly, staying in it for a moment more, pouring her love before she gently broke the kiss, leaning back. "Lets get some rest in now, okay?" she whispers.

You nod gently, moving to wipe away your tears, your hand getting covered by it, but then you also wipe away hers, making her smile softly.

"I'll be right here," she reassures softly. Her hands go to pull up the covers to warm your bodies up before she returns back to a comfortable position.

"I love you," you whispered softly, not breaking your gaze from her. She could see the love in your eyes, and all the parts of her heart that had broken from your worries earlier were being picked up already.

"I love you, too..." she replies back, just as softly, nuzzling into you again.

You let out a breath of relief, and buried your face into the crook of her neck, feeling the fuzzy comforting feeling. "G'night..."

She lets her own breath escape, cuddling more against you. "Night..."

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

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[sequinsmile-x]

Wealthy

Emily finds out she's pregnant, and she wants to tell Aaron as part of his birthday present. All she has to do first, is make sure it's still a secret by the end of the day.

-x-

Hi besties,

Here is Aaron's slightly belated birthday fic!!

It is a variation of a theme I wrote a long time ago, but with a completely different approach (IYKYK) <3

Humour is so hard to write, so I really hope you enjoy this!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 3.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles at the sound of her family’s laughter coming from downstairs, Aaron and Jack’s matching laughs mixing in with Élodie’s giggle. She can picture her husband making breakfast, their two-year-old on his hip and Jack next to them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he diligently helps his father pour out the dry ingredients for pancakes.  

There were times when she still couldn’t believe that this was her life. That she had a husband and two kids. A boy she loved as her own who called her Mom and a little girl with her smile and Aaron’s eyes. Her home not the house she had bought with her trust fund, but the people who lived in it.  A family she’d built from the rubble of her old life, her days now filled with a type of happiness she’d spent most of her life convincing herself wasn’t real. The stuff of books and movies and fairytales made for little kids to help them sleep at night in a world that was big and scary. But it was real. She found it in Aaron’s smile, in the way he loved her so deeply and without condition. It was in Jack’s laughter, the innocence and hope in his eyes that he’d managed to keep despite everything he went through so young. It was in Élodie’s fearlessness, in her love for life and the way she would press her face against Emily’s neck when she fell asleep.

She blows out a breath as the timer on her phone blares out in the bathroom, and she quickly turns it off. She gives herself a moment before she looks down, a laugh turning into a gasp as as covers her mouth to capture it. 

Happiness was in the positive pregnancy test she was holding in her hands. 

They’d been trying again ever since Élodie turned one. It had taken longer this time, each negative test stealing a bit of her hope that she’d get to do this again. That she’d get to have a third child, feel another one of her babies grow beneath her skin and bring them into the world. Usually, Aaron would be right on the other side of the door, ready to come in and comfort her or celebrate with her, but today was different for two reasons. 

Firstly, this time she was sure she was pregnant. She was exhausted, her boobs hurt, she needed to pee all the time and all of a sudden she felt like a bloodhound - coffee, hot sauce and anything with a strong smell enough to make her gag the moment she noticed them. 

The second reason was that it was Aaron’s birthday. 

She hadn’t told him her suspicions partially because she didn’t want to let him down again. She knew he hid his disappointment from her each month, all of his concentration on her and her feelings, his own sadness pressed into kisses he’d drop against the top of her head as she threw away another negative test. 

She also just really wanted to surprise him. 

A part of her that she couldn’t ignore, a part that was an old romantic, had come back to life when she first kissed Aaron. It had been laying dormant for a long time, pushed down into the recesses of her chest to a place she thought it would never escape from, but he brought it out of her. Made her want to do silly, cheesy, things like find an adorable way to tell her husband that he was going to be a father again. It was even more important to her since she hadn’t had the chance to do it with Élodie. They’d found out she existed by mistake, a simple check-up in a hospital in a town Emily had forgotten the name of after an unsub got a little rough with her during his arrest. Aaron had insisted she went to the hospital, something he’d claimed was the right call when the doctor confirmed she had a concussion, and she agreed because she could never so no when he looked at her with worry shining in his eyes.

She knew she’d never forget the look on the doctor’s face when he casually mentioned her pregnancy, clearly unaware they didn’t know until she and Aaron looked at him like he’d grown two heads. 

As much as she loved that part of their story, she wanted it to be different this time. She wanted to tell him herself, to see the joy take over his face and as the realisation set in, his dimples carved out in his cheeks before he pulled her into a tight hug. 

She wanted the stuff of movies and books and fairytales. 

She chuckles as she looks down at the test again and she slips it back into the box and then her purse, not wanting Aaron to accidentally come across it whilst she was at work. She wipes a tear from her cheek and then presses her hand onto her belly, rubbing her thumb back and forth just below her belly button.

“Well, you have excellent timing baby,” she says blowing out a breath, knowing she had to somehow get it together before she went downstairs. Aaron may have retired when Élodie was born, but he was still a damn good profiler, and she didn’t want him to see that something had changed the moment he looked at her. She had a plan that involved telling him when she got home from work when Jack and Élodie were in bed and it was just the two of them, “I love you so much already, and Daddy does too. Even if he doesn’t know about you yet.” 

She looks at herself once in the mirror, makes sure her makeup hasn’t slipped down her cheeks along with her happy tears, and she grabs her purse from the counter and heads downstairs. 

She smiles as she walks into the kitchen, holding her breath for a moment when the smell of coffee overwhelms her, swallowing thickly against the bile that attempts to rise up her throat. She’d distracted from the nausea when Jack runs over and wraps his arms around her. 

“Morning, kiddo,” she says, hugging him back and ruffling his hair, “Did you sleep okay?”

He nods, leaning against her for a second, “Did you sleep okay, Mom?” 

His kindness, the way he cared for others, never failed to amaze her. He never failed to make her proud to be his mom, “I slept just fine, baby.” 

“Mama!” Élodie calls out from Aaron’s arms, apparently bored of not being the centre of her mother’s attention. Emily smiles and squeezes Jack before she steps away, her arms open wide to her daughter. 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, taking her from Aaron and kissing her forehead before she leans in to kiss her husband, smiling when she tastes pancake batter on his lips, “And happy birthday to the birthday boy,” she says, stamping her lips against his again. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his hand seeking out her hip, “Do you want birthday pancakes before you head to work?” 

She smiles to cover the way her stomach lurches at the thought, and she shakes her head, “I don’t think I’ll have time, honey,” she says, “I’m sorry I have to work on your birthday-”

“Em, you don’t have to apologise,” he says, cutting her off, his smile soft and full of love, “I used to do the job, remember? I get it.” 

She’d taken over as Unit Chief when he retired, her cumulative experience in the BAU and her time at Interpol enough to make her more than qualified. She’d struggled with the idea of it at first, sure Aaron would have a problem with her literally replacing him, but he’d been nothing but supportive. 

“I’ll be home for dinner, okay?” She promises, knowing it was one she could keep because Penelope had assured her there would be no cases until after Aaron’s birthday, a statement she had chosen to not question any further, sure that plausible deniability would help her if needed. 

“Okay,” he says, kissing her again before he steps back, allowing her a moment to say goodbye to Élodie before he takes her back, “Okay Mini Hotch’s,” he says, smiling when Emily rolls her eyes at the nickname the team had assigned the kids, “Let’s eat breakfast,” he turns to Jack and smiles, “And then it’s time to get ready for school, buddy.” 

Jack nods and starts to plate up his breakfast, and Emily smiles at Aaron, “I’ll see you later, at lunchtime?”

“See you later, sweetheart. Love you.” 

She smiles and steps out of the kitchen, “I love you too.” ___

The team were acting strangely. 

She noticed the moment she arrived. They were looking at her and whispering when they thought she wasn’t paying attention, and the moment they knew she was paying attention they were acting like Élodie and Jack when they were caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Looking up at the ceiling and pretending she couldn’t see them. 

It comes to a head during the team meeting. Her ever-present nausea, the ache in her boobs and her sudden aversion to everything with milk in it, meaning she couldn’t have her favourite tea, was making her aggravated, so she does the one thing she never does with her team. With her friends. 

She loses her patience. 

“Okay,” she says, cutting Derek off as he throws another weird look at her as he’s discussing a case, and she throws her pen down on the round table, “What’s going on?” 

They all go wide-eyed, their matching expressions something that would make her laugh if they weren’t pissing her off so much. They look at each other and Dave clears his throat, nominating himself as the group’s spokesperson. 

“Why do you think something is going on?” 

She glares at him and narrows her eyes, “You’re all acting like we’re in high school and there’s a rumour about me you’re all discussing,” she says, knowing she’s on to something the moment Penelope avoids eye contact with her, “So will someone please tell me what is going on so we can go back to being adults with important jobs, not teenagers with nothing better to do.” 

The team all look at each other again and JJ sighs, her hands clasped on the table in front of her as she leans forward, “We…we know you’re pregnant.” 

Whatever Emily thought they were going to say, it wasn’t that. Her mouth falls open a few times as she tries to figure out what to say, at a loss for words until she finally chokes out a response, “What?” 

“We know you’re pregnant,” JJ repeats, “Em, I am so sorry-”

“How…how the hell do you all know?” She asks, looking back and forth between them all, “I only found out a couple of hours ago. The pregnancy test is still in my purse.” 

Derek screws up his face, “You peed on something and then put it in your purse?” He asks, his disgust turning into something close to fear when she glares at him, “Not the point, I know.” 

She blows out a slow breath, “How do you all know?” 

The room falls into silence for a moment before Dave pipes up, “Derek told me.” 

