#the care they have for one another is so fucking palpable I’m insane I’m insane

[teehee-vibes]

Thinking of Gillion and Finn today…

[loveiis]

chris x black!officer!reader

not proofread !

warnings: p in v, cursing, mention of drugs & alcohol (just one sentence), doggy position, breeding.

chris blasted his favorite song as he sped through the highway, range rovers and old vans becoming small blurs as the heat of the moment distracted him from hearing the blazing sirens of your police car.

you were somewhat new to being on the road, finding people with drugs in their car or under the influence. however, for some reason this was the first time you have ever really stopped someone for speeding. doesn’t happen as much as it used to a couple years back when you were in training.

after you turned on your sirens you turned on your lights as you waited for the man to pull over. “shit..” chris cursed himself under his breath multiple times as he saw your lights. slowing his car, he pulled over to the side.

you pulled over behind him, turning off your sirens as you exited the car. you headed towards the man in the white suv, standing in front of his tinted window, tapping against it to ask him to put it down.

as he rolls his window down, he takes in the sight of you and your tiny uniform making your tits pop out, and god, those fucking shorts; shorter than anything. he wonders if you can even breathe in that thing.

you cross your arms over your chest. “i suppose you know exactly why i pulled you over, correct?” you lean to one side, putting all your weight on one foot. chris is almost at a loss of words as he sees your breasts push together and your hips move, he doesn’t want to think so erratically of you, but that uniform was driving him insane.

“uh- yes, mrs. officer. i was speeding.” he cleared his throat as he let go of the steering wheel, his eyes still roaming your body.

you certainly notice his… curious eyes, but you disregarded it. you were on duty, there’s no time to be giving bedroom eyes to someone in trouble.

“so, you understand that you’ll be given a ticket?” you raise an eyebrow, looking at him more intently, assuming he knows how this goes. he freezes slightly, remembering that when you speed you have to pay a ticket. “fuck, yeah- i do.” he responds, the uncomfortable tone in his voice palpable.

“something wrong, sir?” you ask, pulling out your stack of empty tickets and a pen, to write down the amount he has to pay.

chris runs his hand through his hair nervously before adding, “d’you think i could pay you… in another way?” he looks back at you, with a serious face. you already know what he’s going to ask, but there was no point in him trying. “sir, the payments do not go to me, so there is no point in trying to pay me in… other ways.” you explained.

he sighed, looking around quickly before turning his head back to yours. he glanced at your chest and back up to your eyes. “if i show you how i can repay you… could you let me go?” chris leans against his seat, awaiting your response.

you knew exactly how these stories went. the officers would get caught up with some girl or boy, and end up being terminated from their job. you couldn’t let that happen.

you sigh as you place the stack of tickets and the pen back into your pocket. “sorry, i’m not going to lose my job over something so stupid such as letting you pass because you want to get.. intimate with me.” you place your hands on your hips.

you couldn’t deny it, the man in the car was attractive, but he was also a man of trouble. you can’t let him just go about his day.

“please, ma. i’ll make sure you won’t be fired, i just want to show you that i’m worth letting go.”

and someway, somehow, you found yourself in the backseat of his car, gripping onto the seat as he pounded into you from behind. you knew you would have to hear your bosses mouth telling you that you’re fired, but you were too caught up in the pleasure to even care.

“o-oh f-fuck.. s’ fucking good– shit!” you practically screamed when he reached under you to rub tight circles on your clit. “yeah, mrs. officer? you like being fucked like a whore so much you risked- shiiiiittttt baby- risked your job?” he smirked, watching the way his member disappeared behind your ass.

you couldn’t even respond, the pleasure making your mind blank. “i know you can use your words, baby. tell me you risked your job for me, hm?” he paused his motions on your clit and pushed down on your back, making you arch.

you let out a high pitched moan at the new angle as ge repeatedly hit the right spot. “i- i- fuck… i risked my job for you..” you rested the side of your face on the seat, your mouth opening to moan, but nothing comes out.

“mhm, risked your job for this dick, huh?” he gripped your waist tightly, as he got closer to the edge. “yes— yes! for your dick!” you groaned, your cunt clenching around him as your pleasure built up inside of you.

“jesus- fuckin’— squeezing so tight around me.. come with me, baby.” chris threw his head back at the feeling of you getting closer. his thrusts started to get harder but sloppier as you both chased your own highs.

“im— oh, god.. m’ coming!” your fingers gripped onto the seat harder, trying to stabilize yourself. “me too baby, shit— pussy’s made just for me… gonna fill you up so nicely.” with a few more thrusts, you clenched down on him, releasing all over his cock with a long whimper.

“fuckfuckfuck— so fucking perfect.” he stilled himself inside of you with one last harsh thrust, filling you to the brim. he massaged your ass before giving it a light slap.

“might have to arrest you, mrs. officer.” he chuckled before pulling out of you and flipping you over on your back. chris watches silently in awe at the mess that dripped down between your thighs.

he shakes away his thoughts before grabbing a towel from the pocket behind the front seat and cleaning you with it.

as he finishes cleaning you, you both straighten up, pulling your bottoms back up and pushing your tit that fell out your uniform back in.

he returns to his front seat as you stand outside of his car, his window open as he talks to you.

“you know im going to get fired, right?” you sigh, glancing quickly at the cars passing by before turning back to him.

“no baby, i got you.” chris responds, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill. he reaches out to you and sticks it in your bra.

you let out a laugh through your nose. “y’know its only twenty five, right?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“just an extra tip for mrs. officer.” he replies, looking you up and down before smirking and driving away.

wc: 1,171 words 6,240 characters

divider by @/saradika-graphics

hope u guys liked this one :)

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

-

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

[narrators-journal]

The final step

This is it boys! The final part! After this, I have no other fic to post, so I’ll probably return to original work or silence lol. But! I’ll try to post what I can to feed ya’ll content!

cw: descriptions of murder, Hint o’ Hisoka, reader’s pregnant

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi spent a while helping you pack before the butlers he'd requested showed up, than he returned to his home across the street to pack up as well. After all, with you now on the track to marry him, he would no longer need the home. Though, maybe we could keep it, and use it as something of a vacation spot to escape mother's unrelenting nagging. He mused.

While he was shoving his clothes into his bag and mulling over that option, he spoke to said mother, or, more-so half listened to Kikyo squeal and giggle in pure delight at the news of your pregnancy.        "Mother, please refrain from shrieking in my ear," he said when his excitable mother had to stop for breath,         "I'm sorry dear, but this is such good news! Your father and I were hoping this woman would prove to be a good wife, and while I will say it's a little soon for a baby, this is good news nonetheless!" She squealed, making the assassin huff,        "I know, I should've waited until after I'd married her to consummate," Kikyo about blew a raspberry at his words, making him blink,        "Illumi, we don't care if you decide to have sex before you get married. My only concern is that this woman isn't the right one for you." she said, "Your father would prefer that you choose a woman a bit more suited for our line of work, but if she's really as submissive as you described, I'm sure she'll be a fine addition to the family. Oh! And I'm sure your child will be absolutely adorable! I can't wait to put little booties on them, and absolutely dote on them like you no longer let me do-"          "Mother," Illumi said, though his mother knew despite his monotone voice that he was annoyed.          "Well, you don't." she sniffed before changing the subject. "Anyway, when are you bringing her home? I want to meet her already!" she said, going into a bit of a rant over his failure to even show Kikyo a picture of you, but her son was no longer listening. Instead, Illumi's attention was turned to his surroundings, his senses on high alert from the waves of malicious intent he felt so suddenly from the direction of your home.         "Mother, was Hisoka released?" Illumi asked, his mother's voice dying at the palpable tension coming through the phone,         "I believe so? Your grandfather was apparently sick of the creep, so he had him thrown out." she offered a second before Illumi hung up. In a flash, the assassin was across the street at your home, his needles at the ready. As soon as he set foot in the house, the assassin was greeted with the familiar scent of blood hanging in the air like a heavy blanket and a silence that ate at his nerves. Your home was quiet. too quiet. It about drove the assassin insane with the possible reasons behind the lack of life. Of course, the butlers that were tasked with helping you pack your clothes were dead, so that helped to explain the stifling quiet, but the sight of the help mercilessly slaughtered didn't justify the way Illumi's heart raced and a strange feeling gripped at his throat until he felt he couldn't breathe. The only time that feeling seemed to finally leave, only to be replaced with wrath, was when the casually dressed assassin slipped into your bathroom, his needles poised to be thrown, and he was met with the one person he didn't want to see inside of your home.         "Hisoka." he hissed, his dark eyes narrowing and his aura reflecting the heated rage that boiled his blood at the sight of the brightly colored magician, who turned to look at him lazily, frowning as if the soulless man was as equally unwanted as the pink haired man was,         "Before you maul me and get no answers, I didn't hurt your precious (y/n)." He assured, plucking one of his signature playing cards and licking the blood of a butler from it before continuing "I believe she crawled out of the bathroom window. So, I suggest you go get her back before you focus on me. Don't want her to get too far away now, do we?" The magician pouted, knowing damned well Illumi wouldn't bother with him after that news, which meant Illumi wouldn't be fighting him, yet. The assassin did, in fact, leave the magician at your house, going out instead to find you. If the help wasn't so fucking incompetent this would be a lot easier. He thought as he forced his wrathful aura into zetsu while he coldly rushed by the corpses and returned outside to prowl down the chilly streets of town, turning that edgy, strangling, anxiety feeling in his throat into energy to fuel his possessive hunt for his wife, his property. On the bright side of the situation though, you were nothing compared to the dark-haired predator, so he had that to cool his unhinged emotions before running into you. You were a recluse, you likely didn't know your way around town that well, so your trail was pretty obvious. In times of life threatening danger, people, more-so women, usually went to crowded areas after all, and you didn't know of many places that would offer help, so you were likely going to head to your grocery store. Knowing that, Illumi was able to get ahead of you, scooping you up before you could slow from a mad dash fuelled by mortal terror to a speed at which you could avoid slamming into the hunter's chest.        "(y/n)," he growled, shaking you once, firmly, to put a stop to your flailing and squirming, "I am this close to jamming one of my needles into your brain. STOP IT." He ordered, the force of slightly panicked rage in his words making you freeze and stare up in terror at him with your wide (e/c) eyes. For a few seconds you stared at one another, your form squished to his in an inescapable grip while his soulless eyes glared down at you until you finally burst into tears.       "Please! Just let me go!" You plead, your voice quivering with barely restrained sobs, so he took a deep breath and ran his thumb down your already tear-stained cheek,       "Why would I do that? I'm only trying to keep you and our baby safe." he reminded you, but you shook your head vigorously, making bits of your (h/l), (h/c) hair stick to your face,        "You're scaring me! Please let me go, I'm begging you Illumi." you cried, trying to shake his comforting hug off,        "I thought you loved me," he said, not releasing you even when your upset tantrum stuttered to a stop. For a moment, you seemed conflicted, but than closed your eyes and tried to kick him to no avail,         "I...I don't know anymore. You've...become so scary recently, I have to p-put my own well being ahead of any shallow attraction." you sniffled, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He brushed a strand of hair from your (s/c) face as you shook against him          "(y/n), I would never do anything to harm you or our baby unless you force me to. Just behave and act like you did before figuring out you were pregnant, everything will be okay." he assured, making his voice as comforting, soft, and loving as he could manage to try and sooth you. Thankfully, he could see the fear and rebellion in your (e/c) eyes dim, returning to their usual, gorgeously submissive state. After that, you only gave one final attempt at escaping his arms before finally giving up. "Good girl, (y/n). Now, let's go home. My mother is about to implode in her excitement to meet you." After that, Illumi returned to the house he had bought for his bag of clothes, then made a beeline for the Zoldyck estate. On the trip there, the long haired assassin tried to make you happy, providing you food, comfortable places to sleep when need-be, and finding you little gifts related to your hobbies to try and entertain and make you smile. He could tell that you were still uncomfortable with him, but you slowly began to warm back up to him when your human need for companionship demanded it. However, the one thing he couldn't save you from or prepare you for, was Kikyo. The woman about tackled Illumi when he pushed open the testing gates, but as soon as you were through and safely on Zoldyck land with your husband protectively at your side, his mother began her fussing.       "She looks so ill! Illumi, did you make sure she's physically healthy?"       "She's not much to look at, maybe if she tried more make-up and clothes that fit her better?"       "Illumi, where are her things? Did you just snatch her up off of the street while she was pregnant?!" The only thing that saved you and Illumi from his mother's judgements and chiding was a firm look from his father, Silva, who was making a rare appearance to greet you in a much calmer manner.       "To answer your questions, I will get the family doctor to look her over, and her things had to be left. A threat came up and I needed to bring her here before harm befell her, so I will need to buy her new clothes." The dead eyed assassin assured his mother, who obviously had more hen pecking to do, but she refrained under the stern look of her husband. After that, Illumi got you nicely settled in to his bedroom, and while you did put up some more of a fight over staying there, you mostly accepted your role as his wife-to-be and mother of his child rather easily. He knew you were simply acting out from your hormones and the stress of your situation, so he did his best to keep his temper with you.         "It'll be okay (y/n), once you get comfortable here, we'll be happy." Illumi soothed one night after one of your bouts of sobbing and fighting to escape while he sat, cross-legged with you in his lap and his hands rubbing your belly. You weren't showing much yet, but it still pleased him greatly to now have his wife and child safely at home. That's right, he thought, letting a rare smile spread across his usually unreadable face, you're home now, (y/n)...

[psychedellic-phase]

Princess (smut)

A/N: I feel like this is definitely out of character but it literally would not leave my brain. also yes they are so toxic !!! I binge wrote this at 1 am so I hope you enjoyyy

tw: arguing, cursing SMUT! Oral (male receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, cheating & toxic relationships.

word count: 4.6 k 

masterlist

It was Thursday. I knew I’d find him where he usually is on Thursdays: that corner table at O’Malley’s, the one below the neon ‘Corona’ sign. 

I went most Thursdays, when I could, and sat at a table across the bar. It was the perfect place to watch him have two whiskeys, neat, and go home alone. 

He hadn’t noticed me yet. It’s not like I looked different, I still looked like me but he looked better and better every time I saw him. 

Was it weird to watch my ex-boyfriend that I swear I’m over from across a bar? Yes. Do I have a loving boyfriend at home waiting for me to come home every Thursday? Yes. Am I lying to this boyfriend? Yes. Am I completely over my ex like I say I am? Clearly not. Am I completely insane? Definitely. 

It’s not my fault though, Spencer Reid just had to be all consuming. Addicting. Intoxicating. A human black hole who I’d happily fall back into any given day, but he couldn’t know that. It would just feel his already overinflated ego. He could never know about how all my thoughts revolve around him. Maybe he isn’t a black hole, maybe he’s the sun, and I’m just a planet spinning around him. 

Every Thursday I tried to get up the nerve to go say Hi. And every Thursday I managed to get up the nerve the second he paid his tab and left. 

But today, that was going to change. I was going to do it, just say Hi. It shouldn’t have been scary, I did spend six months of my life with him. He knows me, much better than I’d like to admit, and I know him. But he always knew how to make me twitch. The man could make me nervous, and men never make me nervous. No one ever makes me nervous. 

I watched him as he sat, his hair longer than it had been when we were together. His suit looked the same, so did the gray cardigan and maroon tie. I vaguely remember having that exact tie around my wrists one night. He used his beautiful fingers to trace the rim of his cup, his brown hair covering his eyes lightly. His eyes, brown but hazel, like a golden green, with beautiful eyelashes I was always jealous of. They’re so long, he looks like he has mascara on.