“Well JJ told me,” Derek says, immediately trying to take himself out of the line of fire, making JJ scoff and throw her pen at him. 

“Penelope told me,” she says, raising her eyebrow at the other women, “Only minutes after she found out by the way.” 

Emily turns to look at Penelope and raises her eyebrow, “Pen…”

“Reid told me!” She says, blurting it out, surprising everyone else in the room except her and the man in question, all of them now looking at her like she had lost her mind before they turn to look at Spencer, their heads tilted in curiosity. 

“I might live to regret this question,” Emily says, her irritation tampered down by shock, “But how the hell did you know I was pregnant?” 

Spencer, his eyes wide like he was a deer in headlights, swallows thickly, “I don’t know if I want to answer.” 

“Spencer,” she says, her tone a warning that she usually uses on the kids, and he nods clearing his throat. 

“Your period was late.” 

For the second time in a few minutes, she finds herself speechless, “I knew I’d regret asking,” she murmurs to herself, rubbing her temple. 

“How the hell do you know that, boy genius?” Derek asks, “Little creepy.” 

“It’s a pattern,” he exclaims, his hands up to defend himself, “I’m good at recognising them, and she hasn’t had milk in her tea for days, just like when she was having Élodie, and-”

“I think we’ve all heard enough,” Emily says, stopping him from going any further. She sighs and shakes her head, “Look, Aaron doesn’t know yet. And I’m telling him later so for your sake,” she says, addressing them all, “You’d better hope one of you doesn’t tell him.” 

“We’re not going to see him before you tell him, ” Derek assures her and she rolls her eyes. 

“He and Él are coming to get me for lunch because it’s his birthday.” 

They all go wide-eyed again, and this time she sees the humour in it, barely hiding her smile as JJ nods, “We’ll make sure we’re out of the way when he gets here,” she says, and she turns to Spencer, “Do you track all of our menstrual cycles?” 

Dave leans over and pats Spencer on the shoulder, “As someone who’s worked in law enforcement since before you were born, kid - my advice on this is to plead the fifth.”

___

She’s grateful that by the time she’s home for the evening, Aaron is none the wiser. The team kept their promise a little too well and entirely avoided him when he came in to meet her for lunch. If he thought it was strange he didn’t say anything, happy to be having lunch with his wife and his little girl on his birthday. 

As soon as Emily was home they ordered dinner, and after they ate she sat and watched Aaron open his gifts, smiling as Élodie sat in her lap. Clapping her tiny hands as Aaron made a big deal of the hand-made cards from her and Jack. Once he’d opened all of his gifts from Emily and the kids, bar the one still in her purse, they put the kids to bed. They divide and conquer - something she knows will be harder when they add a third kid to their family - and she paces Élodie’s room with the toddler in her arms until she falls asleep. She takes a moment to breathe her in, to acknowledge that the countdown is now on until Élodie is no longer the baby of the family, and she lays her down in her bed. 

“Good night, sweet girl,” she says, kissing her forehead, “Mama loves you.” 

She sneaks out of the room and pauses, smiling when she hears Aaron downstairs. She pops into Jack’s room, kisses him on the forehead and adjusts the covers around him before she heads downstairs, nerves tingling under her skin as she grabs her purse and pulls the small gift bag out of it, the pregnancy test from that morning safely tucked inside of it. 

“Honey,” she calls out, “Where are you?” 

“In the living room,” he calls back and she follows his voice, smiling when she finds him sitting on the couch, her gaze drawn towards the two glasses of champagne on the table, the bubbles distracting her for a moment before Aaron clears his throat, “Is that for me?” 

She looks down at the bag in her hands and she nods, joining him on the couch, her knees knocking against his as she gets as close as she can, “Yeah, it is,” she says as she hands it over, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain her smile, “I wanted to wait until the kids were in bed.” 

He smiles and opens the bag, pushing aside the tissue paper, “I’m glad,” he says dryly, raising his wrist as he raises his eyebrow at her, “I was starting to think that the Rolex was going to be my only gift…” he drifts off when he pulls out the pregnancy test, his words caught in his throat as he looks down at the digital screen. He looks back up at her, his eyes shining, “Em…”

“I took the test this morning,” she says, swallowing thickly, “I had a feeling and I was right.” 

“We’re having another baby?” He asks, and she nods, a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh caught in her throat. 

“Yeah, we’re having another baby,” she says, and he pulls her into a hug, his arms tight around her, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing the top of her head and then her lips as he pulls back, “This is the best birthday present ever.” 

She chuckles, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she rests her forehead against his, “Even better than the Rolex?” 

“Better than a dozen Rolexs,” he says, kissing her again before he reaches for the glasses on the coffee table, “Here you go, we should celebrate.” 

She smiles and clinks her glass against his, taking a sip before she thinks about it. She realises what she’s done the moment she drinks it, but frowns when she tastes apple cider, not champagne. She swallows it and frowns at her husband, narrowing her eyes at the obvious attempt to hide a smile, “Wait, this is apple cider.” 

He clears his throat and takes a sip, “Yes. It is.” 

She stares at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out what his smirk means, but then it clicks, and she gasps as she lightly hits his chest, “You knew I was pregnant?” 

He nods, reaching out for her hand when she tries to slap his chest again and lifts it to kiss her knuckles, “Yes. But-”

“How did you know? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You’ve been exhausted lately, you can barely stand the smell of coffee and this morning you went green over the mention of pancakes,” he says, kissing her knuckles again before he lets their joint hands fall to his lap, “And I didn’t tell you because I knew how important it was to you to tell me.” 

She shakes her head at him lovingly and leans in to kiss him, “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner,” she says, kissing him again, “The best actually,” she leans against him and lets herself enjoy the moment, takes it and sits in it before she furrows her brow and looks up at him, “This means I was the last to know that I’m pregnant.” 

He smiles and then it slips into a frown, his brows furrowing together, “Wait, what do you mean you were the last to know?” 

[abbyslvrrr]

Fade into you pt.2

Boxer!sevika x topside!reader

Finally done part 2! (it literally took me a whole month) I kept losing motivation to write BUT I FINALLY FINISHED TODAY!! Hope y’all like it! (I don’t think I’ll continue this tbh) I feel like this kinda sucks ass can’t lie.

WC: 1167

The following day, you couldn't stop thinking about Sevika and the interaction you had with her. The way she got so close to you, the way she looked as she was sitting there and smoking her cigarette. Ugh, you needed to stop thinking of her seriously! Are you actually considering going back? She told you she had a fight next week and you were off next week. 

"Just stop it!” You knew your parents would freak out if they ever found out you went to the undercity, let alone thinking about going back there, but why was the thought of not seeing Sevika making you feel so down? As the next week started approaching, you finally made your decision to go and see Sevika again; you couldn't shake her out of your head. The problem was, you didn't want to tell Sam about it, but you also didn't know your way around the undercity. God, this was going to be a mission. 

You decide to wear something cute this time around—a long-sleeve low-cut shirt and a cute black skirt. For shoes, you went with black combat boots. You do your hair and makeup, grabbing your phone and bag ready to head out, when all of a sudden your mother walks in. 

“Where do you think you're going, young lady?” She questioned you. Shit, what would you say?

"Um, im going to Sams, yeah. She's having a little girls night!” praying that she believed you, sometimes it blew your mind that as an adult your mother was still so stuck with you. You actually hated it, but you didn't say anything about it. Your mother nodded her head.

"Okay, be safe honey. Text me when you get home, okay?” she said as she hugged you and left you be. You sighed and went out. You kind of felt bad for lying to your mother, but it was whatever at this point. Stepping out of your house, you try your best to remember the way Sam took you, and you find yourself where she took you last time. 

As you walk your way over to the fighting ring, you can't help but feel eyes all on you. ‘Of course they'd stare; you literally look like you're from the topside.’ you say to yourself. You get there and see Sevika already in the ring fighting her opponent. You manage to get yours close enough to see her. 

The guy she is fighting is like 2x bigger than her, and yet she's so unfazed by it. He lands a hit on Sevika and knocks her back, but only for a second because she's right back and hits him back so hard he goes flying back. There's a small break that was called; Sevika looks into the crowd and manages to spot you. She thought you were so easily spottable; you see her and smile at her. You see the blood on her face, probably a bloody nose. She sends a wink your way, and you swear you passed out there. After the break, Sevika and the guy were at it again. He goes to hit him, but Sevika has him figured out this time and blocks his punch, and she knocks him to the ground; he stays there, probably passed out. 

Sevika is declared winner once again, and everyone goes crazy like last week. Sevika motions to the back, where the little room is. You make your way through the busy crowd and step into the room.

“You came, doll.” Her voice boomed; god, her voice was like fucking music to your ears. Why is she making you feel this way? You could listen to her voice all day.

"Yeah, I did come back; I don’t really know why.” Suddenly, your shoes became the most interesting thing in the world. A part of you wanted to get to know Sevika, possibly befriend her, maybe something more. But knowing that Sevika was from the undercity and a boxer, you knew it could never happen. Feeling a warm hand grab your chin gently and lift it up broke you out of your little trance. You are met with Sevika's eyes; god, you could get lost in those eyes of hers. She leans in a bit closer.

"Oh, you know why, doll, don't play stupid with me. You wanted to come see me; that's why you're here.” You hated how right she was. She pulled away from you and backed away. 

“Lets celebrate my win doll." She opened the door for you, and you walked out. The bar was crowded, and so was the dance floor; you felt a bit nervous about this not really being your scene. She grabbed your hand and dragged you to a table where a couple other guys were seated. She pulled you to that table sitting down; you sat beside her. 