Wait his eyes. 

Eyes?

Shit. 

I had made direct eye contact with him. 

He saw me. 

I saw him. 

Fuck. 

And now he’s walking. Towards me. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Here he is, right in front of me. God he’s so hot.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stared at him. He slid the chair across from me from out under the table without asking permission. He sat in it, whiskey in hand.

“So what exactly have you been doing here every Thursday for the last eight Thursdays, Y/N?”

I blushed lightly, but kept my composure. He knew how to make me nervous but I knew how to make him sweat. 

“O’Malley’s makes the best cosmos in DC.”

He shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s a mediocre cosmo at best. You’re here for me. So here I am.”

I sat up in my seat, “Mediocre cosmo, and mediocre company.”

“Mediocre?” He chuckled darkly, “If I’m so mediocre then why have you been watching me?”

Of course he figured me out, he’s a goddamn FBI agent. God I was stupid sometimes, but only with him. It’s like every time he spoke, half of my brain flew out of my head. 

“Honestly, there isn’t much else to look at around here,” I gestured around the dingy bar, “And also, it’s been way longer than eight Thursdays. You should brush up on those observation skills, Dr. Profiler.”

His eyes darkened, “You never answered my question, Princess.”

I shuddered at the use of that nickname. I hadn’t heard it from him in a while, I just hoped he couldn’t see the effect it had on me. I evaded the question again, “The better question is why do you come here alone each week like clockwork?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re here every Thursday like clockwork.”

My mouth fell open slightly. He thought about me. I was weirdly proud of myself for that. He continued, “What? You think you were the only one watching? Please.”

I scoffed, “Then why wait so long to come over?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I bit my lip, a dull flame forming in my belly, “I don’t come over because I have a boyfriend, and it would be inappropriate.”

He smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth, “Well that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” I was offended. He acted as if another man would never want me, like the colossal pain the ass he always is.

“No, no, I believe the boyfriend. But the threshold of what is appropriate was passed when you lied to him for weeks just so you could get a good look at me.”

He was right. I did lie, about a lot of things and mostly to myself. God, why couldn’t I just love the nice guy? Why was it the infuriating, sexy, genius who I found myself in quicksand with?

“Stephan knows where I am.”

Another lie he’d see right through, but I didn’t care. I’d lie through my teeth if that meant that he would keep talking. God, how I missed his voice, his stupid, arrogant, beautiful voice. 

Spencer looked at me straight in the eyes then, “Does he princess? That’s sweet.”

The condescension in his voice was palpable.

“You’re still so passive aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair to create space between us. He leaned forward, eradicating the space I just created. 

“Yet you’re still here.”

I stood up then, feeling like the tension between us could suffocate me, “I’m getting another round. Neat?”

He nodded, “Make it a double, I think I’ll need it.”

I walked over to the bar, finally getting some air. I was already so hot, and it wasn’t from the packed bar. It was from the way his eyes looked through me, the way he said my name, the way he said ‘Princess’. I regained my composure and sauntered back over to him. Game on, Pretty Boy. 

“So how’s what’s his name? Steven?” He said, taking his new drink. 

I rolled my eyes, “It’s Stephan, but you knew that. You know everything.”

He chuckled cockily, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, how is Stephan?” He said the name with a fake posh accent, forcing me to hold back a laugh. 

“He’s wonderful,” I responded, twirling the mini umbrella from my drink between my fingers. Spencer’s dark eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, reading me like a book. The same way he always had. 

“No he isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Wh-,” I groaned, “Spencer, I swear he’s great!”

“You haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

“And you haven’t gotten less infuriating.”

“Infuriating? Me?” He was mocking me now, I crossed my arms in defense, hoping maybe he could read that body language, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. 

God why did he have to be like that? How did he always know exactly which buttons to press? And why did I like it? Why was I on fire from the moment he walked over?

“You were infuriating for the six months we dated, three years ago, and you’re infuriating now.”

He shrugged, “But you still like it. Some things never change, Princess.”

I blushed, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it, “I don’t like it. I hate it.”

He moved his chair closer to me at the table, so close I could smell him. He smelled the same way he did those years ago, and I had the same reaction. Thank god I was sitting; he made me so weak in the knees.  

Snap out of it, Y/N. I ordered myself, Think of Stephan, yes. Stephan, beautiful, boring Stephan. 

“Stephan isn’t infuriating,” I said, trying to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. God, I wanted to feel them against me. 

“Oh really? What is Stephan like?” Spencer said, using air-quotes around his name, disgust dripping from each syllable. 

“He’s nice.”

I avoided making eye contact, knowing full well how Spencer could see every lie I was about to tell. It wasn’t that Stephan was bad, he was just so, painfully, boring. If cardboard was a human being, it would’ve been Stephan. 

“Nice? That’s all?” Spencer said it with an air of amusement. 

“Well, he’s an accountant and he’s thirty-one.”

Spencer leaned close to me now, his breath smelling like whiskey and tickling my cheeks as he spoke, “Those are facts Y/N, I want to know what he’s like. Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?”

I gulped. There were the nerves. I was starting to twitch; his specialty. 

“He’s wonderful. He’s charming. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

Spencer leaned back, crossing his legs and drinking some more, waiting for me to continue. 

“My parents love him. He’s smart, and handsome too.”

Spencer scoffed, “Your parents loved me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, he actually calls when he says he will, unlike you. Also unlike you, he’ll open doors for me because he isn’t scared of germs. He also doesn’t correct me every time I misspeak, instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and smart, and funny.”

We fell silent, both looking angry and defensive. He always could get to me like this. My body was hot and angry and so was his. He looked so good, it actually hurt. Could his lips be any pinker? Could his jawline be any sharper? 

“I’m waiting for the ‘but,’” He said, taking me out of my head for a moment. 

“But?”

“Yeah, what’s his fatal flaw Y/N?”

“Flaw? He has none. He’s literally perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes!” I snapped. 

“No one’s perfect. What’s his flaw?” 

“None!”

Spencer kept badgering me, “What is it? Tell me, Princess. Tell me. Tell me what it is, you know you want to.”

It felt like a dam that was inside me had been broken, water and the truth pouring out at once, “He isn’t you!”

Spencer leaned back and smiled, “There it is.”

“Stephan is kind and gentle. We don’t scream, or fight. I don’t stay up crying and yelling and cursing! But he isn’t you, and I wish he was.” I gasped for air, not realizing I hadn’t been breathing, “There! Are you happy now?!”

Spencer was grinning, just like usual, “Very.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your turn.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, “My turn?”

“Yeah, why have you been alone the last three years Reid? We both know you can have anyone in this place. Hell, Red over there has been eyeing you up for the last hour,” I gestured to the girl a few tables away who had been stealing glances at Spencer. An action that totally didn’t make my blood boil, at all, not even a little. 

He avoided my gaze now, “You know why.”

Now I had the power back. I got close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. All my reservations were gone, I was in the black hole. The fire in my body that I hadn’t felt for so long was finally back, “I want to hear you say it.”

He got even closer, lips barely a millimeter apart, “Just like he isn’t me, no woman alive will ever be you.”

I smiled, proud of the confession. I pulled back. As much as I wanted him right now, right here on this sticky bar table, I am no cheater, and though I forgive, I never forget. 

“Another difference between you and Stephan is that he won’t break my heart.”

Spencer smirked, “He can’t break your heart, because you feel nothing for him. There’s no love to lose.”

I sighed and ceded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

A comfortable silence followed, and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was from the cosmos or from Spencer. He tended to do that to me. We both had softened. I was sad, because I knew it would never work. As much as I wanted it to, it wouldn’t. It didn’t three years ago. I just needed to live with it. You need more than passion to make it work. Hell, if all you needed was passion, Spencer and I would be growing old together right now. 

“This isn’t healthy, you know?”

Spencer nodded, all aggression faded away, “I know.”

“This will never work.”

“I know.”

“No I mean like never.”

Spencer gave me a half smile, “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand in the most platonic way possible. His skin was warm. I missed the way it felt under mine. 

“I just wish it would.”

He smiled sadly now, big brown eyes meeting mine and looking through me into my soul, “So do I, Princess.”

I laughed, “And stop calling me princess!”

“Or what, Princess?” He said it flirtatiously, his hand squeezing mine.

“Or I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what, Princess?”

“Stop myself from kissing you right now.”

He leaned in, lips barely an inch apart again, “Then don’t.”

And with that our lips touched softly, before we parted. The kiss was familiar but foreign. I’d felt it a million times before, but this one was different because the feelings were different. We stared at each other, before I stood, holding his hand. 

“Follow me,” I said, the fire in my belly mixing with the delightful throb in my core. All reservations were gone. I needed him. I needed him right now, or I felt like I might explode. 

He held my hand as we maneuvered between the crowd and ended up in front of the bathroom.

“Bathroom? Y/N there���s so many germs that’s-”

I had to cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips found each other so easily, like second nature. His were soft but chapped, I missed the way they felt on the rest of my body. I pulled him into the stall, and he pressed me up against a wall. His rough hands roamed my figure, landing on my hips and squeezing there. I pressed my hips into him, relishing the feeling. My hands found his hair, tugging at the roots to beckon his mouth open. He obliged, tongue moving across my lower lip and tangling with mine. Every movement sent twinges of pleasure to my core. 

When we broke apart, he looked at me, his light brown eyes seeming impossibly dark with lust, the same darkness that they held just minutes before. 

“Please, bedroom, not here,” He begged, and I silently agreed, peeling myself off of him.

I dropped a fifty on the table before stumbling out into the street for a cab. His hands never left my body, and his lips found mine every chance they got. 

In the back of the cab he was on top of me, squeezing the flesh of my butt as I left butterfly kisses and sucked on his neck. 

We showed up to my apartment, and ran inside. He pressed me up against the elevator door.  “Princess, I need you,” he whined, making me moan into his lips.

“Soon, so so soon, fuck.”

I fumbled with my keys, but soon we were inside.

“Bedroom,” he ordered before crashing his lips against mine again, this time even more feverishly, if that was physically possible. I stumbled backwards in the general vicinity of my room, not wanting to break apart from him for even a moment. He pressed his large hand into my back, steadying me for a moment and took his lips off mine. 

I whimpered, immediately missing the warmth of him on me. 

“Lead the way, princess.”

I smiled wide at the use of that pet name. It always sent an extra jolt of pleasure to my center when Spencer whispered it. 

Grabbing his hand I found the bedroom door. Before we even crossed the threshold his hands were on my body again, this time under my dress looking for panties to peel off.  

“No panties? Were you waiting for this Princess?”

I nodded and groaned as I kissed him, moving my lips down and across his sharp jaw, flicking my tongue out every once in a while and sucking lightly on spots. Just enough for him to moan, but not enough for a mark. I felt my knees hit the mattress of my bed and I fell back onto it, Spencer towering over me. 

I pulled my dress off, throwing it and my bra far away. I needed him to touch me. Now. 

His hands were cold on my chest, making my hardened nipples even harder. He pinched the buds lightly, making me arch my back into his body. 

He snickered, “Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

I groaned and pulled at his shirt, telling him I wanted it gone. 

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled against his chest as I kissed whatever skin I could reach. He did as I wished, and I sat up on my elbows to watch. His muscles contracting as he pulled it off was enough to force me to rub my thighs together, desperate for any feeling. He undid his belt too, letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His boxer briefs left little to the imagination, not that I was complaining. The light gray material was darkened in one spot from where his precum was dripping. 

“Come back, Sir,” I begged.

His hands were on my shoulders and pushed me back so he could be on top of me again. The feeling of his chest against mine was maddening. I could also feel his member on my thigh, so close to my dripping heat, but still so far away. He distracted me with another kiss, his teeth coming out to bite my bottom lip. I moaned at the slight pain, running my hands all over his bare back. He worked his way from my lips to my jaw, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It drove me wild. I was bucking up into him, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave pretty red marks in their wake. He then made his way to my ear, sucking on the lobe ever so slightly. 

“You know, the ears are an under-appreciated erogenous zone,” he said between nibbling and sucking on my ear and the skin around it. 

“S-Spence,” I let out a breathy moan. Everything he did sent me reeling, clawing into his back begging for more. He really did drive me insane. His hand was back on my breast now, one arm was holding him up while the other pinched and played with my nipples. 

As he kissed and sucked the soft skin of my neck I did the same to whatever skin I could reach. I sucked on his shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone, appreciating how his skin was a little salty. 

I took one hand from his back and slid it between us, reaching down and toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

“Princess,” he moaned right in my ear as I reached in and pumped his hard cock twice, flicking my thumb over the tip to smear around his precum. 

He sat up, kneeling on either side of my thighs and I took that as my chance to pull the boxers down just enough for the pink head to bob out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in some parts. He gave you a slight nod, and I sat up, immediately taking my tongue from base to tip. 

He took in a sharp breath as I took the tip of my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, collecting what had formed there. It was salty, but I didn’t mind. The taste was familiar. I selfishly went down to lightly suck on his balls, squeezing the one not getting any attention with my free hand. He sighed, hands tangling through my hair, tugging at the root. 

I pushed on his stomach, “Lay down, I want to suck you right.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. In a matter of moments I was straddling him, taking the head and sucking on it gently. 

“Fuuuck,” he whined, “You give the best head princess.”

I smiled around his cock as I took it inch by inch into my mouth. My hands took whatever I couldn’t fit and I started at an agonizingly slow pace. Speeding up as his grip on my hair got tighter. 

He moaned in approval, a slew of curse words and praises I could barely hear. I was just focused on swirling my tongue around his cock as he buried it in my throat. He bucked his hips in an attempt to face fuck me, and I allowed it. The head brushed against the farthest point in my throat, causing me to gag, saliva dripping down the sides of my face. 

“You look so pretty when you gag on me Princess.”

I hummed around him in pleasure, toying with his balls again, begging him to cum in my mouth.  Hearing him moan just made me more of a mess. 

He tugged on my hair slightly, “No way, I’m cumming on those pretty tits.”

I smiled up at him and wiped off my mouth. Spencer caught me in another kiss, this one much more loving and tender than the previous ones. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek. 

His free hand came between my bodies in the same move I had used on him, this time his lithe fingers rubbing my clit lightly, but only for a moment. 

The kiss deepened into a full on teenage make-out, our naked bodies grinding against each other. I had never been so desperate in my life, wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands were on my ass, pinching and squeezing. 

“Touch me,” I begged between kisses. 

“Lay down Princess.”

We swapped positions again and I moved up the bed to lean on some pillows. 

He kissed me, hand moving deftly to my aching core. He took the tip of his middle finger and swiped between my lips. 

I shuddered at the touch, but it was taken away so quickly. 

He leaned to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as he placed that same finger in my mouth. I sucked on it greedily, “So wet for me already Princess.”

He nipped at my ear lobe again, causing me to buck my hips up at him. He put his face just over mine, looking deeply into my eyes as he took one finger and put it all the way in. 

I groaned happily at the contact, closing my eyes to savor it. 

“Eyes open. Watch me.”

I opened my eyes, just as he added a second finger, curling them to find my g spot. I opened my mouth to moan but no sound came out. The pleasure of him in me was rippling throughout my touch-starved  body. 

“More Spencer, please ah- fuck- more!” I yelped. His free hand came up to my breast, kneading it and my nipple again. I moaned louder, more guttural this time. His fingers never stopped even as I clawed at his skin. My nails dragged along his back and my eyes never left his. 

If my eyes looked anything like his, then they were clouded with lust and immense pleasure. 

“Spence—“ I gasped as he added his thumb to circle my clit. 

It felt intoxicating, like I was high on all the drugs at once. The vision of his perfect face went black at the edges, that feeling I missed so much forming in my stomach. He’s the only one who could give it to me.

“Use your words Princess,” he cooed, flicking his tongue between his lips. 

“D-Don’t stop I’m close.”

He took this as a signal to go faster, his hands moving in ways I  didn’t think possible. His thumb rubbed rough figure eights over my clit that was slick from my own wetness. When my breathing quickened and I tightened around him he knew I was close, leaning in to kiss me gently as I rode out my orgasm. 

I moaned loudly into his mouth as the rubber band snapped, tingling and pulsing around his fingers.  He coaxed me through it, milking me for everything I had. When he removed his hand and licked me off of his fingers, I whined. I needed something to fill me up; I  needed him to fill me up. I felt so empty without him there. 

“Want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, his hands coming up to brush the hair out of my face. 

“More than anything,” I managed out, still feeling delirious from the first orgasm. 

“Your wish is my command,” and with that he placed his tip inside of me, moving slowly to allow me to adjust to him. 

“Ah fuck,” we both groaned simultaneously. 

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, finally filling me to the hilt and waiting for my signal to tell him to start. 

“Fuck me, Spencer Reid, fuck me like you mean it,” I burst, and he did. 

At first he started slowly, only moving a few inches in and out. I jerked my hips up, wanting to feel more. He thrusted in and out of me wildly, his hair bouncing with every motion and sweat dripping down his face. 

I relished every movement, using my hands to tangle through his hair and my lips to suck on his neck as he leaned over me. He withdrew almost completely, then pounded back into me, the pain causing me to hiss. 

The room was filled with primal, animal-like moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I reached up and put two fingers in his mouth, which he licked with gusto knowing exactly what I was going to do with them. I mimicked his rough figure eights on my clit, wanting to cum with him. 

“I’m close princess,” he panted, “Can I cum on those pretty tits?”

I just nodded, unable to find words as we climbed the mountain to our orgasms together. After a few more strokes he pulled out and brought himself to his orgasm, cumming all over my chest with a sigh. He flopped down next to me, overexerted. I continued circling and my own orgasm came seconds later and much less intense than the one he had given me prior. 

Spencer stood up and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the fluid off my chest. When I was cleaned up I snuggled up against him, face to face. 

“Are we going to talk about this?” He panted, still regaining his breath. He gingerly moved some hair from my face.

I sighed, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you?”

He smiled, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you too, Princess?”

Saying those words again took the weight of the last three years off my shoulders, but deep down I still had doubts.

“We won’t work.”

My voice cracked and tears were threatening my eyes.

He kissed my cheek, and pulled me against him, “We don’t know unless we try and I promise to be less infuriating this time, Princess.”

I turned so our lips met, “So let’s try.”

[know-the-way]

Analyzing Canon Spellwood Moments For the Lolz: Part 3

Okay, so I was definitely trying to keep these in a semi-chronological order, but fuck that shit - we’re just gonna talk about the bits we wanna talk about when we wanna talk about ‘em.

Specifically, today - I wanna talk about these:

1. Lavish.

Alright, so I think this is mainly just a Zelda-Being-Endearingly-Extra moment for a lot of us and I love it for that alone. However, there’s also something really intimate and sexy about this to me. They’re both turned towards each other (*Cher Horowitz voice* that’s an unequivocal sex invite) in such a casual, familiar way. It’s two of the most rigid characters appearing so relaxed… and it just happens to be with each other, after a particularly poignant exchange of looks at the end of the play. It’s all of a half second, but so much is conveyed imo - there’s a domesticity in how casual they’re acting, a comfortability with one another - but also a palpable tension because Zelda is still trying to get Faustus to put a ring on it and she’s not gonna give in that easy just ‘cause she teared up a bit (that cheeky little swing of her arm as she puffs on a hookah with a lit cigarette in the other hand… it’s like she’s reminding him that just in case he forgot, she still knows who tf she is 😎).

Also, side tangent, but on a slightly related note - Faustus is in a tux which means they absolutely filmed this the same day as the “exotic dancer” scene at Dorian’s from the episode prior (and the continuity person for the show was like “eh, it’s fine, stay in the tux, Richard”). But in the Dorian’s scene from episode 1, I personally found Faustus to be completely uninterested in the dancer (that he had apparently brought over from another continent for how special her talents were) and that was before Zelda cut him off from sexy times. So… for a known-philanderer… interesting that he couldn’t seem to care less about a beautiful, gyrating lady of the night directly in front of him. Perhaps because he (thought he) already had the lady he wanted? Hmm, probably insignificant tbh, but food for thought.

(Side note to the side tangent - the dancer is called the daughter of Herod, who notoriously wins men’s hearts “and heads,” referring to the biblical execution of John the Baptist. But this further confuses that line Zelda says in the mid-winter’s solstice episode about stealing Leticia because of Faustus’ “Herod-like tendencies when it comes to baby girls.” Like… if Salome the dancer is any indication, Herod apparently produced gorgeous, cunning, and powerful daughters, so… Zelds? What you mean by that, babe?)

2. “Put down the knife… I have what you really want.”

Whew, okay. This is gonna be a long one. I can only view this scene through angst-tinted lenses because of this look from Faustus when he sees Zelda. It is incredibly open to interpretation, and obviously I’m quite biased, but here’s what I take into consideration before Zelda walks in to that temple:

a. Faustus, who plainly detested Sabrina, has willingly served, coached, and taught her for several weeks. It’s the first time he’s ever had any solo interaction with her and, though clearly manic and delusional, Faustus (imo) seemed to genuinely be impressed by her ability to control the void. When Agatha, Ambrose, Roz, and Prudence show up, he proudly proclaims he’s “exalted her” and that she should be worshipped for her ability to control the void. He’s completely insane here, of course, don’t get me wrong and he absolutely has sinister motives still (which Sabrina admits she is fully aware of and has even agreed to) - but I think he also finally saw the something in Sabrina that so many people (her family… her aunt) loved. This young girl is so determined to protect those she loves that she’ll fight with everything she has in her - do anything - to keep them safe. And she’ll succeed, based on that determination alone. It makes sense now… why the girl kept coming back stronger and stronger, no matter how hard he tried to eliminate her. That’s just who Sabrina is - an undying, roaring flame. Truly annoying… but truly magnificent. Prior to that, Faustus demonstrably thought she was a useless half breed who existed only to make his life miserable, but that time of training he had with her… seeing Sabrina succeed at something he knows is next to impossible to do… I feel like there is a possibility Faustus grew a twisted sort of respect for her.

b. Who else does Faustus know that would do the same for those they love? Who else does he know to be that determined, that willful? Oh… right… of course… his wife. In the novels, Faustus admits he loves Zelda’s fire, but also fears it. Sabrina, in a lot of ways, is very much like the woman who raised her. She’s formidable, unconquerable… just like his wife… and I like to think of him having a realization that Zelda is Sabrina’s mother and Sabrina is Zelda’s daughter. Because I don’t think Faustus ever understood just how deeply Zelda loved her. After all, anytime he and Zelda spoke in person about Sabrina, it was when she was in trouble and/or doing something wrong, so why wouldn’t he assume the girl was little more than a nuisance for Zelda, as well? But now… well, he sees just how much of herself Zelda poured into Sabrina and he’s starting to wonder, in quite a worried way, whether or not he may have made several errors.

THUS, when the night arrives for him and Sabrina to fulfill their “dark purpose” - Faustus is potentially riding on the newly-gained understanding of why his wife repeatedly sacrificed herself for her family over choosing him, and by extension, the understanding of where he went so very wrong with her (along with pretty much everything else in his life). But he has to see this through. The Void demands it and even if he understands now, the girl has agreed to it. If he doesn’t rip the void from her himself, it will consume them all eventually anyway, and he’s been past the point of no return for a long time. But as he rounds the corner, knife in hand, and catches the sight of her face… all the wrong choices, all the resentment, and all the regret comes flooding back… and an irritatingly human hesitation comes over him.

Zelda has always been the only one who could stop him. Everyone has a weakness, after all… and for him, it’s always been her. Always. Oh, what they could’ve been if… wait no focus m8, drive the blade through, the terrors are waiting, let’s go, before she can stop you! Fuckin’ NOW dude DO IT!

But Zelda does stop him. Of course she does. With only a word.

And he does as she asks because of course he does. He hates himself for it (hence the frustrated sigh and him averting his eyes), but of course he does. He always has, and despite himself, he bloody always will.

Oh? She has what he really wants, she says? Well, she did him wrong, too, ya know - surely she knows that, surely she’s had the same time to reflect and acknowledge where hiding his own child from him was insulting at best, like-a-knife-to-the-heart deception at worst.

She won’t, though.

And like yeah, he has her daughter at the mercy of a blade right now and yeah, he did loads of other horrible things he’s yet to acknowledge and stuff, but like… she could care about him for once, right dearest? She could care about him like she cares about her family… insane murderous bastards have feelings, too… but somehow deep inside, though she could give him what he’s always wanted, he “very much doubts” that she will.

****And this is where I feel obligated to clarify that I would not agree with the way Faustus sees this situation if I am, in fact, correct with my interpretation here. It’s just an analysis of a fictional egomaniacal idiot that is not a reflection of my real life morals, values, and/or relationships. So… calm yer tits. :)

That’s it for this edition, with the intention more to come. Thank you for tuning in, take care of yourselves, hydrate, wear your masks, love to your mum! K bye! xx

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 19/?

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note:

Warnings: Mentions of the court system, fighting, swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

 Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Time Skip lol, February, next year. Finals.

She and Jason had been together for 6 months around February. When finals started coming up. The distance and tension between the two was fucking palpable. They hadn't fought or anything, but the stress between them had caused a slight riff. They just had space to focus on their studies.

They would see each other at work. She was his secretary. Everyone, all their friends, even their families, swore they just needed to bone. Which, considering they both heard about this from Bruce first, didn't mean they wanted to do it.

If you had asked Y/N, she would have said she wasn't dressing for Jason. But that was a lie. She was tempted to go with the advice everyone was giving them, especially before they went into their first finals exam. She walked into his office.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, I'm your secretary. Seeing if you need anything."

"I don't."

She turned to walk out.

"That doesn't mean you can walk out."

She smiled to herself, "Alright." She sat on the chair in front of his desk, "I won't walk out."

"Mhm."

She frowned, he didn't even look up from his computer. "What do you want me here for, Jay?"

"Close the blinds on all my windows, baby."

"It'll become dark."

"Good."

"Your eyes will fry from the light of your computer."

"Trust me, they won't."

"Uh-huh," she doubted as she closed the blinds.

Jason walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder. She smiled and leaned her head on his.

"Exams fucking suck," Jason said.

"Couldn't have guessed from the riff in our relationship, really? You don't say?" she sarcastically retorted.

"It's not like we had it easy this entire time, either."

"Fuck you don't say? At least my attacker was admitted to Arkham and my friends got out."

"Can't catch a break," he paused because his buzzer went, "Can't catch a fucking break!" he exclaimed, exasperated. He went and answered it, "Jason Todd, who's using Y/N (Last Name)'s buzzer," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Hey, it's Dick. You two aren't fucking right, B will be pissed."

"Shut up. We aren't. What do you want."

"Someone's pissed. I need paperwork."

"Come and get it."

She crossed her arms and laughed when Dick entered the room. She slightly waved. He slightly waved back.

"You know, you two should bone. But not here," Dick joked. He walked over to one of the many, many filing cabinets to search for the paperwork he needed.

"You're really just riding the wave into Jason running you down, aren't you?" Y/N said.

"Well, we're always up for sparring."

"It probably won't be sparring, Dick. You know your brother. He's staring daggers into the back of your head."

"For Valentine's, I'll be giving Barbara the stress of taking care of me after Jason beats me to a pulp."

"At least you'll get one last Gala?" she joked.

"Will you be coming?"

"She will," Jason said.

"Amazing. Don't fuck on the dance floor," Dick joked.

"Fuck you."

"Love you too, Jase," he turned to walk out, "Love you too, Y/N."

"I'll be sure to tell you I love you at your funeral, Dick," she joked as he walked out. She paused before turning to Jason, "Gala?"

"Come, please," he said before going to hug her. "I miss you."

"You see me every day, Love."

"But we haven't been," he paused, "Well, a couple. In weeks. I miss you. The fun one who got me to run down the streets of Gotham on a skateboard."

"Dress code?"

"White tie."

"Dammnit. Guess I'm shopping."

"I'll give you my debit card?"

"I don't need it, baby. However," she joked, "I sure will take it."

He laughed and forked it over to her, "Don't spend my Ph.D. funds."

"I will gladly spend your Ph.D. funds."

"No," he laughed, "Please, I need those."

"I mean if you insist I spend it all," she said, laughing.

"The Gala's later tonight, you can take the rest of the day off."

"Kind of you to do."

"I know, I'm a gentleman."

"Truly," she kissed him. "I'll see you tonight."

"Can I come to get you?"

"Feel free too."

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you," she said before she left the office.

Getting into her car, she fumbled with the mirror a bit. She looked like a mom. The bags under her eyes and the formal get-up for an office job did her in.

They had said "I love you" for the first time around Christmas. She wished she caught the moment where they were fucking around and she just said it.

The Christmas lights surrounded them, hung in the trees. They had gone to see the New York City tree in Times Square. He was setting up a photo to take of the two of them and she just said it.

She could have sworn his fucking eyes lit up with green. Like they glowed.

Reminiscing on those small moments with Jason was something that would make her smile without fail. That man somehow unlocked a new set of feelings, stronger feelings. She was in touch with herself.

She went to her house first, to see how A/N was doing. To see her on the steps. She pulled into the driveway.

"Hey, you good?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I have to go get a dress for a Wayne Gala trademark, do you want to come to help me?"

"Of course I do!"

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

"I guess you could say we didn't narrow shit down about a dress," Y/N joked as she came out in the 16th dress she had tried on.

"Okay, well, that one is the best so far," A/N said, seeming like they finally made progress.

"Wow, this is news, we've narrowed it down."

"Honestly consider it a miracle. Thank God Jason let you go from work early. Are you getting a full day's pay?" A/N asked.

"Probably. I told Bruce I didn't want a full day's pay if I wasn't there, but Bruce said it was in my contract. I think he's just being generous," Y/N said with a sigh.

"Did you not read your contract?"

"I did! That's why I think he's being generous. I don't think I'd forget something like that."

"Watch you did forget those words. You should ask him to see your contract, if he's disobeying it then the board members are probably at his ass about it," A/N explained.

"God, please no. I would hate being a contention point for the board members."

"They probably want you fired. And they're probably mad that you won't be fired because you're with Jason."

"Well, I'm also just a great secretary"

"See, each time you say that I assume it's because you give him a little something-something under his desk every day."

"I'll have you know we've never had sex in that office."

"Did you have sex in another office?" A/N questioned.

"I'm pleading the 5th to any further questioning."

"Wait, oh my god."

"Nope! Going to go try on another dress and ignore you now!" Y/N exclaimed with a joking tone.

"This one's the best," A/N said.

"We're making progress! I'm thinking if I go with this one, I add gloves."