Everyone looked a bit intimidating to you. Someone approaches the table and hands Sevika a drink; of course they would know what she liked. She fights here and celebrates here. Sevika chugs down her drink before looking at you. 

“So what do you usually drink? Something fancy?” The truth was you never really drank; when you did drink, it was just a small bit of wine or a little champagne. You didn't even know if you should drink anything tonight; I mean, how would you even go home? 

"Oh, I usually have a bit of wine, but I don't think I'll drink tonight.” You explain to her; she lets out a small chuckle. God,  she was perfect. No! You can't be thinking of her like that. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I figured as much; I don't think you'd find the best kind around here.” Sevika says as she starts on her second drink of the night. Hours go by and you have amazing conversations with Sevika; she tells you all about the undercity, and you tell her about Piltover. You knew that conditions down in the undercity were not great at all, and she was so passionate talking about her place here. You admired that about her. Hours pass, and before you know it, the time is 2330 and you have to leave. Sevika offers to take you at least halfway. 

Staying close to Sevika, you two begin the journey back. As you get closer and closer to where you need to go, Sevika asks you a question. “Would you want to come down again next week? "Uh, don’t have a fight, so we can maybe just spend the day together.” 

You put a hand on her bicep, smiling up at her, “Of course, Sevika. I’ll see you here again next week.” She pulls her phone out and gives it to you, typing in your number and saving it into her phone. You reach up and give Sevika a kiss on her cheek. “See you sev!" With that, you run off.

Sevika makes it her goal to get with you no matter what.

 

[sanccharine]

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer. 

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled. 

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest. 

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?” 

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.” 

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her. 

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her. 

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!” 

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished. 

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ” 

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N. 

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again. 

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.” 

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her. 

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?” 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo. 

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her. 

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?” 

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.  

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.” 

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small. 

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh. 

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.” 

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did. 

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons. 

It was a seemingly unharmful statement. 

Well, no. 

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it. 

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion. 

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you. 

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened. 

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching. 

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas… 

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled. 

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first. 

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you. 

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace. 

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly. 

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time. 

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…” 

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks. 

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.” 

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.” 

You spoke slower so the words sunk in. 

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.” 

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it. 

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you. 

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time. 

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good. 

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again. 

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“ 

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it. 

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.” 

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move. 

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.” 

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.” 

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.” 

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that. 

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.  

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight. 

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

[neege]

Lesbian Wolfstar Prom AU!!

Part III

Part I | Part II

Part III!! Finally some substance!!! And an explanation of who the hell Emma Pierce is lol. I just read the lesbian wolfstar au that @werewolfenthusiast just posted and it inspired me to update this since it's been sitting in my drafts hehe. I hope you like it!! Remus is struggling in this one, again...

Oh also I learned how to add a cut!!! Part III below 🥰

Remus had always known to an extent that she wasn't particularly interested in boys, at least not in the way that other girls her age seemed to be. Being homeschooled until she was 14, she didn't really interact with any kids her age, and after spending a year at her new fancy private school, she still didn't have a good understand of what her peers were going on about in regard to the sweaty, annoying boys in their year.

So yeah, she already knew she didn't care to be swept up behind the science building with a strong senior football player so he could shove his tongue down her throat—which honestly... does anyone actually want that??—but it wasn't until a sleepover with Lily Evans, winter break of Sophomore year that things... clicked for Remus. She still remembers the fluttery feeling in her stomach, watching Kate Winslet kiss Leo while Lily braided her hair, and she still isn't sure if it was Kate herself or the feeling of another girl's fingers carding so gently through her curls, but she understood herself a bit better that night.

She never watched Titanic again, and she packed that knowledge away in a private little box shoved to the back of her head, locked and not to be opened until she was maybe 30. Or 40. 

And then she became friends with James and Peter.

And Sirius.

The four of them became fast friends—inseparable at all times—god, she loved them all so much.

But Sirius was different.

It was so hard to understand how Remus felt while being around Sirius. She had always been the most beautiful person in any room, maybe in the world, but although it did not go unnoticed by Remus by any means, there was always something else that just... stood out.

She was so smart and quick and funny in a cool, cutting way that no one else their age was. She was top of the class without trying and she was passionate and she made boys cry. She was captivating. And Remus was drawn to her in a way she's never been before.

And then she showed up to the first day of school with a new hair cut and the entire school whispering behind her back—did you hear? Black's a lesbian now—striding confidently up to their typical lunch spot, and Remus knew: she was in so much trouble. 

From that day forward, all she could think about was Sirius. 

Sirius's laugh.

Sirius's eyes. 

Sirius's long fingers and what they might possibly be able to do... 

It was torture.

But she also couldn't help but feel like maybe there could be something there, Remus and Sirius had always been something else—something different than the soul-bond that James and Sirius had, and something much more than her friendly but strained relationship with Pete, even something unique from the friendships Sirius shared with other girls their year. 

They were different, Remus was so sure.

And just when she was starting to come around to the idea of maybe trying her hand at flirting—for the first time!—James decided it would be a grand idea to discuss Sirius's taste in girls.

It was something that he'd apparently been trying to push with Sirius since she'd come out to them all—he seemed to be under the impression that talking about the girls Sirius might like would make everyone, but especially Sirius, feel more comfortable in their friendships. Remus wasn't sure. She kinda thought that maybe they shouldn't know so much about each other.

Unless it's me she likes. I wouldn't mind knowing that.

It had been a failing endeavor for about 2 months, with Sirius refusing to speak about the subject unless it was to crack a joke about Lily, which James was not very amused by. 

And then one early November school day, it happened. 

"Come on Sirius, we all know you have a type! You're so damn particular about everything else, how could you not!" 

"Shut up, dumbass!" Sirius was leaned back in her plastic school chair, balancing on the back two legs in a way that arched her back and pulled at her shirt to reveal her bellybutton—which Remus was decidedly not looking at.

"Just because you're always drooling after every red head you see doesn't suddenly mean everyone likes the same type of girl. Besides, girls aren't just separated into types like that, they're not movie genres." Remus felt good about this answer. It was smart, like everything else Sirius said. 

"Okay fine! Then just tell me who you like—" 

"Jesus Christ James we've been over this! I don't like anyone, this isn't middle school!"

"Fuck off, I don't believe you at all! You're always so defensive about it whenever I ask, there's gotta be someone here that you like. There's like a million girls at this school—" "Not true." "—there has to be one that you at least think is hot. Just tell me, and I'll drop it." 

Sirius sighed in response and pinched the bridge of her nose with her long fingers, which again, Remus wasn't looking at. She was, however, listening very carefully for Sirius's answer while badly pretending to complete the assignment that had been given to them fifteen minutes ago. She'd answered two out of twenty-five questions so far. 

"If I tell you, you can't make it a whole thing okay?" "I can't promise that at all, but I won't ask again for the rest of the day!"

Sirius squinted at him for a moment before responding, "Deal." 

She sat forward, smacking the chair fully back to all-fours before leaning her elbows on the edge of the desk. She looked around the small classroom, and Remus couldn't help but follow her gaze—what was she looking for? Was there some kind of secret... thing? Some secret power that slowed her gaze long enough to be noticed? Remus wanted it, whatever it was.

Finally, Sirius leaned forward even more, until her voice could be heard quietly as she declared: "Emma Pierce is pretty hot." 

Emma. Emma Pierce. 

Varsity Cheerleader with the long, smooth blonde hair and beautiful curves that Remus has heard Pete grossly wax poetic about on many occasions. 

That Emma Pierce.

James let out a long whistle and clapped Sirius on the back—Remus noticed the pale-pink tint developing on her lovely cheeks and it made her stomach lurch.

"Damn Sirius. I was right, you would go for the hottest girl in school—" "Lily, James?" "—excluding my beautiful Lily of course. Nice! you should make a move, see where it leads!"

Sirius let out a short, loud laugh and shoved James away roughly. "I'm not going for anyone, dipshit. I just think she's pretty, she's got that long hair and... yeah I'm not talking about this anymore, actually!" She stood up as the bell rang and began collecting her things. "Someone wake up Pete, I think he drooled on his assignment." 

Remus sat, stunned, and thought about her own frizzy brown hair. The color of dirt. 

It at least used to be long, down to her waist even, but Remus had decided to chop it all off as a show of solidarity with Sirius this year. Her mom had cried when she cut it. She'd wanted it to look edgy and cool, kind of like the short, mullet-y style hair Sirius sported now, but it looked more like she was the young mom of a two year old with a baby on the way. The frizzy curls now just touched under her jawline, and when Sirius had first seen it, she had ruffled the curls aggressively with a beaming smile. It was amazing.

"Moons, you alright?" Sirius broke her out of her reverie, and was looking at her with wide, concerned steel-grey eyes. 

Her eyelashes are so long. 

"Yeah... m'fine Pads." 

Oh my god, I'm so fucked.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello!! Hola! I wanted to tell you that reading your stories is often the best part of my day, I don't know what cauldron of writing magic you fell into when you were a child, but honestly I'm glad you did 😄 I also wanted to request a Donna story: when Ethan goes to Donna's house, instead of k*lling her and Angie, he only stabs and hurts her really bad, because reader saves her from him. Reader wasn't in a relationship with Donna yet, but she was secretly already infatuated with Donna and would've done anything to save her life. Reader then helps Donna throughout her painful recovery, healing her multiple physical wounds and also the emotional ones. They end up getting together ❤️ Thank you so much!!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for you compliments, and for your request, the cauldron part made me laugh hard xD! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

About to lose you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, mentions of blood, I've literally stabbed the canon, but I don't care...

Word count: 7,696

Summary: You can't lose her, you just can't...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Oh, you're back,” you said with a kind smile, seeing that your lady had returned from the meeting.

Of course, you didn't know if there was a smile behind that black veil, or if the lady in black was looking at you or listening, but you didn't care. You were already used to sensing her expressions, even trying to guess them.

“Mm,” she murmured, turning her head and nodding slightly as she passed by you.

The always enigmatic attitude of Lady Beneviento had been stirring your feelings for longer than you would like to admit, but, like everything, you also got used to those nerves, to that slight blush on your cheeks. You hoped she wouldn't notice how obvious your behavior was.

You had been working in the mansion as a maid for several months now, but for you it had been just a sigh.

You were an ordinary girl in a not-so-ordinary village. Maid, wife or hermit, you didn't have many more options either. Escaping from that place, from the control of Mother Miranda, the Lords, and the Black Gods was something completely impossible and you knew it. Maybe a few years ago you considered taking a risk and trying to escape from that constant darkness, but it was only a fleeting thought.

You only had one life, you only had one chance to breathe, to live the best way you could, it would be absurd to end it all, run away and die, or worse, end up turned into one of the creatures that protect the place.

Completely convinced that you wouldn’t give your life to a loveless marriage, and without enough strength or skill to grow food or care for animals, being a maid was your best option for survival.

The question was: Maid for whom?

Everyone in the village knew that in the castle there was always room for girls like you, always. That was a truth, a disturbing fact. Many of your friends never returned from that place, those who did, never recovered. Risking working in the castle would be like risking leaving the village.

You only had one option, something that no one had dared to do, approach through the forest to the mansion that seemed abandoned, test the rumors that said no one returned from that place, and offer yourself to be a maid for the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

Lord, yes, adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, too, but a truly strange woman. Few people had been lucky, or unlucky enough to see that black shadow walking, perhaps at masses.

A woman covered by a black veil, always accompanied by a sinister living doll, a quiet, mysterious, dangerous woman... that was her.

No one knew many things about her, and the ones that were known weren’t exactly good. Daughter of a noble family, descendant of one of the founders of the village, Donna Beneviento was barely a shadow of what they once really were. Her family disappeared due to madness, she stayed.

The Black Gods saw something in her important enough to take pity on that young lady, and let her live forever, wrapped in the arms of the supreme priestess.

Her story was tragic, sad and unfair, but as you walked to the mansion, you tried to forget about it. You would work as a maid. It didn't matter too much for whom.

The lady was wary of you at first, or so her withdrawn attitude and the teasing of the Angie doll told you, but finally, she accepted.

You became the only maid who lived in that place, the silent companion of Lady Beneviento.

It was true that she was strange, that the madness that accompanied her family had also hurt her. She was a sick, disturbed woman, reluctant to contact, to words, and even to show her face.

You never saw what was behind that veil, not even as her maid. Over time, you began to wonder if that portrait on the stairs had anything to do with the dark lady. If so, well… she was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

Donna wasn’t abrupt, but she wasn’t kind either. She would pronounce a few words or simple orders for you to carry out and you always thought you would have to settle for that. Little by little, the lady left her shyness aside, forming complete sentences or even conversations.

The tranquility you lived by her side gave you the privilege of distracting yourself, of entertaining and enjoying your free time. It might seem like a good job, an enviable one, but, when there was no cleaning, laundry or cooking to do, your head began to wander aimlessly, forcing you to focus your thoughts on her, always on Donna.

Of course, you never gave importance to that perhaps exaggerated affection you were beginning to feel. If you did, you were sure it would stop being just affection.

Every day, every night, you asked yourself the same questions, more and more frequently: What does Donna think of me? Does she like me being her maid? Why do I like being her maid so much?

You had to stop thinking about such things, or you would go crazy.

The lady in black walked silently to her desk, dropping into the chair and leaving something on the table, something shiny. You approached with a gentle step, your gaze fixed on the floor. You knew she didn't like your eyes searching hers, trying to interpret them.

“Has everything gone well, Donna?” you asked quietly, briefly catching her attention.

You will always find that contradiction curious. Donna didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with your presence, but still, she hated when you didn't call her by her name. That woman was herself a contradiction. You had no reason to be surprised.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at that mysterious jar.

You walked around the desk, your gaze fixed on that yellow glow, arching your eyebrows.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, leaning over the desk. “Is it a…?”

“What’s this, what’s this?!” a shrill voice screamed almost in your ear, making you recoil with a knot in your chest.

“Ugh, Angie…” you sighed, breathing hard, enduring the puppet's mockery and laughter, which were always directed towards you. “Don't yell…”

“Don't tell me what to do, you silly maid,” the doll said, with a cocky pose, also climbing onto the desk.

“D-Donna, what is…?” you asked in a lower tone, standing behind the lady and looking over her shoulder.

“It's none of your business,” the woman in black whispered, looking at you briefly, making her veil dance for your pleasure, revealing part of her pale skin, her black hair that gave her away as the woman in the portrait.

“Oh, right, I'm sorry,” you said, regretful for your blatant curiosity, bowing politely.

“Don't be sorry. It's better that you don't know, (Y/N),” the lady said, subtly looking away.

“O-Okay, you're right,” you said in a low voice, looking at the shiny jar out of the corner of your eye. “How was the meeting?”

Donna simply shrugged, telling you that she didn't seem to feel like talking, to no one's surprise.

“It’s a very cold day,” you said shivering, walking to the fireplace that you lit previously, rubbing your hands.

“Mm,” she murmured, without taking her eyes off that shiny jar.

“Maybe you'd like something warm,” you suggested, approaching the desk again and, involuntarily, making a gesture you had become dangerously accustomed to: reaching out your hand towards hers. “Oh, Donna, your hands are freezing,” you said with a worried expression, warming one of her soft hands with yours.

She was never bothered by your slightly daring attitude, by you touching her from time to time in an almost maternal way. You were always that way, and besides, you had become a bit addicted to those soft hands...

The lady cleared her throat, maintaining contact for a few more seconds before shyly moving her hand away.

“Um, yes,” she murmured, somewhat nervous about your annoying proximity.

“Well, I have a remedy for that,” you said with a smile as bright as that jar. “How about I make you some tea?”

“Mm, yes, tea,” she said with a hoarse voice, with a whisper full of discomfort at your proximity.

“Perfect,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The Duke brought a new batch of artisanal teas yesterday, I think they are the ones made by the Petrescu family,” you commented, absentmindedly placing some things on the shelves, making sure, as always, that everything was perfect for your lady.

“I don't care,” Donna whispered, with a tired sigh. “Bring me a tea, will you?”

“Right away, Donna,” you said with your usual cheerfulness, nodding elegantly. “With lemon and no sugar?”

“Yes, grazie, (Y/N),” she said, turning her gaze towards you. “Angie, go with her, I need a moment.”

“Me, with the maid?!” the doll protested.

“Yes, come on, go away, leave me alone,” the lady said, gesturing towards the puppet, who followed you muttering something, something that weren't exactly nice words.

Already in the kitchen, you prepared that hot drink under the intense gaze of the doll, who sat on the counter, but, miraculously, didn't bother you too much.

“Is Donna okay?” you asked casually, seeing something strange in the lady's behavior, seeing a certain… concern. “It's not normal for her to get rid of you.”

“I think she's a bit nervous,” Angie said, with a shrill but calm voice, watching how the hot water mixed with the infusion. “Maybe it's because you're unable to keep your mouth shut, silly.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes and leaning on the counter, thoughtful.

“If she didn’t like the way I am, I think I wouldn't be here anymore, would I?” you said amused, shaking your head.

“Don't have any doubts, maid,” Angie said, pointing at you with her wooden finger.

“Why is she nervous? Has something happened?” you asked curiously, frowning, remembering that mysterious jar.

“Well, actually... bah, you're not interested,” Angie said, looking away, with a gesture that told you it wouldn't be difficult to get information out of her. “You must take care of my Donna and she'll take care of her business, maid, don't overstep your duties.”

“Worrying about her is my duty,” you commented, arching your eyebrows. “If there's anything I can do to...”

“Yes, to shut up, you're a pain,” Angie cut you off, making you roll your eyes again.

“How curious, she's never asked me to shut up,” you joked, checking the water. “Oh, the tea is ready.”

“Because she doesn't dare to do it, that's what I'm here for,” the doll said, pointing at herself. “Donna is a coward.”

“Really?” you asked with a petulant tone and an intense look. “I find it hard to believe.”

“Believe me, I know her, she can't even tell you…” the puppet commented, catching your attention. “Bah, I don't know what I'm doing talking to you, maid.” she said hurriedly, lowering the counter and fleeing the kitchen, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

You laughed tenderly as you served the tea, walking slowly out of the kitchen, intrigued by Angie's words, but forgetting about them for a moment. You had all night to fantasize about the lady's feelings, now you were working.

“Here you go, Donna,” you said in a velvety voice, leaving the tea tray on the desk and taking the opportunity to glance at that shiny jar.

It looked like a simple jar, it could contain anything, but on the side, on a label, there was a slightly disturbing inscription.

Rose.W Legs

You blinked several times, trying to interpret its contents, hoping it wasn't literally what it said, shaking your head. Looking away from the jar, you moved your eyes to the lady in black, who was standing in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.

The villagers had always said terrible things about her, but you... you didn't think that way. Living with Lady Beneviento made you discover feelings, but also change your mind about truths that seemed immovable. That woman wasn’t a monster. She seemed human, very human.

“Are you okay?” you asked due the heavy silence, one that wasn’t usual in a situation like that.