"God, are you trying to give Jason a hard-on?"A/N joked.

"I would like to plead the 5th to any further questioning on the matter," Y/N retorted.

"You're evil. If you're going to be evil, you might as well wear a suit."

"I wish. After all the shit I've been through, I want to stick it to the fucks who keep judging me. I'm already so jeopardized, though. Jason goes through a lot of shit dating me. I'll wear the dress."

"Old white people are old white people."

"Well, Bruce is nice at least. If he's judgemental, at least I don't hear about it on the news," Y/N said and twirled. "Yeah, this one. I like this one."

"I also like that one. There's something about silk. Always gets someone to look like 50 million dollars. Probably worth that too."

Y/N fumbled with the tag, "It's not pure silk, so it's less. Only 1000$."

"Only 1000$? God, that's like our rent."

"Rent is more."

"Well if we weren't in a house it would be the same. That's insane. That's like 3-4 months of groceries."

"I know it's a lot to us commonfolk, but Jason is rich. He wouldn't mind. We might, but he wouldn't."

"Yeah, but do you feel okay with spending that much of his money?"

"I have no idea. We'll see. I'll go try another dress on."

"This is cute," Y/N said.

"Well of course it is, it's probably worth your college scholarship, though."

"God, don't remind me of prices."

"It's hard to forget prices when we're given a lot of money to spend."

"We can't spend all of it!"

"What's he using it for?" A/N asked in a half-joke.

"He's getting a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology when we graduate."

"Okay, okay. So he needs it."

"Yeah, he doesn't let Bruce pay his bills, remember. He's making his own money, minus the working-for-his-dad part."

"Yeah, the working for Bruce part seems a bit counterintuitive."

"If he's getting paid, it doesn't matter to him."

"What's it even like working with his family? Especially with the tension between you and Jason?"

"It sucks. Jason and I haven't fought, yet. We have to act like we aren't fighting. Which makes everyone think we are fighting. Which makes both of us mad. Because apparently," she paused, "The way to fix fighting is having sex, apparently."

"So have sex?"

"Shut up."

"Family on your nerves?" A/N asked.

"They're so involved, but I love them all. I just wish we had a moment alone, I know it's hard to do in a fucking office, but still."

"Go try on another dress. Show up looking like a million bucks."

"You are simply so right."

"I feel like this is the mature version of the black sparkly spaghetti straps one," A/N said.

"It's like you mashed a bunch of words together and suddenly I have to sell you my first-born son."

"Well, it's true!" She laughed, "It's a grown-up version, what someone, old white people, would expect of you."

"Old white people expect a lot."

"Jason's going to be one, one day," A/N joked.

"He's got not-white features," Y/N said, trying to picture his face. There was something about him. Something not-white. She had always picked up on it, but she could never tell what it was.

"Well, it's not like you can ask his mom her ethnicity."

"Jeez, that would be so rude of me to do. Let's just say it's... it's not my place."

"He's got secrets?" A/N questioned.

"Tall, handsome, mysterious. That's my Jason."

"A little bit of everything, all of the time," A/N said in a sing-song tune, specifically the "Welcome to the Internet" tune.

"Don't quote Bo Burnham to me, that album broke me," Y/N joked

"Who didn't it break? Oh, wait, probably Jason."

"He probably sobbed like a baby at it, I don't know where you got the "Emotionless" trope from, A/N."

"Can you blame me? He's a Wayne."

"Those are some of the most emotionally connected people I know? Like, genuinely, they're probably more in touch with themselves than you and I."

"Well, they don't exactly have the reputation for being able to discern their emotions, you know."

"You need to stop interacting with tabloids and their articles," Y/N said, seeming exasperated with the tabloids and the line of conversation. But that was nothing new. She hated the press, the articles, the paparazzi. She hated them all.

"Yeah, probably. You hate them for a reason."

"Do you not know about that time they made it so we couldn't get into our car?" Y/N asked.

"You did, you did."

"Fuckin' tabloids."

"Go try on another dress before you explode from rage."

"Valid," Y/N said, laughing.

"God, if only this wasn't a white tie event," Y/N said and sighed.

"I mean, you could just wear it."

"I will get my ass handed to me, however," she said, taking a picture, "Maybe Jason will just let me get it if I pay him back?"

"You don't have the money right now?" A/N asked.

"I need to get paid and I'll have enough," Y/N explained.

"Don't tell me this is worth more than our rent."

"I will just simply not tell you."

"Girl, you can't."

"Money is dumb and I hate it."

A/N laughed, "Which one do you want to go with?"

"Uh, probably the silk one."

"Temptress."

"I will literally buy and wear a corset to make Jason's life hard to get you off my back," Y/N laughed.

"I implore you to do so for the joke."

"Shut up," Y/N joked.

She still sent the picture of the last dress to Jason off-handedly. Asked him how he felt about it since she knew she loved it.

Why don't you just get it? He had sent back.

Can't afford it.

I can.

Please let me pay you back for this.

Just take me on a date.

I can do that.

You should.

I'll see you soon.

She laughed and grabbed both dresses.

"Jason's buying both?" A/N asked.

"Mhm! I have to take him on a fun date in return."

"You were probably going to do it both ways, honestly."

"You just know me so well."

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

They had gone and gotten the gloves before heading back to their house. Laughing and blasting rock songs the entire time. There was something about the bass running through the car and having the windows rolled down while screaming the songs. It was insane.

One of the songs they blasted was "I Think I'm OKAY" by Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD, switching out the vocals. It was fun to take breaks like that and, just enjoy each other's presence. Especially during finals season, where both of them were stressed because of their respective finals.

Everyone was stressed. Finals did that to everyone. Whether someone was in school or not, they felt the teenagers and college students lose their minds about it.

They got out of the car at their home and took the dresses inside. A/N went to go study in her room while Y/N went to go hang up her dresses. She entered her room and instantly remembered why she hated her laptop.

The laptop fan was deafening, it's why she barely had Jason over at her house anymore. She cleaned it constantly but, it kept going and going.

She brought it to the Wayne Manor over the Winter Break because she had work to do but wanted to see Jason, and everyone, everyone, commented on the thing.

They compared it to a screaming goat, an electronic mess, a horse-powered fan, anything they could put together with electronic, goat and fan, they called the laptop that.

Bruce even offered to buy her a new one, but she declined. She didn't think it was broken, so it didn't need to be replaced or fixed. If it was still in working condition, she was going to use it until it bluescreened on her.

Much to everyone's dismay.

She hated the fucking thing. So if she could drown it out with music, you bet your ass she did. She was grateful that her parents had sent it to her, but she assumed it was because they hated it too. She was right. No one liked that laptop.

She went to go shower. She figured if she fucked with her appearance and hair a bit, then the press would get off her back. She hadn't exactly tried to impress them thus far. But she wanted to just live her life.

She figured doing her hair, makeup, wearing the right clothes, she'd get harassed less. There was a lot of pressure dating a Wayne, she had realized.

She was constantly in the media, somehow she became an idol for little girls in the span of months. It was a lot for someone to take on. She embraced it normally. With open arms normally.

But A/N had told her that she started sleep-talking. Screaming about the eyes, the people watching her. She knew it was probably connected to the stress she was under dating Jason, but she really didn't want to deal with it.

If she ignored it, no one could tell her to deal with it. If she hid it, no one had to see it. She was looking into soundproofing her room so that A/N didn't have to see it.

Was it healthy to do that? Probably not. Probably far from the concept of healthy coping mechanisms.

She got out of the shower and started playing with her appearance. If she ended up with loud makeup and hair after this, she was going to just accept it.

She did end up with pretty loud eyeshadow. But her hair was fine, as acceptable as it could get for everyone judging her. Only nude lipstick that was just two, maybe three shades darker than her skin was what she needed. She kind of overdid the eyeshadow, so it had to be balanced.

Nerves by Icon for Hire was playing in her room. And in a way, that was how she felt. There was a lot of feeling in her, that she wasn't made for the life she was starting to lead. That being an idol was how she was going, but she couldn't do it.

She sighed and put on heels. White heels. It would be easier to put them on before the dress and gloves. The corset came on next. IT wasn't anything special, and she was capable of putting it on without help.

But then the dress.

"She loved that dress, but it wasn't the other one. The other one sparked a little bit of joy in her, while this one just conformed to everyone's opinions of her.

She wanted to wear the other one, so, so, fucking badly.

And finally the gloves. It was an outfit she thought was cute but would be torn to shreds in the media. She knew that.

The media liked to eat her alive.

Part of her wanted a break from it all. The other part wanted to do an interview with the press, to shit-talk all of them and make them weep. She wanted to be the one to destroy them.

Revenge was best served cold though, and the rage was far too hot in her head to even begin a proper essay on why they sucked.

She turned off the music in her room and was greeted with the lovely sounds of her computer fan. Comforting, but hatred.

Jason was going to be there any minute. Was she even ready for a Gala?

They had been through so much.

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

She walked to his car. He brought one of the fancy ones.

"You couldn't just like, own a not expensive car?" she joked.

"Why would I do that?"

She laughed and handed him his debit card, "I don't know, to keep the press off your ass?"

"I think they'd find us no matter what," he said as he backed out of her driveway, "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you, Love. You're as handsome as always."

"Simp."

"Alas, I admit it," she joked as she turned on the radio. "I swear the media is going to have a field day today."

"When do they not?"

"That's fair."

"I'm sorry this school year's been fucking our relationship," he sighed, "We deserve better and a better chance than what we've been dealt."

"Unfortunately that's how school works."

"Fuck school sometimes. Not everyone gets as hit as badly as us."

"It's the psychology teachers. If any teachers are strict, they are."

"We still deserve a break."

"Well, there's always when finals are over."

"I swear we're doing something nice when finals end."

"That's not that hard to do."

The tension in that car was palpable. Truly, you could cut that with a knife. A diamond's edge.

They got to the Gala before anyone, except the Waynes.

"Hey lot," Y/N said.

"Y/N! Glad you could make it!" Stephanie said and pulled her into a hug, "The guys suck, so I like you the most today."

She laughed, "What did they do?"

"They won't play rooftop tag with me."

"Why do you even play that game?" Y/N asked.

"Agility! I'm a track star, duh. I drag them with me."

"Ah, how could I be so foolish," she laughed as Stephanie pulled her towards the other girls. Y/N waved at the boys while laughing. "You do know I have a boyfriend who wants to see me, right?"

"It's Jason."

"Good observation."

"Shut up. I claim you."

"You can't claim me!" she jokingly exclaimed, loud enough for the boys to hear.

"Steph, that's my girlfriend!" Jason yelled back.

"Not anymore!" She yelled as she pulled Y/N into the building.

"Explanation?" Y/N asked, "Do you have an issue or something?"

"I don't. Babs does."

"Go on?"

"Ask her."

Y/N sighed and walked up to Barbara and Cassandra, "I heard you have an issue or something?"

"Yes! You! Okay so," Barbara said, "We're all worried about you and Jason."

"Oh, Jeez," Y/N sighed.

"No no, listen. We can feel the tension. Have you been fighting?"

"I told you before, we aren't."

"Then what is it? 'Cause I'm known for being a detective, hello, I'm Jim Gordon's daughter. And even I can't figure it out."

"Probably exams. Exams suck."

"Oh! It's because you're not used to the fame," Cassandra said.

"Okay, Cassie. Listen, it's-"

"It is isn't it!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"Ugh. Yes. Are you happy now?"

"C'mon, it isn't that bad is it?" Barbara asked.

"It is. They've been at my throat with daggers ever since I met Jason."

"Who's been at your throat with daggers?" Jason asked.

"Don't worry about it," Y/N said before anyone could open their mouths and say to the contrary.

"Well, then. Everyone should be here soon," Bruce said. "Wish we had entertainment this time."

"Can't Y/N sing?" Tim asked.

"Uh, yeah?" Y/N said.

"So sing," Tim said.

"Tim. C'mon. Don't do me like this, man."

"Think about it," Bruce said and put a hand on her shoulder, "It could be fun."

She laughed and everyone scattered except her and Jason.

"So, the daggers comment?" he asked.

"Media reference."

He sighed, "You can always step out of the spotlight, my love. Step down, walk away from their eyes but still be in mine."

"I'll think about it."

He took her hands, "You should think quicker," he joked.

She laughed and he pulled her into the ballroom she knew all-too-well at this point. The first time she was there ran through her mind like no one was watching, the beauty in her memory for capturing it like that.

She knew once the pictures were released she'd probably attempt to paint it.

Galas were stuffy and full of people. She didn't like the people aspect. When strangers would come up to her and start talking, she'd get freaked out. They knew her, but she didn't know them.

She wasn't involved in getting to know people high-up in the world. She was a simple secretary who was dating one of the CEOs.

She'd get twirled around by people's sons. Stuck in dances and conversations. She almost always found herself with one of the Waynes after she ran from someone she didn't know.

She did figure if she sang she'd get away from everyone. So, in a fit of trying to get away, she found her way to Selina.

"Hey!" she said.

"Y/N! Are you running again?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you want to sing or something, Bruce said he asked you to."

"He did, and I figured, "Fuck it" so here I am."

Jason came up just as she said that, "Duet?" he asked.

"Now that's an idea and a half."

"You kids, always doing crazy stuff," Selina joked, "Le me see what I can do for 'ya."

"We're really doing this?" Jason asked as Selina slinked off.

"I guess so!" she exclaimed and he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Really saying "Fuck you" to the press today, huh?"

"Well, they're always saying "Fuck you" to me."

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 15 reactions; *nobby nobbs voice* ‘s all gone a bit percychological, sir

 - so from both chapter 6 and now this: rick famuyiwa is incredible at portraying prolonged discomfort and tension (and also at getting din’s endless love for that baby across through the stress of being separated from him. this is the very first episode with no baby in it at all, isn’t it? wow that’s a heartbreaking milestone to reach im crying)

I liked this episode SO MUCH but I had to pause it pretty often and take a breather because it all made me so viscerally uncomfortable on din’s behalf -- not just the armour and having to take the helmet off and be seen for the (almost, ilu IG-11) first time in decades, people keep touching him in this episode when he clearly doesn’t want them to but can’t stop it and it makes me want to claw my own skin off in sympathy, it’s so awful. that’s really neat film making to manage to keep that tension steady almost all the way through!!! 

honestly this episode felt a little bit like psychological horror, with the cheering storm troopers and din in the wrong armour and clearly not digging it and there’s the palpable absence of baby and that ever present dread of being Perceived when you’re not ready for it; everything’s turned upside down from how it should be. and it’s playing with that discomfort both in the main character and in us, the audience, in having the familiar be made unfamiliar and also introducing these questions that shake up everything (that feeling you get of ‘but... if it’s not the helmet, and not the armour, but there’s his face, but we’ve only seen that face once before so it’s still basically new to us, is this... is this still him. is this still Dad’ (oooh I wonder if we’re... sort of getting some of the ??? the baby would be feeling about it too?) we’ve all imprinted on that t-shaped visor like little baby birds, and this was a very clever episode to break us out of that and start to really get used to the thought of him having several faces that are real simultaneously, in a way, and not just a voice. it’s all very smart and interesting and I’m sure I’ll have a lot of incoherent thoughts about this in the weeks to come lol)    

- the actual reason din can’t take off the helmet is that if people were able to see his wide confused puppy eyes they would no longer find it in themselves to send him on long arduous side missions and would help him immediately just so he’d feel better, and that would rob us of like 80% of the content for this show 

mayfeld in this episode: clearly a casualty of this. he literally sees one glimpse of the vulnerability there and then within five seconds goes on to materialize a few redeeming character traits after being a complete jackass for an episode and a half. (I mean. he was 100% still an imperial so I’m a bit ‘hm.’ about how easily especially cara let him off the hook, but with the way it was set up I guess it would have been quite shitty of them to just throw him back in prison so I mean I GUESS. I would be endlessly grateful someone got my awkward bff out of there alive and well too I suppose)

- I actually think din’s sense/integrity of self has gotten so much stronger and more resilient (though probably still quite fragile pls handle with care precious cargo within); if this had happened in the first season I think it might honestly just have killed him (and if it weren’t for IG-11 it probably would have lol)

- can you beLIEVE din is so bad at lying that they literally should plan for contingencies over it fjkasdlhfskajdhfsdj     

- very grateful for the scene with the spear throw that’s basically there to reassure us ‘uh-huh, he absolutely knows how to use it, don’t worry about that part at least’

I want to make a whole post about that fight scene, though, it’s just so GOOD! there’s so much storytelling and characterization in it! even out of the armour din has some real hand to hand MOVES!! he clearly came out of that aching all over, he can barely get back in his seat!!!