“Mm? Oh, yes, of course,” Donna whispered distractedly, moving her head towards you and approaching the desk again. “The tea smells different…”

“Yes, my bad,”  you said amused, moving away a cup that was for you. “I gave it a personal touch with raspberry aroma. I-I know… I know you like it,” you murmured, blowing on your cup.

“You are very thoughtful, (Y/N),” the lady commented, making the same gesture with her cup. “Come, sit with me.”

“S-Sure,” you said somewhat nervous at that strange proposal, accompanying your lady to a pair of armchairs near the fire.

In silence, without Angie interrupting that warm moment, you both drank the tea. Normally it would be a special situation for you, one you would think about before sleeping, imagining a thousand ways to approach Donna. At this point in your life, it was already absurd to deny that… well, that you felt something more than pure affection for her.

But that time there was a different feeling, a heavy tension that pressed your shoulders down, an unusual atmosphere of concern.

Donna sighed, leaving the now empty cup on a nearby table, staring at the fireplace, and then, briefly, at you.

“(Y/N), I have a question for you,” she said in a hoarse voice, with a thick accent that betrayed nervousness. “You don’t have to answer, but I would like you to.”

“A question?” you asked somewhat surprised, choking comically on your tea. “Of course, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured thoughtfully, with the flames of the fireplace reflecting on what you could see of her face, dancing on her skin in a sinister way. “Tell me, if you could get out of this place… would you do it?”

“What?” you asked confused, shaking your head, tea shaking in your hands. “Oh, well, I…”

“I'm not going to judge you,” she said, lowering her gaze and playing with her hands.

“Yes, well… Let's see… the truth is that a sinister, cold village is not the place a girl like me dreams about,” you said, unsure of being honest, nervous about that out of context question. “But I can't complain.”

“Explain yourself,” your lady demanded, looking at you again.

“Well, I've heard amazing things about the outside world, but… I just don't need the outside world. The Gods have been kind to me and besides… I have a comfortable job, one that I enjoy,” you said, with the blush on your cheeks appearing to give you away.

“Do you like working for me? Don't talk nonsense,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone.

“Actually, I do,” you said with a lower voice. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm,” she murmured, not wanting to say anything else, relaxing in the armchair, her gaze fixed on the fireplace. “(Y/N), if I gave you the chance to leave right now, to flee from this village... would you do it?”

“No,” you answered without giving it importance, letting your feelings speak for you. “I don't want to leave. I-I-I'm fine with you, Donna.”

“You're fine with me,” she said, shaking her head, with a shy laugh. “You're dumber than I thought.”

“If I'm dumb for wanting to stay with you, I guess you're right,” you said with a serious tone, finishing your tea with trembling hands. “Sorry, Donna, but... what are these questions about?”

The lady looked at you and sighed again, making a strange gesture.

“It's nothing,” she whispered with a tone that revealed a big lie. “You... Will you stay with me? No matter what?”

“No matter what? What do you mean?” you asked, somewhat worried.

Donna shook her head again, nervous, erratic.

“Forget it, (Y/N), I'd better work on my dolls,” Donna said with a tired murmur, getting up from the armchair.

“W-Wait, Donna,” you said, interrupting her steps, causing her black veil to dance again. “Yes, I would stay with you no matter what, I'm your maid.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “I like you being my maid.”

That was the last conversation you had with her that night. The lady in black didn't have dinner, she simply disappeared, surely tired, or working tirelessly on her dolls. You knew something was up, something that wasn't good. Donna had never asked such strange questions, and the matter of that mysterious jar…

You couldn't sleep that night. There was something that worried you, something you couldn't guess and that made you nervous. A new day would put an end to it, or so you thought. If you thought carefully, you could see that it wasn't the first time Donna had behaved strangely, especially before a terrible crisis.

There was no screaming, crying or hitting, so that possibility was unfounded. No, it wasn't the lady's madness or the voices in her head, no, it was something else and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know.

The next morning started off calm and routine. Making breakfast, cleaning the house a bit… These were chores that distracted you from your thoughts and worries. Donna didn't come up to breakfast, she didn't show up, not even Angie seemed to want to make fun of you and make your work harder.

Something strange was definitely going on.

The sound of heels on wood alerted you as you were cleaning a piece of furniture, making you frown.

“(Y/N)!” the veiled lady shrieked, desperately looking for you. “(Y/N)! Dove sei!?”

“Donna,” you said, coming out of the corner you were cleaning, seeing in front of you the woman in black, with that horrible jar in her hand. “I-I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Oh, meno male…” she said, walking hastily towards you and roughly grabbing your arm, digging her nails into your skin as she dragged you towards the hall.

“Donna, what's going on? Y-You're hurting me,” you said, hissing in pain from her grip, but letting yourself be dragged along. “Donna?”

“Listen to me, you have to listen to me,” she said nervously, letting you go and putting her hands on your shoulders. “Do you hear me? Tell me you're listening to me!”

“Yes,” you said nervously, somewhat scared by her shaky voice, by her abrupt and senseless attitude. “Yes…”

“Here,” Donna said, handing you that shiny jar quickly, almost making you drop it. “Listen carefully, (Y/N), I want you to take this and go up to the attic.”

“The attic? D-Donna, I don't understand anything,” you said, shaking your head, with your heart beating very fast.

“Do what I tell you!” she yelled furiously, trying to calm herself down. “Do it, per favore…”

“I-I… it’s, it’s okay,” you said nodding, holding the jar tightly in your arms.

“Go up to the attic and hide there, did you hear me? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear… Don’t come down! Don’t come out! Is that clear?” the lady asked hastily, shaking you. “Is that clear!?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, nodding nervously.

Donna sighed looking around, removing her hands from your shoulders. In one of them there was another smaller object, it looked like… a syringe.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, uncapping the needle and, without saying another word, sticking it into your neck, emptying the contents.

“Ouch!” you squealed due to the prick and the fear you were feeling. “What was that!? What's going on, Donna!?”

“Sì… tutto bene…” she whispered to herself, moving your eyelids with her fingers, as if she were searching for something in your eyes. “Now, (Y/N), go to the attic and stay there, stay there, do you hear me?”

You nodded, noticing how her hand went down your cheek, in something terribly similar to a caress, a caress that you joined your hand to, almost crying.

“(Y/N)… I would have liked… to tell you so many things…” she whispered in a calmer tone.

“Donna… what's going on?” you asked with a nervous sob, with your body shaking, but without noticing any strange effect due to that injection. “Donna… no…”

“Go,” Donna whispered. “Vai … Vai!” she shrieked when she saw you weren't moving, pointing at the stairs.

You, scared and confused, obeyed your mistress's order, running up the stairs with the jar in your hand and going up to the attic, observing the hall through one of the cracks in the old wooden floor.

The lady moved nervously from one side to the other, next to her doll. The silence was drowned out by the sound of her heels. You were scared, disoriented, your neck hurt and what was worse; you didn't know what was happening.

Donna suddenly ran until she disappeared from your sight.

“What...?” you murmured, staring at the crack. “What's going on?” you asked yourself, tightly gripping the jar with your hands.

Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening was heard, and someone appeared, slowly entering the mansion. It was a man you had never seen before, with blond hair and clothes that definitely had nothing to do with a villager. He was confused and walked slowly through the mansion… he even carried… something in his hand, it looked like a gun.

When he raised his head to look up, you intuitively stepped back, hugging the jar. That man was looking for something, it was clear… maybe for the jar?

“Mia?” he asked, loudly, echoing off the walls of the mansion. “Mia, are you there?”

“Gods…” you whispered, watching how, unfortunately, he also disappeared from your sight.

He was calling someone, but you had never heard that name before, you didn't know why he did it and then you realized.

You ran a hand over your sore neck, remembering the puncture. That man must have been hallucinating thanks to Donna's powers and the influence of the pollen of the yellow flowers. You had already become accustomed to them, and according to the lady in black, they were harmless if she didn’t exert a certain power over them.

As you could tell from those erratic movements, that man was indeed being caught up in Donna's hallucinations, but you mysteriously weren’t. You came to a hasty conclusion. Maybe the syringe the lady stuck in your neck contained some kind of antidote to make you immune to her influence.

It was quite likely, since everything around you seemed normal, you weren’t hallucinating.

Time went by terribly slowly. Every second seemed like an eternity, the sinister silence of the mansion didn’t help at all. Every now and then, you heard something like a distant scream, surely coming from the basement since you had heard the elevator going down.

Your heart was beating furiously, impatient to know what was happening, urging your mind and body to disobey Donna and get down from the attic. With your patience exhausted and fear covering every inch of your skin, you finally decided to do it.

Slowly, without making any noise, you descended the ladder of the trapdoor, always carrying the jar with you. There was no one in the hall, and you couldn't hear anything. With all the subtlety the wood allowed you, you went down the stairs one by one, walking towards the door that separated the room from the rest of the house.

Breathing with difficulty, trying to step on the carpets so as not to make noise, you approached the door, poking your head through the frame. In the living room, nervous but still, was Donna, playing with her hands, with the Angie doll at her feet, as if she were waiting for something.

You hid again, watching from time to time in case something changed. It didn't seem to. More seconds, minutes... The lady didn't move but her body trembled and you did the same, peeking discreetly.

The metallic sound of the elevator put you on alert again, making a lump form in your throat, watching the living room.

From the hallway came that blond man, disoriented, as if he had, or was living, the worst nightmare of his life. He froze when he saw Lady Beneviento, moving slowly, cautiously towards her.

“Don't leave, I can't let you,” Donna whispered, with a dark and terrifying voice, moving her hand to lift Angie into the air, who began to laugh sinisterly, as always.

“Oh, still alive, huh? You better find me…” the doll said, walking quickly towards the man, who fell to the floor, being attacked by something invisible. “Find me…” Angie hissed, moving away from him and running back to her owner, who picked her up in her arms, running past the intruder.

“Hey, wait!” he shrieked, moving his arms and getting up from the floor, running towards the lady.

“No, no…” you murmured, putting a hand over your mouth, seeing that this invader was carrying scissors in his hand while he searched for the lady around the room.

The man moved around, desperately searching for whatever he was looking at while Donna dodged him, seeming completely invisible to his eyes.

After a few tense moments, the man reached out his hand, managing to reach the black fabric of Donna's dress, pulling it.

“I got you!” he shouted victoriously, stabbing the scissors into the lady's stomach, making her scream in pain.

“Gods…” you said shocked by what you were seeing, completely paralyzed “No… no…”

With one hand on her wound, the doll maker managed to get away from the erratic attacks of the intruder, walking towards you.

You snuck away in fear, hiding in what served as a storage room and suppressing the desire to help Donna, an almost irresistible desire.

The lady slowly climbed the stairs, moaning in pain, leaving a bloody mark on the wall she was leaning against. It was a terrible sight, you couldn't even be completely sure you weren't hallucinating.

The man also climbed the stairs and you couldn't see what happened, but you heard another terrible cry of pain coming from your lady, who appeared even more injured, with a terrible wound on her chest.

Slowly, barely able to stand, she went down the stairs, stumbling and rolling down them until she fell to the floor. Her hands, Angie… Everything was red, covered in blood, her blood.

The man followed her, bewildered, as she crawled along the floor, leaving a red mark on the wood. You couldn't stay there, you had to do something, quickly.

Before you could get out of your hiding place, the man lunged at Donna raising the scissors, about to stab her head while she writhed under his body, moaning, crying in pain and despair.

You couldn't stay there.

“No!” you screamed, leaving the room and lunging at the man just before he dealt Donna the last stab, a fatal one, no doubt. “No, Donna!” you screamed again, knocking the intruder down with a hard blow, throwing him to the floor.

He struggled with you, but something in his gaze suddenly changed, getting up scared.

“W-What...?” he muttered, shaking his head, raising his bloody hands, unable to take his eyes off the lady lying on the floor. “God... what have I done?”

“Donna, Donna…” you said hurriedly, crouching down next to the lady and lifting her body, placing it on your lap.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you through her dislodged veil, with an agonized moan.

“Shhh…” you whispered, keeping your hands on the wound on her chest, trying to stop it from bleeding. “Oh, Gods, Gods…”

“Hey!” the man shouted, grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. “What's going on here?”

“Let me go!” you yelled furiously, protecting Donna in your arms and looking at the jar you had dropped on the floor. “Is that what you want? Huh? Then take it and leave!” you screamed furiously.

The man put his hands on his head, nodding and dropping the scissors, lunging angrily towards the jar and running out the mansion.

“Donna… my Donna, please,” you said desperately at the moans of the lady, overwhelmed by her serious wounds, not being able to control them. “There is so much blood… Gods… Angie!”

The doll suddenly appeared with a clumsier than usual step, kneeling in front of her owner.

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, slowly raising her hand, a bloody hand. “(Y/N)…”

“Shhh, don't talk, don't talk,” you said desperately, taking off the handkerchief you always wore around your neck and putting it on her wounds. “I-It's nothing, you'll see… I… I'll save you…”

“Per favore…” she whispered, almost without voice. “Ascoltami, per favore…” she insisted, letting her hand fall due to lack of strength.

“Yes, I’m listening, Donna…” you said with tears in your eyes, with your handkerchief wet with blood, with the end that was approaching.

“H-Help me… to… to take this off…” she murmured with her voice broken by pain, weak, almost imperceptible, vaguely pointing to her veil, messy due the fight. “Per favore…”

“The veil?” you asked, pressing her wounds hard, desperate. She nodded slowly, coughing, with a thread of blood coming out of her visible lips.

“Per favore…” Donna insisted, grabbing your dress with a non-existent strength, with fury in her words, with impatience. “I want… I want you to see me… just as I am…”

“It's okay,” you said nervously, stopping pressing and moving the black fabric until it fell to the floor.

You wish it had been another time, you wish you had discovered that beautiful woman before, before losing her irremediably.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, bringing your stained hand to her untouched cheek, running your fingers over her skin, taking in every detail of her one eye, the scar that caused her to always wear that horrible veil. “Oh, Donna…”

“That's better…” the lady sighed, moving her hand up to yours, weakly running it over your cheek. “Y-You haven't had luck with me, have you?”

“Don't say that… N-Nothing's wrong… I'm here with you. I told you that no matter what happened, I'd be with you, Donna,” you said nervously, squeezing her shaking hand tightly. “Gods… we have to do something… stop the bleeding…”

“No,” she said, relaxing her body. “You can't… you can't do anything for me… just… just go, come on… leave me here and try to live a normal life, far away from here.”

“Shut up,” you said furiously, hitting the floor with your fists. “I don't want a normal life, I don't want a life… without, without you,” you said sobbing, giving soft slaps to her cheek because her eye was slowly closing. “No, Donna, don't fall asleep… look at me, please…”

The lady, who could no longer stay awake, smiled. It was a melancholic smile that pierced your heart.

“(Y/N)…” she hissed, giving in to that deep sleep. “Ho… ho freddo…”

“A-Are y-you cold?” you asked as her hand fell to the floor, moving away from your skin. “No, no… Angie, get something, anything!”

“Y-Y-Yes, r-ri-ght-aw-ay…” the doll tried to say. She couldn't speak clearly and suddenly fell to the floor as well. “I-I c-can't… mo-mo-mo-ve…”

“Angie? Angie!?” you yelled as you saw how the doll collapsed, motionless, losing consciousness. That was terrible, but even more terrible was its meaning: Donna was dying.

“No… No… No… No… No!” you screamed, seeing that the lady didn’t react to your touch anymore, she was inert. “No, Donna! Donna…” you whispered with tears traveling down your cheeks, bringing her motionless head closer to yours, caressing her forehead with yours. “No…”

The hand you were holding, that already dead hand, began to crack, making you panic, it seemed as if her body was beginning to disintegrate.

“No! No, please!” you cried desperately. “No! No…!” you stopped screaming when you felt a hand on your shoulder, a hand you didn't know was there.

You looked sideways, scared, seeing how, standing next to you, was the village priestess, the powerful and dangerous Mother Miranda.

Glancing at you briefly but expressionlessly, she crouched down beside you, placing a hand on the dead lady's chest, muttering something.

The cracked hand you were holding shifted, making those ugly cracks disappear under Miranda's focused gaze. That horrible look disappeared from Donna’s skin as you blinked in confusion.

The lady in black opened her eye for a moment, as if she had just revived. Her gaze went to you, but before you could rejoice, she lost consciousness again, but in a different way. Her chest rose and fell slowly, she was alive.

“Mm, I guess the worst is over,” Miranda murmured, not paying attention to you, checking the condition of the Lord. “Hey, you, you are her maid, right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, kneeling on the floor, smearing your face with her blood as you ran your hands through your hair. “I…”

“What are you waiting for?” the blonde asked, picking Donna up from the floor, carrying her in her arms. “Bandages, alcohol and wet towels, now.” she ordered coldly, carrying the unconscious lady to a sofa.

“Yes,” you said, nodding and obeying immediately, glancing sideways at Angie, who, fortunately, had also revived, although she seemed confused.

You quickly grabbed everything you needed. You were so nervous that you didn't have time to be scared or to fear Miranda's presence. After all, she had save Donna.

“Come,” the witch ordered, leaving Donna on a nearby couch, running a hand over her wounds. “Her dress, take it off, now.”

You nodded, bending down and slowly starting to undress your mistress, getting her blood all over you again, unable to think clearly. One by one you undid the buttons on her blouse, carefully removing the sleeves and leaving her wounded chest exposed. The doll maker looked just like one of her dolls, lifeless.

“That's it...” you murmured, leaving the lady lying down again, now without her blouse and her skirt.

The wounds were horrible, fatal if it wasn't who she was, or if Miranda hadn't arrived in time.

“Do you know how to sew, girl?” Miranda asked passing a towel over Donna’s wounds passively, as if her adopted daughter's life wasn't at stake.

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said nervously, while she cleaned the wounds.

With a sinister laugh, Miranda rummaged through a briefcase, taking out a surgical needle and thread.

“Then sew,” she said, handing you the objects in an unpleasant manner. “Think of it as it were a cloth.”

“What? N-No, I can't do this…” you said, shaking your head, overwhelmed by the situation.

“Mm, then don't do it and Donna will die…” the witch said, with a mocking tone. “I have a lot of work keeping her stable. I suppose you don't want to be ungrateful, do you?”

“No, Mother Miranda,” you said, shaking your head, looking away from the woman. “I will try…”

“You will,” she said, with a dark smile, while your trembling hands approached Donna.

Slowly, controlling your nerves, you managed to sew the two stab wounds clumsily, but effectively, or so the priestess's gestures told you.

“Mm, what a mess,” she commented, shaking her head while you cut the thread. “You are a pretty useless maid.”

“I have never done this,” you protested her words, while her golden claws ran over the seams, causing them to close on their own, at least a bit.

“That’s obvious,” Miranda murmured. “Mm, well, I suppose it will do. Bandage, maid, bandage her wounds.”

“Right away,” you said nervously, checking that Donna, your Donna, was still breathing.