- so what I’m mainly taking away from this is that din absolutely cuts his own hair and you know what? he does a good job considering the conditions he has to work under, I love him  

I still find it so goddamn darling that he meticulously maintains that little mustache/stubble combo under there even when there’s every reason to believe no one will ever see it 

I suppose we can also gather that he did not ask cobb about whatever insane feat of magic he’s come up with to avoid helmet hair, but I don’t care looking a bit frazzled and tousled is exactly right for him (he’s so put together when he’s in the armour and a MESS when he’s out of it and I  l o v e  it) 

- boba fett is honestly so fucking hot in this I don’t know what to do with myself haha. he’s so CALM and CALCULATED and COLLECTED in his newly painted armour and he’s GOT THIS and he made that ‘I’ve got one of those faces. one of jango’s many, many, many faces’ joke and he’s so thicc now, he looks like he could easily lift me over his head with one hand and he’s just quietly steady and undramatically supportive and sdalfhsdjhfsa 

- ...din does know who the clone troopers were, right. I mean of course he does. he has to. but does he though. I’m sure he does and just wasn’t thinking. 

- no matter how stressful it was I’m still really grateful that in the end taking the helmet off was something din got to do himself -- it’s under some duress, but it’s still his choice and for the sake of the baby, and almost in two more manageable steps between putting on the storm trooper gear for a different helmet before taking it off altogether. it’s not something done to him by gideon, for example, that would be. so much yuckier and worse. he still has that control and agency intact, even if it’s been tested really hard, and now gideon doing that doesn’t hold the exact same nightmarish power anymore because there’s already a little space opened in din’s mind for different things it can mean, if you see what I mean. I’m not sure I see what I mean actually I just have a lot of feelings haha. so I guess thank you mayfeld for being decent about it and helping him towards that realization that he can still be himself outside these really really inflexible structures he’s set up around himself for like. stability and keeping himself upright for a really long time, and that even someone halfway decent won’t disrespect the boundaries he still has about it at any given moment. man there’s a lot in this episode isn’t there

- the sigh din gave when he saw even more pirates coming and knew he had to get back up... never has a single moment in cinema better captured how I feel about being alive. most relatable man in the world din djarin

- it was really cruel of them to make me listen to din’s dead bleak voice say ‘the child is gone’ again, it wrecks my heart every goddamn time 

- again... I wish carano wasn’t Like That in real life because the cara & fennec scenes should have been everything I could ever dream. ah well fennec was still wonderful and if I just allow myself to think in-universe for a few seconds it was really touching that din would entrust cara with his entire armour, that’s some prime BrOTP energy right there

I love that we got two female characters who were just allies and working together, no competition or nothin’. listen the bar is low but it’s nice to see something actually leap gracefully over it as well lol

- this was one of those with some pretty big open plot holes (why, exactly, would a scan of a completely unknown face be helpful to get into this classified system lol), but a) I don’t care, the emotional storyline was so sound it doesn’t really matter and b) eh handwave handwave let’s say mayfeld programmed that little stick with the good shit and overrode the code saying there needed to be an identity match within the system, it’s all fine 

- I know I joke a lot about this but din really is one of the most relatable characters I’ve ever had. just watching him struggle with eye contact and going pretty much nonverbal under enough stress is like. wow a bit close to home there could we, perhaps, nOT?? (honestly though these are trauma/anxiety things I really don’t see portrayed a lot, especially in protagonists, it’s so odd but healing to see it in a character I love and who’s EXTREMELY competent in many other settings)

- din repeating gideon’s speech back to him word for word (except for the crucial detail that he calls grogu ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ 😭😭😭) and saying nothing else is truly Everything. I’ve said some stuff about din’s deliberate and thoughtful relationship to language in the past and this is such an amazing example of it; he’s remembered that pitch perfect all this time, he’s kept it around in his head and mulled it over and then redeployed it to change the meaning of it completely from dehumanization to love. can you. can you even imagine. and it’s yet another example of his hilarious wonderful petty streak and I can never get enough of it fasjhdfkjalhs    

- din always noticing the children first and foremost Y_______Y (the kids running by is the only thing you see him sort of acknowledge when he’s walking into the covert in season 1 too)  

- please... please I just need him to be able to hold that baby against his chest all safe and sound and okay again I can’t it’s........ hh

NO SEASON END CLIFF HANGER ON THIS I AM  B E G G I N G  YOU 

- I would be having some thoughts about how much space there actually is on slave 1 and what that might mean (do not kill boba again please don’t kill him again), but honestly there’s only ‘GET BABY’ hours in here now, I can’t speculate about anything

[hufflepuffhollander]

apocalypse: tom holland series pt. 3 (finale)

a/n | this is the final part of the apocalypse series (sad face)! i felt it was a strong way to end the story without dragging it out. i definitely got a lil teary eyed writing this so brace urselves! (& thank you to all of the readers who stuck w me through this trilogy, u are greatly appreciated).🤍

summary | a toxic storm that has wiped out most of the world’s population has you taking shelter and fighting for survival with an unexpected ally.

cw | language, a tiny argument, lots of panic, fluff, and truly poetic smut. you’re welcome.

Read Part 2, join the taglist :)

The toxic fog enveloping your car seemed to have a personality; to be alive. It clawed its way up your windshield and clung to the side mirrors, threatening to seep in and join your quest for refuge. It whispered to you as you drove, Tom fast asleep in the seat next to you. Any time the fog started to get under your skin, you could just look over at your sleepy passenger and take a sigh of relief knowing that you weren’t alone; and you had a pretty good feeling that, no matter how much further the world sank into apocalyptic ruin, you would never have to face it alone again.

Driving far down a nameless road on your way to find Tom’s brothers, you heard a distinct grumble come from the sky, a noise you’d been able to go the last two days without hearing. Another low, loud clap of thunder made you yelp, waking Tom up. The sky started to look darker, more menacing...and your heart rate started to skyrocket.

Tom rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Hey, love, what is it?”

“Tom, I think the rain is coming again,” you said shakily, brain too focused on scoping out what neighborhoods were closest to find shelter in. There was no way in hell you would risk bracing the storm in a car.

“Are you sure?”

“Just look outside.”

That finally woke him up, as his eyes went a little wider looking at the state of the sky above you.

“We need to find somewhere to stop,” he murmured, taking the map off the dashboard and turning it every which way, trying to orient himself. “I think there’s a town a few miles north of here- take your next left and follow the road, and hopefully we’ll see some houses.”

The clouds grew larger and more threatening as the seconds passed, your speedometer not able to keep up with your pulse.

“How much further?”

“Just another mile or so,” Tom said, strangely calm.

As he spoke, it was as if someone had thrown a black curtain over the planet, and you had to turn your brights on just to see in front of you.

“Tom, we're running out of time,” you felt your whole body go cold, the warmth of his hand suddenly placed on your arm putting your body in a sort of shock.

“We’ll make it, y/n,” he said, his voice faltering. You saw houses start to appear behind the mist.

“I’m just going to pull into one of the closest ones,” you decided out loud. Tom grumbled in disagreement.

“I think we should drive a little further to the bigger houses up ahead, they’re more likely to have generators.”

You shot him a look of disapproval. “Why would we stay on the road any longer than we have to? I’m pulling over here-”

He spoke harshly. “y/n, do not stop driving.”

You started to panic more as you saw lightning not too far ahead. “Tom, this is absolutely idiotic.” 

“We need to give ourselves the best chance of survival.”

“By driving right into the rain?!” Against your best wishes, you pressed the gas pedal into the floor and continued to move forward.

Once the larger houses started to come into focus, you heard light patters start to hit the metal roof of the van. Tom looked up at the car ceiling, a string of expletives leaving his lips.

“Fuck. Fuck. Tom, it’s raining!” you yelled, gripping the wheel tightly enough so that all of the blood had drained from your hands.

“Just keep driving!”

“We’re going to fucking die!” You made an executive decision to careen into the empty driveway of a nondescript house, but the garage door was closed. “How the hell do you expect us to make it inside now, genius?”

He swallowed hard and looked around frantically. “It hasn’t picked up yet. We can make a break for it...but it has to be now.”

You felt the fear palpably pinpricking your eyes. “Tom, what the hell were you thinking-”

He reached in the back and grabbed his coat, wrapping it around you in your seat, ignoring your comment. “I’m going first so I can knock down the door if it’s locked. Don’t waste any time and run the moment you see it open.”

You didn’t have time to reply before he tossed his hood up over his head, threw open the door, and jumped out of the car, running straight into the rain.

“Tom!” 

You were scared out of your mind watching him sprint to the porch of the house. Right as he made it, he cried out in pain, clutching his arm close to his chest. But he kicked the door in and stumbled inside, falling over the threshold. You felt stiff, frozen, going insane with worry and fear- but if you waited any longer, you knew you wouldn’t make it. You flung open the door, running as fast as you ever had to the porch, Tom’s coat protecting you from the few drops that fell to the ground. Seemingly, right as you were under the cover of the roof, the sky opened up, and once again the world was engulfed in torrential tar.

You slammed the front door shut behind you and fell down to your knees when you saw Tom curled into a ball on the floor. You tried to turn him over as you let a panic attack get the better of you. “Oh my god, Tom, please be okay, are you with me? Tom?!” You could barely see him through the thick tears streaming down your face. After the longest minute of your life he slowly groaned and opened his eyes, seeing you but closing them again as he winced in pain. His arm was still tucked tight into his body.

“Love, I- I got...b-burned,” His face was scrunched and pale as he let his arm fall to the floor, and you saw the atrocity that was at least a two inch circle of burned flesh painted bright red on his forearm.

“Oh god, fuck, Tom, what do I do?” your voice cracked as you continued to cry, completely stuck in place.

His breathing became choppier and his eyes fluttered open and shut again. “I don’t- I don’t know...”

“Baby, don’t leave me,” you lowered your head to his and sobbed, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Please be okay. God, please don’t leave me.”

Truthfully, you had no idea if this was all it took to kill a person. You couldn’t think straight as you heard the love of your life whimpering, his body vibrating softly as he fell into some kind of paralyzed sleep.

You stood up as your body went into hyperdrive, running through the house and looking around for something, anything that might help. In the master bathroom you found alcohol, antibiotic ointment and bandages, and thanked whatever was up there beyond the rain as you rushed back to Tom, still lying on the foyer floor. He was unresponsive.

“Stay with me, Tommy, come on,” you untwisted the bottle of isopropyl. “This might hurt a bit, sweetheart,” you whispered as you poured it out over his wound.

That jolted his system awake and he cried out as it sloshed around the exposed burn. By some type of miracle, the acid clinging to his skin seemed to disperse as the alcohol flushed it out, washing into a sizzling pile on the floor. Tom’s entire body relaxed suddenly, and he took a long, jagged exhale. Careful not to touch the burn, you squeezed the ointment across his arm and wrapped it up in the long bandage you’d found. Tom opened his eyes again, found your worried stare, and his eyes filled with tears of relief.

“Thank-...thank you.” His eyes shut again.

“Tom...” you whispered, putting a hand up to cup his cheek, one of your tears falling onto his forehead, making him flinch. “Are you okay?”

His chest rose and fell a few times, bringing you some semblance of comfort. “I’ll be alright, darling,” he said quietly, resting his own hand over yours. He was eventually able to meet your gaze and sat up slowly, ignoring the pain and moving to cradle you with his good arm. Somehow, it was the tightest, most loving embrace he’d ever held you in.

You wept into his chest as he kissed your forehead. “Love, please don’t cry.”

You brought your face up to his and kissed him desperately, body still shaking. “Tom-”

“What, darling?”

“I- I love you s-so much.”

“I love you too, y/n. I love you too.” He nuzzled your nose up with his own so he could bring his lips to yours again, the taste of him mixing with the salty tears clinging to your face. “Thank you for saving my life.”

You spoke quietly as if the rain would hear you. “I was so scared...I thought you were- I thought you left me.”

“I could never, sweetheart.”

Tom tried to lift up his hurt arm and frowned. “I feel like my body is made of lead.”

“We should get you some rest,” you said, standing to help him up. “There’s a big, comfy looking bed in the master bedroom.” You shined your flashlight around the hallway until you found a candle, and took the matchbook from your pocket to light it. The house was only growing darker, and you knew that soon you wouldn’t be able to see. Supporting his weight as you walked to the bedroom, Tom finally collapsed into the blankets with a contented sigh.

“I’ll go look for some food-”

“Baby, don’t go anywhere.”

You looked at him quizzically, and he motioned for you to come lie with him. “I want to just stare at your beautiful face for a while, is that alright?”

You smiled and crawled in next to him, wrapping the thick comforter around you both and cozying up in his chest. You took a deep inhale to revel in his comforting smell, and he kissed your forehead over and over again, tickling your face. You giggled into him, and he let out a small, breathy laugh.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

You brought your face to his to kiss him tenderly, and you rested your hand in the crook of his neck as you fell into a slow rhythm. You didn’t think you could be any happier in that moment, just to have him back, completely tuning out the downpour coming from outside. You pulled back to look into his eyes backlit by the candle.

“How is your arm?”

“Feels much better now, thanks to you,” he said, moving it slowly back and forth, getting used to the discomfort. “But let’s not worry about me, darling. I want to focus on you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as you heard his tone change. “What are you talking about?”

“I believe I owe you something,” he said, moving to place his mouth right under your jawbone, giving you chills. “You did save me, y’know. You deserve to be properly thanked.”

He moved to support himself with his good arm and lightly rested his bandaged one on your waist, continuing to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Tom, what are you doing? You need to take it easy-”

He shut you up with a hard kiss to the lips, and started to tug down at the neckline of your t-shirt. 

“No, love, what I need right now is you.”

He used his body weight to push you flat against the pillows, moving on top of you and pressing his lips further and deeper into your skin, now wriggling your shirt up and over your head. You started to giggle again, unsure of how to process it. Tom lifted his head up from kissing your belly button to look at you inquisitively. “What?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you whispered, fingers running through his curls.