After those tense and unpleasant moments, the priestess took Donna to her bed, leaving her there in an unpleasant manner. You, seeing those somewhat rough manners, hurried to move her body and put it under the sheets, covering her lovingly, caressing her hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, Donna…” you whispered in her ear, sitting on the mattress and grabbing her limp hand, squeezing it tightly in yours. “I'm here with you…”

“How sweet, Donna never told me she had a girlfriend,” Miranda commented, letting herself fall into a nearby chair with a mocking gesture.

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head.

“No, I… I'm just her maid,” you murmured, without stopping caressing the lady, faithfully accompanied by Angie, who, mysteriously, didn't say a single word, simply snuggled up to her owner.

“I see,” the priestess said, looking at her claws with disinterest.

“Mother Miranda,” you said in a low, cautious tone. “That man…”

“Ethan Winters,” she finished. “Don't worry about him. I've already made sure he doesn't bother us anymore.”

“Who was he?” you asked, looking at the lady, who moved unconsciously, probably due to the pain.

“Mm, no one that was you business, maid,” she said amused. “Ah... I guess Rose wasn't the right one, after all.”

“Rose?” you asked curiously.

“You ask a lot of questions, girl,” she said annoyed, to which you lowered your head. “Just take care of Donna, mm? I'm sure I can trust you, right?”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said with a firm voice.

“I assumed so,” she sighed, getting up from the chair and checking the condition of the youngest Lord for the last time. “If she wakes up and gets nervous or has a crisis, inject her with this,” she told you, handing you a syringe. “Relax, it's just a sedative... surely you know that it's easy for Donna to lose her mind.”

“Okay,” you said, taking the object and leaving it on the bedside table. “Is there something she should know? If she wakes up…” you asked again.

“Mm, well, she's probably worried about her siblings. Tell her that they're okay. That Winters vermin made the mistake of coming here first… how predictable…” Miranda muttered. “And above all… don’t let her open her wounds, oh, and change the bandage, if the wounds get infected… none of this will have served any purpose.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said, without paying any more attention to her

She gave you one last intriguing look and disappeared from the bedroom. Hours passed, you didn’t know how many, a time that seemed eternal while you watched the unconscious lady, while you caressed her in silence, praying for her to open her eye.

She didn’t. Donna slept all day and all night. Of course you listened to Miranda’s advice, and you took care of her even forgetting about yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed, in that place it was difficult to tell, but you didn’t move from there, not until her hand, which you held relentlessly, began to move.

“Mm…” a hoarse murmur caught your attention and you woke up from that kind of light sleep you were living in.

“Donna, Donna…” you said nervously, watching as she moved in pain, trying to get up. “No, no, Donna, don't get up, you'll open your wounds.”

“(Y/N)?” she asked confused. “Oh, cazzo…” she complained as she moved, lying back down on the bed with an agonizing moan.

“Don't move… that's it…” you said, lowering her body and covering it with the sheets. “Calm down, calm down…”

“I-I… what am I doing here?” Donna asked tiredly, looking at her bandaged body. “(Y/N), I… died…”

“No, no Donna. Mother Miranda saved you just in time,” you explained in a calm voice, running a hand through her hair, across her forehead, which had started to sweat.

“Mother Miranda?” she asked, hissing in pain. “Oh no… No, no!”

“D-Donna… what's wrong?” you asked, scared by her abrupt reaction. “Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ve failed! She trusted me and I've failed her!” the lady shrieked, moving dangerously, hitting the mattress with her hands.

“Shh, no, no… don't do that… you, you'll hurt yourself,” you said nervously, controlling her movements, watching her bandage. “Donna, please…”

“I had to protect Rose, and I’ve failed!” she shrieked again, pushing you unpleasantly.

The Angie doll moved, comically hiding behind you, fleeing from the irrational fury of her owner.

“Donna,” the puppet said. “Listen to (Y/N)…”

“Sono una stupida!” Donna shrieked, changing anger into desperate crying, covering her head with her hands. “Stupida, stupida, stupida!”

“No, that's enough,” you said, grabbing her wrists, truly scared “Donna, no!”

“Get away!” she screamed, pushing you to the floor and getting out of the bed, almost tripping in the process, doubling over herself. “I-I have to help them… he’s going after them…”

“Donna, please,” you said, getting up from the floor and holding her shoulders, watching as her wounds began to bleed again. “You can’t move, please…”

“Lasciami!” she shrieked, pushing you away again. “They need me!”

“They’re okay, Donna, your siblings are okay, Mother Miranda said that…” you said, trying to reason with her.

The lady looked at you with a fiery eye, falling to the floor after a cry of pain, grabbing her stomach with her hands.

“Donna!” you screamed, bending down to help her. “Please… t-they’re okay, it’s all over…”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” she hissed, holding your gaze. “You’re with him, right? You did this to me!” she shouted angrily, growling and lunging at you, her hands around your throat.

“No, it's not true! Donna, please!” you cried, unable to move in case you hurt her more, desperately searching for something on the nightstand.

“Bad Donna, she didn't do anything!” Angie screamed, adding a little more to the chaos that had formed.

“Angie…” you said with a choked voice. “Angie, the syringe…”

“Right,” the doll said, bringing you the sedative, which you immediately stuck into the brunette's neck.

“You bitch!” Donna yelled, putting a hand on her neck. “You will pay…! You will pay for… for this,” she said, losing her voice, collapsing on top of you, completely sedated.

“Gods…” you said with her unconscious body in your arms, looking at Angie with fear. “Gods, Donna. A-Angie, help me to get her into bed.”

They were especially difficult days, but, luckily, Donna calmed down, making your care even easier. Little by little, her physical wounds were healing, but the emotional ones were still very present.

The lady in black spent a whole week without speaking to you, until that day.

“That's it… slowly,” you said, while you calmly gave her some soup, almost as if you were feeding a child. “Is it too hot?”

Donna shook her head, making her hair, now loose, move hypnotically.

“Okay… Hey, you look really beautiful with your hair like that, you should let it down more often,” you said amused, checking the bandage condition. “Look, you're not bleeding anymore, Donna, you're better.”

“You could have left,” she whispered for the first time, getting your attention, making the spoon you were holding tremble in your hand.

“What are you talking about? Come on, just one more…” you said in a loving voice, bringing the soup closer to her mouth, soup that she rejected with a childish grunt. “Donna… don't be… Ugh…”

“Why didn't you leave?” she asked, making you desperate but sigh and leave the plate on the table.

“I told you I didn't want to leave,” you whispered, cleaning her maternally with a napkin. “Do you want a yogurt?”

“I want answers, (Y/N),” Donna demanded, with a dangerous look. “Mother Miranda managed to deal with the problem, but… what if she hadn’t?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, absentmindedly fixing her hair, holding her intense gaze.

“Things could have gone much worse, I could have died, me, my siblings, even Mother Miranda…” Donna murmured, looking away. “There was no point in staying here.”

“For me, there was,” you whispered, with a sad look, arranging the sheets. “I’m your maid.”

“Maid… Ha…” she murmured, shaking her head with a mocking smile. “How long are you going to use that stupid excuse? You don’t owe me anything. No one in this fucking village owes us anything, (Y/N)… Why do you insist on staying?”

“Because of you,” you said with a dry voice and wet eyes. “I care about you, Donna.”

“Mm, what stupidity, I don’t care about you,” she said in a childish way, turning her head but looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You laughed at that behavior and shook your head.

“Really? Oh, well… I think you asked me to take off your veil… what it was like… so I could see what you were really like,” you mocked, settling yourself on the mattress.

“Nonsense, I was dying,” she said, with a proud look.

“Yes, maybe it’s nonsense…” you sighed, picking up the tray. “You should rest. I will come in a while to heal you, okay?”

“(Y/N),” she said, with a cold, but different tone. “Why do you insist so much on making me believe that you care about me?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, not ending the conversation, sitting back down. “More than you think…”

“It was a lie,” the lady said out of the blue, making you blink confused and frown. “Actually… I  care about you, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you whispered with a tender smile, one that she returned. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want to tell you because… I knew that if I did, you would never leave,” she commented distractedly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “But… I don't just care about you, (Y/N)…”

“Donna…” you sighed nervously.

“I think… I think I love you,” she whispered in a barely audible voice, playing with the sheets.

“You love me…” you repeated incredulously while she nodded. “Is that why you wanted me to leave? Because you love me?”

“Yes, I… I…” she said, confused too, nervous. “I didn't want someone like you… to have to go through this. I wanted you to be happy, (Y/N).”

You, a bit disoriented, but sure, approached her, softly placing your lips on hers, leaving her speechless, with her eye wide open.

“Mm, well you… you must focus on recover, okay?” you said nervously, fluffing her pillow. “When you're feeling better maybe… maybe you'd like to try to be happy with me…”

“(Y/N),” Donna said, moving her hand to yours as you got out of bed, regretting your involuntary act. “I don't want to wait… kiss me again, please…”

[lunaandco]

spit

pairing: pedri x ofc

social media au

summary: pedri and rue hard launch but her fans notice he might be the muse for her dirtiest lyrics

masterlist

@ pedri posted:

rueful, feeeeerrr and 1.292.290 more liked

pedri: ni siquiera me miró dos veces la vez que nos conocimos <3

feeeeerrr: si le rompes el corazón me aseguraré de que la canción de ruptura acabe en el spotify wrapped

>pedri: hermano, cuanta confianza

>>rueful: lov u fer

user1: pedri pulling my favourite underground artist was not on my bingo card for 2024

>user2: share her name sis

>>user1: I'm gatekeeping her for as long as I can >:)

>>>user3: it's @ rueful

>>>>user2: thanks girlie

>>>>>user1: not cool

user4: nooo pedri I wanted to gatekeep her forever

>rueful: me too, babes, me too

user5: cool hair

user6: was anyone going to tell me pedri has a girlfriend or did I have to find out on my own?