“My veins are pumping with adrenaline right now, darling, and you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

You tugged at the shoulder of his hoodie to bring him back up to your face, kissing him again and sucking his bottom lip lightly between your teeth, starting to feel the heat rush up through you too. He sat up on his knees and took off his sweatshirt and tee underneath in one fell swoop, his injured arm seeming to be the furthest thing from his mind right now. You couldn’t make out most details in the candlelight, but were able to see the love and lust swirling together in his eyes in some mesmerizing way. Placing your hands delicately on his lower back, you smoothed them over his skin all the way up to his shoulderblades and loved feeling him shiver underneath you. He pulled away from your liplock to stare into your eyes, and you pushed the pads of your fingers a little harder into his back, whispering. “Why did you wait so long, then?”

He rested his forehead on top of yours and smiled through his words. “I guess I was too busy falling in love with you in the dark.”

You had never seen Tom this way, hungrily nipping your skin and letting his hands explore your body as if they’d never experienced touch until this very moment. He left hot paths of kisses and bites across your neck and chest, all the while relentlessly grinding his hips into yours, which you encouraged with your own bucks upward. Eventually, you had your legs wrapped around his bare body, and he gave you the slowest, deepest kiss humanly possible as he eased himself inside of you, both of you shuddering at the feeling.

“Tom-” you inhaled sharply and would’ve done absolutely anything to have all of him just then, rolling your body upwards into his. His ragged breaths were drowned out by the sound of the violent rain falling above you, but you had become an expert at hearing his voice through the noise. 

“I’m so...fucking...in love with you.”

He continued to slowly push into you, his body shaking underneath your grip more and more with every bit further he felt himself go, lapping at your mouth with his own. He refused to break eye contact, and his glossy stare sent you reeling, only able to breathlessly speak a few words back.

“Show me.”

Your toes curled, you aimlessly pawed at his back. He sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, the shadows of your bodies intertwined flickering onto the walls. He fucked you slow and hard, with every thrust sputtering out sweet nothings into your ear. Every twitch and flex of muscle you felt through his skin just made you fall deeper into a state of bliss, and you swore you had never felt a love like this before.

Through lofted breaths, Tom moaned in time with you rhythmically gasping out his name. He was littering your neck with bruises, you were carving scratch marks into his back; and you pushed each other over the edge at the same time, sealing in your bond as apocalyptic soulmates. 

He had collapsed next to you, his heart still in full sprint as he pulled your tired, loved-up body into his own, nudging his face into your hair and rubbing aimless circles on your arm with his thumb. The candle was dwindling and the storm raged on, providing an almost soothing white noise throughout the still room, only accompanied by the sound of you existing with one another. You fell into a deep sleep for countless hours, only waking up because Tom was standing over the bed, shaking you.

“Wh- what?”

“y/n, you have to come see this,” he said, hand still clasped around your wrist before you’d even wriggled out of the blankets.

He guided you by flashlight to what you assumed was an office, and you were shellshocked as you stood in front a computer screen, bright with power.

“I found a generator.” Tom smiled brightly, waiting for you to put the pieces together.

“So...there’s power?”

“Babe, there’s connection. My brothers have been sending me messages for weeks.”

Your jaw fell open as you looked at the monitor, sure enough alight with internet, a phenomenon of the past. “Your brothers, they’re... alive?!” You couldn’t find the words as you saw Tom shed a few joyful tears, the two of you hugging and jumping around like excited toddlers.

“We can talk to them, y/n. My family is still out there waiting for us, and in the next wave of light, we’ll be able to find them,” he said through cracks in his voice, happier than you could ever remember him being.

“I’m so happy for you, Tommy,” you kissed his cheek, but didn’t convince him as he could hear the sadness hiding in your voice. He knew you were thinking about your own family, and how you knew you’d never see them again.

“Love, listen to me,” he kneeled down in front of you and you followed suit so you were both sitting on the fluffy rug of the office. “I know you’ve lost so much. But you found me, we survived. And we’ll keep surviving—we don’t have another choice.” You sighed and nodded. “I know.”

“And it’s not the same, I know, but...you have a family now, with me, with us. We can rebuild together, darling. Fuck the storm. No matter what it throws at us, we have each other to help us through it.”

You reached for his soft hand, melting under his sweet ramblings. “...I know.”

“I never thought it would take the world ending to find you,” he said, lacing his fingers between yours. “but I did, and I’ll be forever thankful for that. We’ll be alright now, sweetheart. I’ll live the rest of my life to keep you safe.”

You gave him a knowing nod and sat in silence in the dark of a room that wasn’t yours, listening to the world unravel on the other side of the wall. Your chest flurrying with a mix of hope and heartache, you resolved yourself to understand that this was living now, that you would have to adapt to this new normal. You were petrified of what the future held, but seeing the boy sitting across from you, holding your hand and your heart in his steady gaze, helped you to breathe through the fear. 

The rain had taken everything from you—but it had given you your everything, too.

[metize]

MC x Caesar ((NSFW)) - Sunday Revolution

“We did it… Fuck, we actually did it…” you were out of breath the flames of revolution before you sparked hope in your eyes.

No more mafia supremacy over the town. You and Caesar used the Wolf Gang recruitment power to educate the poorer citizens, in the last months you organized a veritable commune in the forest harboring the less fortunate. Dr. Crow had been extremely helpful and sympathetic with your cause, he took Soh under his wing (haha) as his apprentice and the boy was truly a prodigy of a physician.

While Caesar orchestrated hunts, gathering food for the growing number of members, you handled the academic aspect of teaching people how to read and write. You often sneakily looted the Oz mansion for useful books and other such resources. Caesar himself was your first student, he was a quick learner, and getting praised for doing well always made him grin with pride.

You all knew you had to do something about the current state of affairs in town. The tension within those walls was palpable, even on Sundays, the familias were always a wrong move away from total warfare. They were always more preoccupied with hosting superficial festivals instead of taking care of social-economic inequalities reigning in town.

The Wolf Gang conquered each estate from the familias, their leaders cornered until they could do nothing but surrender. You gathered all of them to the Plaza, the city was burning and there was rubble everywhere. You and Caesar stood up on a vending stand, as a makeshift stage.

“I don’t get how you stay calm in moments people would be trembling in fear” Caesar snickered shaking his head.

“I know that despite the scary surface that there’s a lot of good underneath”

Were you talking about the scene before you or about the man beside you? You smiled knowing it was both.

“This is chaos, what did you do, MC?” Axel said behind you. He felt betrayed, all members of Oz did. You understood their positions, they were in a very comfortable place in the hierarchy and they were your dearest friends. You weren’t planning on dispatching the familias altogether, you couldn’t do it even if you wanted to. You were just going to install a more democratic system, reinvest and redistribute wealth, create programs…

“It’s not as chaotic as you’d think.” You smiled at him. You knew your people. You looked at the dispersed crowd before you, people tending to wounded civilians or extinguishing the fires. You took your handgun and shot into the sky above you, the sound resounding all over the plaza, getting everyone’s eyes on you.

“Friends, today we took the first step towards a brighter future. My name is MC, I'm part of the Wolf Gang and a friend of the mafia." You paused, remembering the speech you prepared beforehand for this very moment "I am a friend, I am not here to be feared. But no revolution takes place without violence. We won't abolish the Mafia, they are important to the town, but we shall give more power to the people." You looked at Caesar, a bit nervous. He was smiling and nodded at you in encouragement. "There will be more councils, democratically elected officials who are *not* from the ruling class. Peace will prevail and every day shall be a fearless Sunday." Applauses washed over the plaza, you could hear your heartbeat loudly drumming through your body. You smiled at the crowd before turning around to face Caesar.

The Wolf Gang leader pulled you closer by the collar and smashed your lips together roughly. Before you could even react he broke the kiss and stepped back to check in the other Wolf Gang members.

Your face went entirely red and it felt as if it was on fire.

"Huh?" You mumbled quietly. You touched your lips, trying to recompose yourself, before turning away descending your makeshift podium and heading to talk to the Mafia.

"So we're not going anywhere?" Axel stared at you dumbfounded.

"Nah, you just need to take it down a few notches." You sigh and smile "The people can't take that much mayhem all week. We need some normal people to keep you guys in check."

You called in a meeting with the families. You spoke with them for a while, explaining your plans, your motivations. The Oz family was not unreasonable, nor were the other Mafiosi in some respect, but you had needed to get their attention, or else they'd never wake up.

You couldn't have done it without your pack. The Wolf Gang was nothing like it used to be, it was still the sought after refuge from the mafia's antics, but its members were reformed and hardworking people. Its leader was always by your side giving you the strength you needed to accomplish your goals.

The day had been eventful to say the very least. It was midnight when you checked the clock in the council room, you had stayed thereafter the meeting going through dozens of reports and documents to update yourself on the current state of the territory situation. 

M"Look at that, my little prey all by herself with nowhere to run" Caesar entered the room locking the door behind him. You looked at him and smiled. He sighed disappointedly. "Can you at least pretend to be scared?"

"Oh no, the big bad wolf has caught me" you feigned terror, it wasn't your best performance. "How come you manage to face Hamelin himself but you can't face me after finally kissing me?"

"Finally, you say." He smirked at you. He had made your way towards you, now towering over you as you still sat in your chair. "I had to leave or else I have no idea what else I'd have done to you."

"Huh?" As you finished saying that his lips were already on yours.

He kissed you roughly almost forcing your mouth open to accept him in. Not that he needed to, you responded in kind, fully submitting to him. He pulled away glaring at the council table, he pushed off all documents spilling them all over the floor before taking you in his arms and placing you over it.

“You looked so hot up there spewing all that shit about freedom and democracy” he murmured into your ear, his hands caressing your thighs as he slotted himself between them. You giggled at his words, embarrassed.

“You’re just making fun of me at this point.”

“I’m serious.” He said and went in for another kiss. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms behind his neck, he growled inside your mouth and bit your bottom lip. “I wanted to ravage you right there, against that damn tower” he moved his mouth to your neck kissing it and biting it in equal measure “right in front of those mafia guys” he gripped your thighs harder, pulling you closer.

“Ngh Caesar…” you groaned as he groped your clothed chest while his other hand caressed your inner thighs close enough to your core to send shivers down your spine.

“They’d be so fucking jealous, knowing you belong to me and me alone.�� just saying that made him grin despite himself. You were aware by now of how possessive he could be towards you, since day one he’d been calling you his prey. He swiped a finger over your clothed pussy, you moan dissatisfied trying to push towards him. But he held you by your hips so you couldn’t move. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Caesar… I’m yours-”

“Damn right you are.” He smirks and gets on his knees before pulling up the hem of your dress. He made quick work of your panties discarding them just like the documents splayed on the ground. He was kissing your inner thighs and you could feel his breath in between your legs making you shudder with anticipation. “Ah… my prey I’ve been just dying to eat you up.” He looked up at you smiling as he slowly parted your lips and carefully stroked your clit with his thumb, you were groaning trying to scoot closer, but the wolf was far stronger than you, holding your hips in place with his other hand.

Before you could complain about his teasing his mouth was on your cunt and you gasped, holding the corner of the council table trying to steady yourself.

“Fuck- Caesar…” you moaned his name, he felt so warm, his tongue playing with your clit and you could feel him starting to enter a finger into your entrance. He was surely trying to make you go insane. His finger finding no resistance he added a second, steadily pressing them against you, pumping in and out. “Caesar I’m-”

And he stopped, the absolute demon he was. “Oh no, not just yet” and his fingers were gone. 

“H-how dare you…?” You groaned in protest

He snickered and got up undoing his pants, taking his cock out. “Want you to come with me inside of you, you can hold it for a little bit.” You’d get annoyed at him if your attention wasn’t somewhere else. He had a knot, of course, he did, your mind was hazy with lust, and the fact that he would knot you made your cunt clench around nothing. He pressed his erection against your entrance, sliding over it a bit teasingly in the cruelest way.

“Please…” you weren’t above begging, you just needed him inside you.

“You can do better than that.”

“Caesar please, need you to fuck me, need you, need your knot, please, make me yours…”

“Good girl,” he said, pressing into you, your pussy wet enough he entered with ease. He slowly pushed inside, stopping a bit when you groaned checking to see how you were doing, you nodded at him to keep going. “Just a bit more…” He bottomed out inside you, sighing as your heat enveloped him. “Fuck… Your tight little pussy is so wet for me, huh?”

You didn’t trust your voice, you groaned affirmatively and he took that as a queue to start moving. You couldn’t help but make noise, despite yourself, he had you edge already with the way he ate you out and all the teasing. 

“Ah… my prey makes the prettiest sounds…” He growled against your ear “If you keep making those I won’t be able to hold myself back”

“More…”

And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t stop to speak and tease you, all that came from his mouth was animalistic growls and harsh pants. He pounded into you faster, his cock reaching deep inside of you, making you moan and grasp his soft white hair. “Caesar, fuck… Caesar, I love you.” You came when you felt his knot start entering you and he kept thrusting through your orgasm.

“Again” he growled

“Aah- I love you… Caesar, I love you.”

“Fuck-” He bit down your neck as he came, his seed spilling deep inside you as he held you close through his spasms. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath.

“Ah- this was a terrible idea, how long are we going to stay like this..?”

“Uh… up to 30 minutes, it’s fine.” He grumbled, picked you up again, and sat in the chair still hugging you close. “I… do too.”

“Huh?”

“Love you, that is.” He muffled his voice against your shoulder. You giggled at his confession. Caesar nuzzled your neck for half an hour, enjoying your scent mixed with his. You weren’t able to walk afterward so he did end up carrying you to your cottage.

[littleoddwriter]

Wounded | Vampire!Roman Sionis x HumanMale!Reader

"oh my god,,,, vampire au with Roman or Anakin? whichever you feel like writing. maybe throw No. 9, 14, or 19 in there? whatever sparks your interest luv" anon A/N: I will also write one for Anakin because why not, lol. Just so you know, there’s another one coming for this request eventually.

summary; Roman and Victor are gone unusually long. When they get home, Roman is hurt - he feeds from you and you tell him that he’s an idiot for endangering himself like that.

notes; TW // Blood; Injury; Flesh Wound; Scars. Vampire AU; Male!Reader; Hurt/Comfort; Vampire feeding from Human; Worship of a scar/Body Worship; Roman’s usual pet names for Reader; Cuddling. 

Sitting in your bed, alone, at night, you had this feeling in your gut that something was wrong. Roman and Victor had been out all evening long already, some kind of business they needed to take care of. You had a habit of staying up until they were back home, when it took so long. It wasn't entirely voluntary, since you just couldn't fall asleep with the uncertainty of Roman and Victor's status looming over you. About two hours ago, you had received a very short text message from Roman, saying that it would take a little longer than anticipated. That's when the worry started setting in. It only grew as time passed. Something had gone wrong, it must have. Making up all kinds of scenarios in your head, you had a hard time trying not to take your phone and call them each repeatedly. Yet, you couldn't do it. What if you endangered them even more by making either of their phones ring, after all? With a frustrated groan, you at least got up from sitting in bed and walked around the loft, trying to walk off the anxiety.