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 23.383 more liked

rueful: he thinks he's special (he is)

pedri: esa foto no 😭

>rueful: the dangers of going public, there is more where that came from

>>feeeeerrr: I'd pay for more of those

>>>rueful: I take paypal

>>>>pedri: EY

user7: is this pedris girl?

>user8: looks like she is

>>user9: no one has ever heard of her before him. she's with him to promote herself

>>>user10: bruh

user11: still trying to wrap my head over this crossover 😭😭😭

>user12: thank god I found someone that was here before pedri 😭😭😭 I'm going insane with all this new people

>>user11: sometimes gatekeeping is good, actually

>>>user12: now the real question is, is pedri the guy from spit?

>>>>user11: fuck 😳😳😳

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 54.467 more liked

rueful: spit tour dump

pedri: barcelona was the best part

>gracemace: no <3

>>pedri: I thought you had already accepted me

>>>gracemace: trial period is never truly over

>>>>rueful: never beating the overprotective bestie allegations

user13: great, but I need to know if she was thinking about pedri when she wrote "spit in my mouth and ill swallow you whole/spit in my chest and ill eat you alive"

>user14: those lyrics live rent free on my mind 😳😳

>>user15: i mean... footballers love spitting on the pitch

gracemace: an amazing experience, hoping you'll let me be your background vocalist for the rest of my life.

>rueful: girl I can't live without you. I'm begging you to come with me on every tour.

>>gracemace: good 😈😈

user16: girl I need to know how she met pedri

user17: rue fang please never change

user18: her dirty lyrics are making me go through a second sexual awakening

>pedri: x2

>>user18: AYOOO

>>>user19: ariana what are you doing here

@ pedri posted:

rueful, gracemace and 5.382.290 more liked

pedri: bd'or ceremony 2024

feeeeerrr: so proud of you, manito

>pedri: <3

user20: somebody tell bro it was him who got nominated, not his girlfriend

>user21: can't help but stan a simp

pablogavi: el año que viene es tuyo hermano

>pedri: JA

gracemace: how did I end up here

rueful: love u

>pedri: love u more

user22: still trying to figure out how they met

>user23: RIGHT? like it's such a random pairing

>>user24: the PR is PRing

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 102.573 more liked

user25: so she's finally writing about him?

rueful: new single '8' coming at soon ;)

>feeeeerrr: unfortunately she's being doing that for a couple of years now. yall don't understand how annoying it is for your favourite singer to write about your brother

>>user25: BRO???

>>>user26: SPIT?????

user27: omfg

pedri: and to think you couldn't look me in the face at first 😏😏

>rueful: I was embarrassed, okay?

>>feeeeerrr: and you didn't want to come to the concert cabron

>>>pedri: not my fault you only like artist with three monthly listeners on spoty

>>>>rueful: bro

>>>>>pedri: don't call me bro 🥺

gracemace: 8 seconds, 8 minutes, 8 days, 8 weeks, 8 months...

>rueful: shut it

>>pedri: 8 on the back of his shirt

>>>rueful: EY

user28: still think it's PR?

>user29: always has been

>>user30: idk, girlie, I wouldn't write a song about a dude I don't love

>>>user31: allegedly it's more than one

>>>>user32: spit 💀💀

user33: never recovering from the fact that spit was written about pedri. he looks too innocent for THAT

>user34: he's a footballer. he's anything but innocent

[lightsiided]

     "if that's selfish, then i must be, too," rey returns firmly, holding thor's gaze. "my fears have been your responsibility. my complaints. my distress. you have taken it upon yourself to comfort me; does it make me selfish for enjoying it?" she shakes her head. "no. and you should know that as your wife, i wish to bring you the same comfort. no matter what is going on. no matter how i might be feeling. we're married, and i always want to know what you're thinking. i NEED to know, so we can... so you and i can work through it together." though it's the least of their problems, now, rey can't help but feel nervous when she thinks of thor hiding the way he feels. it was what had driven such a wedge between them after thanos. it was what had led her to exegol alone.

it had been hard to overcome. she doesn't want to do it again.

a hand lifts to thor's cheek to stroke his skin. rey wishes with all she has that she might promise him nothing will happen to her. that no matter how dark these next few days get, it won't affect her. if only it were possible to grant that wish. the truth is, neither of them know precisely what will happen. they are navigating this together, blindly, and hoping what they can do will be ENOUGH.

but she has to believe he is right; that their love is enough to defeat even the worst evils. it was love that defeated darth vader, after all. love that took luke and leia through their final moments. love that gave her the strength to return to thor after the battle of exegol. why shouldn't it be enough this time around? "yes," rey sighs, her voice a whisper in the dark. thor is so close she can hear each of his breaths. "we will fight. and we will win. and i will NEVER forget how unendingly you love me."

just as her throat tightens again, her eyes starting to shine, thor leans in for a kiss. rey meets him with equal fervor, a sense of desperation in each clack of their teeth and angle of their heads. her hands grip his arms, his shirt, as if she is reminding her body to remember what thor has said. she will hold onto their light, their love. she will hold onto who she is and all the things thor loves about her. all the best parts of herself, everything she already sees reflected back in leia. she must never let go. no matter how loud her thoughts get, she cannot FORGET. silently, she swears herself to him -- not for the first time. with all she has, she promises thor she will hold on.

struggling to catch her breath, rey eventually opens her eyes and chances a smile. it is thin, but there, and when her hands slide over his arms her caress is more gentle. "i can't believe you're the one thanking me," she replies. "nothing i could say would EVER convey how much your support means to me. i don't know what i would do without you." the uncomfortable truth is that her life would have ended long ago. "your wisdom is more valuable than you know. you keep me sane. you remind me of all the good in our lives."

her mind nudges his, a wave of endless affection washing over them both. thor is a husband more perfect than any she could have ever imagined. he always knows just what to say to make her feel better. "there will never be a lovelier husband or father," rey murmurs, leaning in to gently kiss him one more time. "thank you for always LISTENING to me. for refusing to judge even my darkest thoughts. for remaining an endless well of positivity and all that is good and kind. you mean so much to me, thor. i love you more dearly than anything else in the universe. it is because i have you that i am able to remain hopeful at all."

“how could i possibly?”  at her urging, his eyes remain trained on hers.  there is no shying away nor averting his gaze to lessen the sting of the words as they tighten his throat.  all at once, he knows he never must hide how he feels from her — but in times of distress, he doesn’t want to burden her.  “how could i be so selfish as to make my fears your responsibility?  these last few weeks have been hard enough on you… i hadn’t wanted to add to it.”

“and—“ after a sharp inhale, a bit of shame laced in the pained tone of his voice, “—i hadn’t realized until now that… perhaps i have not approached this as calmly as i would like to believe.”  the threat of the war itself doesn’t particularly frighten him, nor does the return of so many enemies.  how it will affect their friends, his family, his innocent daughter who is wonderfully oblivious to the brewing turmoil, is what has truly left him angry.  the prospect of what another round of the dark trying to reclaim the galaxy as its own will do to his wife is what terrifies him.

of course.  the harm he faces, he meets with his head held high.  but he shatters before the possibility of her being hurt, either of them.

“i know.”

though, if he is honest with himself, thor’s problems lie within the feeling that it is never enough.  despite the fact that they have spent years and years, now, proving to one another the lengths they are willing to go to protect what they’ve found.  thor could always do more; rey defied the fates themselves so that they could make it to this very moment.  he could always do more.  and he will never stop striving for it.  but he forces himself to not only hear her, but accept that she speaks the truth.  he has done a lot for her, just as she has gone to immeasurable heights for him.  they are deserving of each other.  they love each other as no one else possibly could.

“hold onto that.  hold onto all you cherish.  whatever forces may dare work against you… they don’t stand a chance against all we’ve made together.  love is the most powerful thing in all the universe.  we are going to be angry… we are going to grow frustrated, and we may very well have to fight.”

by now, thor has inched forward enough that no space remains between them.  he savors the touch of her hand to his face, the squeeze of her fingers around his shirt.  the tip of his nose presses to her cheek.  rey is his home; this is where he belongs.  whatever had forged their souls and decidedly separated them… his half will never stop trying to return to hers.  

“but holding onto our light and our love is how we will win.  it is how we’ve always won.  and i love you — i love you more than life itself.  above all, when it becomes loud, and seemingly too oppressive to bear, remember that.  hold onto that.”

and then he’s kissing her.  far from elegant and hardly gentle, it’s all emotion; raw and passionate and pure.  thor’s grip on her couldn’t be any tighter without bruising her skin.  finally releasing all that which has built within him for weeks and pouring it into her leaves his heart pounding.  a hum of relief sounds in his throat, and only then does he allow his eyes to close.  one tear rolls down his cheek, vanishing between the sliding of their mouths.

a weight he hadn’t known was pulling him down lifts, tension leaving his back and shoulders.  when will he learn, that she is the answer to all the ails him?  it’s what she’s here for.  for him to confide in, to trust, to fall to pieces with when he cannot do so with anyone else.  rey doesn’t believe his feelings to be a burden, he knows that — he would never consider hers such.  yet, still, he tries to shield her from it until it can be held back no longer.

a sigh passes between them, and he manages to tear himself off of her.  it’s another few moments before he opens his eyes, the only other sound coming from him being that of his heavy breaths.  “thank you,” thor whispers, having yet to relinquish his hold on her.  “for talking to me.  for your honesty.  being open, allowing ourselves to… rely on one another… as i said, holding steadily to our love is how we will persevere.”