Suddenly, the door to the loft opened, familiar footsteps coming through. A sigh of relief left your lips, as you walked over to the hallway, where the two men would be. When you reached them, you stopped in your tracks. There was blood on Roman. A lot of it. And you weren't sure how much of it wasn't his, as Victor was holding him up, supporting him. Roman was holding his side, where the blood seemed to be frightingly fresh. Immediately, you got to Roman's other side and supported him, too. Then you helped him into Victor's room and onto his bed. He didn't mind if blood was on his sheets and Roman would throw a fit about ruining the fabric on any other bed or chaise longue. Victor went into the en-suite bathroom of his own room. You didn't know if he was going to get a First Aid Kit or did anything for himself. You didn't think of asking either, too worried about Roman. "Roman? Sh-should I call the doctor? Or?" You asked with a shaking voice, unsure of what to do. This hasn't happened before. These two always came out of such things, almost unscathed. Especially due to the fact that they were both vampires and therefore couldn't be hurt too easily, especially by standard weaponry. Their wounds also healed unusually fast. So why was Roman still bleeding, then? Why was he barely able to stand by himself? Why was he so quiet? "No, I'll be fine," Roman rasped. With tears shining in your eyes, you looked over to him in disbelief. "Doesn't fucking look like it to me! Roman, c'mon. Tell me. What can I do to help you? Anything!" You were overwhelmed by this situation. A feeling of utter helplessness and anxiety settled deep into your bones. "Fuck, calm down! I'll be fine, I just need to feed, is all. I'm weakened and wounded. My body can't heal as fast, when I'm hungry. 'Kay? Nothing to worry about, sweet boy." "Oh! Alright, okay. I can do that. Fuck, you could have just said that you needed- Whatever. Nevermind. This is taking too long already," you muttered. Roman grinned, his sharp fangs showing and glinting in the bedroom's dim lighting. You took your shirt off for easier access and then lied down next to him, your neck at the same height as his mouth, so he wouldn't have to move a lot to feed from you. Turning his head, he nosed at your neck, specifically your carotid artery, groaning quietly in the back of his throat. "Don't draw it out, you- ah!" A pained, yet at the same time almost wanton, moan left your lips as Roman finally bit down, sinking his sharp canines into your neck. He inhaled sharply and began sucking. A satisfied groan rumbled in the back of his throat and you moaned again, this time the lewdness of it was palpable. You enjoyed it so much when he fed from you. It was intimate, intoxicating and it felt incredible. When your vision grew a little fuzzy and you felt light-headed, you nudged him gently, yet firmly. He let up, removing his mouth from you with a satisfied sound. Then he licked the wounds of your neck closed, lapping up some of the excess blood around it. After that, he relaxed back into the mattress, sighing. You did the same. Victor came back into the room. He was wearing new clothes and had cleaned the blood off himself. "You alright, Boss?" He inquired. "About to be," he sighed. Roman's guard dog nodded and sat down on the other side of him. He then lifted the bloody shirt up. You could see the open flesh pulling back together slowly but surely. The wound healed up to nothing but a slight scar, which Roman would be sure to hate and you would worship until he didn't despise it anymore. "Looks good to me," Victor rasped and then got up again. You and Roman also sat up and got out of the other man's bed. Then you left his room, to go to Roman and your's own, taking a shower together there. When Roman was cleaned up again, he looked as if nothing had ever happened. Only the small scar, that was now hidden under his silk pajama shirt anyway, remained. Lying down on the bed, you assumed your usual position, where he lied on his back and you were cuddled into him, your head on his chest, your arms around his middle and his arms around your back and your arm. There was no heart beat, nor was there a natural warmth, but his sheer presence was incredibly calming to you. "What happened anyway?" You asked eventually, the question that's been burning on your tongue since the other two came through the door. "Well, to make a long story short - it was a fucking ambush. Apparently we had some moles lurking around in our circles. They've been taken care of now, of course. But that one fucker was about to fucking stab Victor in the back, literally as also metaphorically, and I didn't really think because I only noticed that this fucking idiot was too occupied to notice the guy almost stabbing him. So, naturally, I jumped in between. My first plan was to shoot this guy's hand off, but my gun's been taken by some other fucker, right? Didn't have any-fucking-thing else, other than my body. And I can't lose Zsasz, I just can't. In the end, I was the one being fucking stabbed. Victor immediately slit that fucker's throat, though. So, there's that." As Roman went on about this, you sat up, staring at him with an open mouth and wide eyes. "Are you fucking insane? You could have been fucking killed! Don't do that again, please!" You were a little in hysterics, you had to admit, but fuck, you could have lost him that night and wouldn't have been the wiser until the next morning at best. "Fuck! Baby, calm down, I already got told all that by Zsasz," Roman replied, wincing a little. "Really? Good! And I'll fucking say it again! You're usually so tactical, and like, okay, I get it, this wasn't the usual situation and all that. I get it, but still! Don't just fucking jump in between Victor and a fucking knife! One that is able to hurt you, no less." "Yes, yes, alright, I fucking got it now, too! Fuck, you're even fussier than Victor." Forcefully, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down into your previous position again, wrapping his arms around you. "Quit worrying now, 'kay? I'm fine, I'm home. I won't do it again, trust me. It was a fucking disaster and now I've even got a fucking scar. Ew, not on my fucking body!" You nuzzled his chest and pressed a kiss into it. "Yeah, okay, sorry for going overboard there. I just- got really scared. And don't worry about the scar. I think it's beautiful." A short, dry laugh left his lips. "Hah, right! It's not beautiful, not on me." Shifting a little, you came face to face with his abdomen. You lifted his shirt up, so that the pink scar was visible to you. It was a little jagged, but it wasn't too big, just about an inch and a half long. Then you pressed sweet kisses along the thickened tissue of it, whispering sweet praises. Roman first complained, but quieted down the more kisses you pressed on the scar. He just sighed then, sounding increasingly more satisfied and dreamy. When you've done it a couple of times, you put another smacking kiss on it and looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear. "I told you, I think it's beautiful." "'Kay, you win," he sounded pouty, but his smile was soft, adoration clear as day in his eyes. You shifted back up and laid down your head on his chest once more. "I'm just glad you're okay and safe, now. I was going crazy with anxiety over here," you chuckled softly. "I love you so much." You pressed another gentle kiss into his chest. He was stroking your hair lovingly by then, smiling softly. "I know, my little prince," he whispered. 

[borisbubbles]

13. LATVIA

Samanta Tina - “Still breathing”

THOUGHT I’D NEVER GET UP?

THOUGHT I GONNA GIVE UP?

LOST IN MY WAYS

MANY TIMES BETWEEN

BUTT STEEL BREEDIN’

I’M STEEL BREEDIN’

NOTHIN’ TO REGRET

NEVER LOOKIN’ BACK

Song Analysis

Apparently 13th is the highest my conscience will let me rank “Still breathing” because LMFAO this song is AWFFFFULLLLL. 

Is this take a surprise? Let’s be honest. Samanta Tina does NOT do good quality music, babes. Samanta Tina does whatever the fuck Samanta Tina wants and we... well some of us love her for it I suppose, but I mostly just look at her works, ye mighty and despair. 

So of course when she showed up in Supernova, I was obviously extremely cautious because ‘Cutting the wire’ was so woeful it gave me fucking night terrors. But it looked like she was co-operating with Aminata, so maybe she could channel pure Aiste Pilvelyte and erupt in an outcry of I’M LIKE VVOOLF.

Except, SURPRISE  Aminata was merely the lyricist and Samanta composed the instrumentation herself: A literal chain of camel farts and klaxon noises that served as an amplifier for Samanta Polakova, Feminist Extra-Ordinaire PATHOLOGICAL NARCISSIST SAMANTA DEMON. 😍😍😍😍😍 Lmfao at the entire “female empowerment angle” btw. “Still Breathing” empowers exactly one woman, and that’s Samanta herself . The song’s actual purpose is to give a subtle middle finger to the country that spat her out at least seven times, but she obviously can’t say that out loud so she quickly created some pseudofeminist narrative to cover it up <3

Then 2020′s signature Freak Factor struck and  she won Supernova when her international fans hijacked the internet vote. It totally caught me off-guard, like, Samanta is going to Eurovision? “Do I actually have to... rank this piece of shit song and analyze her chances in earnest?” 🙄 “At least she’s amusingly shit, I guess”

As we all know, most ironic love eventually becomes unironic. I can’t exactly pinpoint when it clicked for me, so I’ll just post the lot of them. SAMANTA GIFS INCOMING:

THE KRUMPING

THE POSTURING

THE WHATEVER THIS IS.

MARVEL UPON HER CRAZY-EYED DESPERATION

BECAUSE SHE’S GONNA BLOOOOOOOOOOOW

LOOKING FOR THE STARS CUZ YOU KNOW I’M GETTING CLOSER LIFE IS MUSIC ~I aM a CoMpOsUr~

Samanta Tina may be famewhore deluxe, but by Daði she does not give A SINGLE FLYING FUCK what people think about her, as long as she gets to do whatever it is she wants to do, and gets to do it in front of as many people as possible. <3 She’s the type of narcista who pursues attention not because she thinks she’s better than everyone else, but because she wants to be an inspiration in the lives of as many people as possible. 💫 

In sum, I love Samanta for her fucking Samantaness, and since “Steel breeding” is the most evocative of her signature components (defeaning loudness, palpable egocentrism, pretentious locomotion, insane asylum energy), I am obliged to love it too by default. 😍

Europe had better be ready because A BLOOD MOON WILL BE RISING and... omg 😍 I cannot wait to get to ranking that, somewhere near the end of April 2022. (lol I realize this post will go online AFTER ‘The moon is rising’ has been released but can’t be bothered changing it, chickens!!)

NF CORNER

Supernova 2020 really feels like an EXTREMELY distant memory that I only have vague recollections on, so I suppose I’ll cover the three entries I can remember liking?

MADARA - “Maras Zeme”

EPIC HIPPIE QUEEN <3333333 I had completely forgotten that 2020 had a few CRAZY ASS environmental fundie anthems, channelling pure Greta Thunberg from every orfice. “Maras Zeme” is less insane than some of the other green garbo ahead of us (“Pich” 😍  “La-Ley-La” 😍), but Madara suddenly swerving into English, lecturing us on how MOTHER HAS CARED FOR US is a fucking wig-snatching moment that should have earned her a spot in the finale line-up WTF!!!

Katrina Dimanta  - “Heart beats”

The cute chubby member of Aarzemnieki showing up in a folk version of Emiliana Torrini’s “Jungle drum” 😍 and of course Katrina effortlessly won the Latvian-exclusive televote because Latvia were *never* picking Samanta without her crazed stans hijacking the app vote. 😍

ANNNA - “Polyester”

Samanta almost completely passed me by in Supernova because I was (and still am!) a committed member of #TeamPolyester. Socially-conscieous Dutch queen with an anti-sweatshop anthem. 😍  And despite the obvious gimmick subject, surprisingly competent too as a standalone indie song? Let the Annna gifs commence:

SO PRETTY! NO PITY!

TEE SHIRTS IN ALL THE COLOURS NEED MORE WHAT WILL I WEAR NEXT SUMMER?

NEED MORE, FANTASIZE,  HEY NEXT SEASON TIME TO BUY

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

The ‘Samanta Tina Tale of Many NF Fails’ is something I would LOVE to recap now, but given that another Samanta write-up is inbound for April, I’d rather wait until then, lol. However, I do love how Samanta’s 37 participations in Supernova, Dziesma and Eurovizijos Atranka, made her enough of a cult fave to win a Supernova which was not only set up for her to win, but she would have LOST had it not been for the internet vote. 😍 Add in the inherent Samantaness of her being, and you have a serve of High Adrenaleen:

Score: 5 Senhits out of five. 

[fernnette]

fern’s (obnoxiously long) list of ships and otps—in absolutely no particular order, okay?

Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz

This one should be obvious to ANYONE that has sought my trash blog out. You’re probably here because of Find You, so it’s only right that my first ship share is Buddie. Like my heart was weeping when I almost mentioned another ship first. What is wrong with me?

If you’re new to the 911 fandom or have no idea what the actual fuck I’m talking about, you should check it out. I’m a fan. There’s some drama with it that sucks, but otherwise I enjoy the SHOW—just want that fact to be clear...the show...

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley is everything to me. He’s a little baby with a heart of gold and muscles that could crush you, though he’d never do that because he such a genuine person. He’s a self-diagnosed sex addict, loves kids and would die for a certain small child that wears glasses, and knows without a doubt he’s supposed to be a firefighter. He loves his chosen family at the one-eighteen more than anything, and he would do anything for the people he cares about. If there’s one person he’d sacrifice for over and over again, it’s Eddie. Thank you for your service, Firehose.

Edmundo ‘Eddie’ Diaz is dripping in charismatic, single-dad, I’m-a-Top energy twenty-four-seven. He’s hardened and guilt-ridden, maybe a little lonely in his perils as a single father, but he would do anything for his son, Christopher, which he proves time and time again. He’s a proud man with a past that’s shaped him into the man he is today. If you asked him, he isn’t saving Chris. Chris is saving him. He’s not the hero. Christopher is, and always will be to him. He’s made a home at the one-eighteen with his chosen family, and if there’s anyone he’d sacrifice for aside from Chris, it’s Buck.

Just best-fucking-friends, my asshole.

Fucking lovers, okay? These two are... Okay, you know when you read or watch a good friends-to-lovers trope, and it just flows so well. It’s natural and real, something palpable that you can’t imagine ever being another way. Buck and Eddie are like that. Such a natural progression from friends to best friends to lovers. Their lives are so intertwined and cemented together that it’s just right.

In season two, we see that ‘bromance’ come to life. Buck is fresh from a breakup, and Eddie is still mourning his crappy marriage thats kind of in the air. It’s almost like two magnets pulling together. Buck just throws himself into Eddie’s life, helping him care for Chris and being there when everything goes to shit.

In season three, it’s almost like catalyst that propels their relationship into canon for me. Like in season two we see that foundation being built. It’s realistic and necessary as they’re both grieving the loss of a relationship. But in season three, there’s tragedy and anger and raw emotions. There’s hurt and pain. Season three we see the beginning—the love they share for Chris, the trust between them. Then the eye of the storm—the lawsuit, the hurt feelings, the anger, the rawness of not having each other for the first time. Which is so necessary honestly. Relationships are hard, and more times than not, there is that hurricane of fucked-up-realness that humbles the parties involved. It comes in, throws things around,a nd disrupts the perfect harmony you’d gotten comfortable in.

The fighting storyline... I won’t say much about it. Just that it seemed...fitting. Eddie has a lot of anger. It doesn’t make sense for him to just fester with it. Maybe it was a little out of pocket, but the aggression he felt was fitting to the story. Thats what I liked, I guess.

Eddie Begins... listen to me, goddamn it! If Tim thinks for one fucking minute that Buck screaming and trying to dig Eddie out with his bare hands isn’t a segue way to love, i dont know what to fucking tell you except stop with the fucking baiting. Yes, totally think it’s right to be upset, but Buck was DIGGING WITH HIS BARE HANDS like a madman! I will never be okay. I cried. I wept like the fucking Buddie whore I am, okay. If you think Buck isn’t in love with Eddie or well on his way, you’re batshit insane and need to be committed.

IT’S THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF THINGS.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk. This post was not supposed to be like this, but I got carried away. I’m not fucking sorry. I’m passionate. Jump off my dick.

[chibinightowl]

Chibi! Stay safe! I hope your doing ok after surgery. I’ve been missing you and your writing. And thinking about reading Tuesday Nights again. (You know my love...) but! I come with a prompt from the random section as directed. 11. “You’re insane,” “You love me,” “Not right now I don’t.” As far as pairing goes, I’m open and I’m totally ok with Jacob/Skye

Sorry it took so long to come up with something for you! I've had this for far too long. Since you said you're open to pairings, I'll go with what I know is a favorite of yours that I don't write often enough-- JayDick! (I'm also attempting something else I still get flack over screwing up 😉)

---

Consciousness was slow in returning. Dick swam in a murky semidarkness, aware on some level of voices around him and tender hands caring for his damaged and broken body. Pain was an old friend and when it became too much to bear, he sank beneath the waves into deep slumber.

When he finally opened his eyes, this time without the haze that had haunted his dreams, it was to a dimly lit room. His room in fact, the one at the manor. An old circus poster hung on the wall opposite the bed, a warm welcome that never failed to sooth overwrought nerves. Sighing, he shifted slightly, turning his focus on the damage assessment.

If he were being honest with himself, he's actually rather surprised to be here. Awake, that was.

A hand gently touched his shoulder, warm and familiar through the hospital gown. "Welcome back, Dickie."

Jason.

Sighing again, Dick tried to turn his head and found he couldn't.

"Don't," Jason warned, tapping the stabilizing brace around Dick's neck. "You broke it. Amongst other things."

Vaguely, he remembered being tossed aside like so much garbage, slamming into the wall with a force that should have shattered every bone in his body. But it was too late. He'd already triggered the self-destruct protocol, assuring victory and saving the lives of everyone on Earth.

Stupid aliens.

"Hi," he managed to rasp out, tongue feeling like sandpaper. "Ice?"

Jason leaned in, a cup of ice chips in hand already. Catching Dick's eyes, he made sure he caught his own eye roll as he gently slipped the small cube between chapped lips. "Someone's far too familiar with how this goes."

Dick sucked on the ice before replying. "Pot meet kettle." He opened his mouth wider for another and Jason obliged, this time with a larger piece.

"I suppose you want the damage assessment."

Since he couldn't move his head and his mouth was full, Dick blinked twice for yes.

"Broken neck, multiple vertebrae fractures, and each and every rib is damaged in some way. Shattered right knee, a compound fracture of your right thigh, and a broken pelvis. We still have no idea how you're even alive right now. Donna saved your dumb ass, so Bruce thinks she did something godlike and isn't talking about it. Must be nice to have a demigoddess as a best friend."

Dick was pretty sure his eyebrows were making friends with his hairline right about now. Casting about, he took in the large, open cast that pretty much took up the entirety of his right leg. He couldn't feel a thing, but whether that was from the pain meds or... His mind shied away at the thought and he glared at his visible toes. Determinedly, he attempted to wiggle them.

The big toe twitched, and the other little piggies started to do the same.

"Thank fuck," Jason breathed, the relief in his voice palpable. "We weren't sure if--" He stopped, but Dick knew what he meant.

They hadn't been sure of the damage to his spine and the extent to which he was paralyzed.

"Move the blanket?" he asked, wanting to see his other foot.

Jason rose slowly, stiff as he made his way down the bed to tug the blanket off. He'd been fighting too, Dick remembered. They all had.

"The others?" he prodded as he turned his attention on his left foot.

"No one died," Jason replied bluntly. "Except for you."

"What?"

"You coded on the operating table three times."

Dick closed his eyes, not wanting to see the pain on Jason's face. It was bad enough to hear it in his voice. "I did what I had to," he said. "You would have done the same thing if you were in my place."

"I know." Jason slid the blanket back up, covering both feet. The fabric was soft against his skin and Dick silently gave thanks he was able to feel it.

"I'm not sorry." Dick wished the darkness would take him again, wished he hadn't hurt the one he loved most in the world. But he had made peace with his choice the moment he'd decided his course on that ship. He knew the risks and had no regrets.

"I'm not asking for an apology." Jason took his hand and gently stroked the back of it. "But you are insane."

Dick cracked open his eyes again and grinned the best he could. This was a long-standing argument between them. "You know you love me."

"Not right now I don't," Jason scoffed, even if the grip on Dick's hand said otherwise.

"If you marry me, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Jason's gaze shot up to meet his. "Don't. Don't ever joke about that."

"I'm not. Marry me, Jay."

Tears glistened in his lover's eyes, but he didn't wipe them aside. "You're so full of shit."

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes either."

Dick did his best to squeeze Jason's hand, to give him something in this moment. "I'll keep asking until you cave in."

"Put a ring on it and I'll reconsider," Jason offered, swallowing hard. The struggle to keep his usual couldn't-give-two-shits facade was visible along every line of his body.

"Bookshelf, inside my old piggy bank." It was actually an old ceramic elephant but he never cared much for semantics.

Jason's head whipped over to look at the innocent relic from Dick's childhood. "What?"

"I bought you a ring three months ago. Just been waiting for the right time. So. Will you marry me?"

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 3 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Several more weeks and hookups later, Annabeth thinks she should probably come clean. Some people might bury it deep, and for sure, Annabeth’s considered it, but, well. It is kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know Percy’s name at first. Stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her--she’s had nameless one night stands in the past, and despite Thalia’s ribbing, she knows that Thalia doesn’t really care either. It’s just that, you know, he’s Thalia’s family, and they’ve seen each other a few more times, and they are planning to continue to see each other a few more times in the future. Or more than a few times. 

Anyway, she kind of feels like she owes it to him. Like he deserves this small nugget of truth, payment for all the times he’s fucked her blind. It’s nagging at her, and she hates feeling like she owes anyone anything. 

Piper certainly seemed to think so, when Annabeth had told her over their monthly brunch date.

“It’s just common courtesy at this point,” she said. “Like, what if you guys end up married and then sell your story to Hollywood, they cast my dad as the male lead, and it comes out in interviews that you didn’t know his name for like a month? He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous: the movie, Piper’s dad being involved, or them being married.

Anyway, sharing some of her avocado fries, Piper had reminded her that being mean wasn't very punk rock, shutting her up effectively.

She’s out on site in the Lower East Side, taking measurements for plots of land, writing down sun angles and measuring the wind velocity between the brick buildings, when she gets a text from him. 

I’m on a break and I’m starving 😩 Want to grab something to eat?

It’s 2pm on a Thursday and he wants to grab something to eat. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say that that sounds like a real, honest-to-goodness, bona fide date. (Meeting up at and subsequently leaving bars together does not count as a date, she’s pretty sure. Neither do the booty calls.) He’s been getting a little free with his texts, that boy, sending her selfies and memes and questions about her day, and now this? An invitation to their first, actual date? She should block him on principle, just for the sheer audacity.

sure, wya

520 8th, text me when you get here 😁

That’s another thing: Percy loves his emojis. If this is going to continue, they’re going to need to have a serious talk about that. 

She doesn’t need to text him when she gets there; he’s already outside, leaning on the stone edifice of the building like a particularly jacked rent boy in his tight t-shirt and broody look, cigarette between his fingers. The sweatpants sort of ruin the image, though. He looks particularly comfortable in a way that warms Annabeth right from the inside out. “You know, when Nico said you smoked, I honestly didn’t believe it.” she says, not even bothering to say hi. 

He looks up from his phone and smiles, the sun behind his teeth. “Hey!” 

“Hey, yourself.” She doesn’t even hesitate--she plucks the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it herself. “You been smoking for a long time?”

“Who do you think taught Thalia how?” He raises an eyebrow, bemused. “Is that a problem?”

It is, but it’s not like she can tell him that without losing some of her credibility. “Wouldn’t smoking fuck with your cardio?”

Percy shrugs, conceding. “A little. I used to be a lot worse, but I just can’t quite kick the habit. It’s mostly a stress thing, anyway.” 

“Rough practice?” she asks, putting just enough effort into her lip wobble to make it abundantly clear that she’s making fun of him. “Were the other boys being mean to you because of your tights?”

He grins at her, saucy. “Annabeth Chase, do you really think that NYCB rehearses here? In the Garment District?” But he laughs before she can stammer out an answer (and thank God, she’s lived here three years and can barely keep the boroughs straight, let alone the neighborhoods). “I just wrapped up teaching a class. I don’t have to be at rehearsal until 5, I was thinking we could hang out? Bryant Park?”

A first date at the New York Public Library. She almost hates to admit it, but Percy Jackson might be kind of her dream man. “I believe I was promised food,” she sniffs, but she does hold out her hand, and when he takes it, lacing his fingers through hers, she’s sure that he can feel her heart beating, palm to palm. 

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on a bench in the corner of the green, Annabeth halfway into a ham sandwich and Percy juggling a salad and an iced coffee. He’s been regaling her with tales from the more exciting side of ballet, a side she hadn’t even imagined could actually exist. “So by the time I land in Paris,” he says, taking a sip of coffee, “the guy’s foot has swollen up to, like, twice its original size, and when I finally managed to find some wifi to check my phone, there’s, like, eight missed calls from my mom and my agent, and an email from her that just says ‘READ THIS,’ in all caps, and of course the article is in French, which I didn’t really speak at the time, and I was so stressed that my ADHD made it so I couldn’t even read the Google translation, and I had to ask someone to translate it for me.”

“Oh my god,” she says, struggling to keep it in.

“And that’s how I found out that I’d been moved up to first cast in Le Corsaire, from the poor barista at a coffee shop in Charles de Gaule!” He laughs. 

“That’s insane,” Annabeth says. “And the show was the next day?”

“It was that night! I had to haul ass to the opera house and get warmed up, because I was going on in about four hours. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s faces when I stumbled in, I’m sure that they all wanted to kill me.” Percy chuckles, taking a bite of leafy greens. “Now I wasn’t just the twenty-year-old upstart American, I was the twenty-year-old upstart American who skipped town when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“How did it go?”

“Killed it, of course,” he says, deservedly smug. 

Despite her best efforts, she’s absolutely entranced; he’s a great storyteller. “I bet you break that story out at parties all the time, don’t you.”

He laughs. “Whatever gets the donors to open their checkbooks, right?”

“I can’t believe you lived in Paris. I’ve always wanted to see it.” She’d had a few chances to when she was in college, the semester she’d studied abroad in Rome, but she just never got around to it. Just another item on her long, long list of regrets, placed somewhere between the sketchy burrito from last week and not telling her mom to fuck off earlier when she’d had the chance. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Percy shrugs. “It was amazing, I won’t lie. But towards the end I just really, really missed it here. All my family is in NYC, you know? My mom, step-dad, and my sister live here, and Thalia and Nico and Hazel, too. I tried to come back and visit whenever I could, but being away from them was really hard.” There’s something soft and inviting in his expression when he says, “I’m really happy to be back home.”

“What are they like?” Annabeth asks. “Your family. Your non-mob family, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes, but he grins another one of those blinding grins, too. “My mom is the most amazing person you will ever meet. Not only did she support my dance habit, she did it as a single working mother who had to raise an angry, ADHD asshole of a son who didn’t always appreciate her. I don’t even want to know how many hours she had to work or how many scholarships and grants she had to track down in order to pay for me to go to SAB, but somehow she made it work, and managed to write her novel at the same time. She married my step-dad the summer I turned sixteen, and my baby sister was born the next year.” 

Even Annabeth, cynical and black-hearted as she is, has to smile back. The love he has for his mom is so palpable, so tangible, she can practically see him glowing. “And the…” What had Thalia called them? “The ‘Cousin Consortium’?” 

At that, Percy laughs, full-bellied, unrestrained. “The name was Nico’s idea. I didn’t really have many close friends when I was a kid, apart from my buddy Grover--he had to wear this really gnarly leg brace and I liked to dance, so you can imagine how much we got picked on--but we were all really close growing up, since our dads were all assholes. They may have left us emotionally scarred, but at least we had each other’s backs the whole time.”

This is a very Percy thing, she’s starting to realize: he can not and will not hold back on his feelings. He simply refuses to. Where most guys might try to hide or downplay their affection for their friends, Percy’s is written all over his face. Maybe it’s a byproduct of doing ballet, but he’s so unashamed of his love for his friends and his family and his art, that maybe Annabeth kind of wishes she could be included in that love too, if it always feels this warm and joyful. 

“I think it’s amazing that you guys are so close. I only had the one cousin when I was growing up, and we didn’t really talk all that much,” Annabeth says, almost without her permission. Something about him, it’s just so easy to talk to him. He makes it safe to open up.

“The med school guy, right?” 

Annabeth nods. “Magnus. Fifth generation Harvard student. We’re all very proud.” 

Ugh. Even she has to wince at the false cheer in her voice. Percy gives her a half-smile, sympathetic and soft. “Harvard not really for you, then?” he asks, picking up the threads of a long and complicated story, and one that she absolutely does not want to get into right now. Or ever, if she can help it. 

“More like I wasn’t really for Harvard.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had been good enough for the university in Cambridge, Mass--good enough for two degrees and graduation with honors--but she had never been good enough for her mother’s capital-H Harvard. Never good enough for her mother at all, really. 

Percy takes her hand. His fingers are cold from his iced coffee. “Hey. It’s their loss,” he says, with a sincerity and an intensity that makes her blush.

Every part of her wants to pull away. His thumb is rubbing against the joint of her finger, soothing and sweet, and she thinks she may break out in hives from it. “Damn right it is,” she mumbles. 

He is so nice. So nice and hot and sweet. Objectively, what she’s about to do is a terrible idea, and might torpedo a really good thing that they have, but if she doesn’t come clean now her own guilt is going to drive her insane.

“Okay, I have a confession to make.” Percy raises his eyebrows, slurping the last dregs of his drink. “When we met… and then when we hooked up the first time… I may have… thoughtyouwereJason.”

He blinks. “Pardon?” he asks, mumbled around the straw.

Annabeth buries her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You… thought I was Jason?”

“Well,” she sputters, glaring at him through her fingers, “you were being all bro-y with Thalia!”

He is valiantly trying to hold in a smile. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you my name that morning.”

“I was really hungover,” she whines, “and you were shirtless and making breakfast so I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

“For a whole week?”

This is so embarrassing, why couldn’t she just keep her stupid mouth shut? “Yeah.” She slumps her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely sure what she expected: at best a couple of weird looks and a tentative promise to meet up later that would end up not working out, at worst she thinks he’ll just get up and leave her here at Bryant Park. Either way, they’d be doomed to months of awkward interactions, until eventually they wouldn’t be able to be around each other, and Thalia would have to pick a side--and Annabeth’s seen what Thalia does to people who cross her family. She’s seen Thalia beat a dude to pulp for calling Nico the f-slur. Picking Percy over Annabeth? That’s nothing.

So when he starts laughing, Annabeth is completely at a loss. Slowly, at first, then all at once, he’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and he has to put down his salad so it doesn’t topple over onto the grass. His head is tilted back in joy, the grey, late afternoon light adamant that Annabeth can see all of his features clearly, from his screwed up eyes to his bright, white teeth to the single dimple in his cheek.

Of course, even his laughter is hot. Asshole. 

“You thought I was Jason!” He shrieks.

Annabeth crosses her arms, scowling. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he giggles. Annabeth can feel her own giggle rising in response, and she ruthlessly quashes it. “I can definitely say I’ve never heard that one before. You do know Jason is blond, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. Besides, you and Thalia look exactly alike.”

He scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. You, Thalia, and Nico are all basically clones of each other.” 

“Okay, Captain Glasses, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth feels like she has to say again.

He cocks his head. “For what? For thinking I was Jason? He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“No, for,” she blushes again. All this blood rushing to her head can’t be good for her. “For sleeping with you when I still thought you were Jason.”

Percy scoots closer to her, throwing her a grin and slinging his arm over her shoulders. Without even realizing that she’s doing it, she settles in beside him like she’s been doing it her whole life, slotted up against his torso, tucking her booted feet beneath her legs. “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” he says, smirking. “You couldn’t resist my charms, even when you thought I was a brogrammer.” 

Annabeth can’t help herself. She kisses him, wiping that smug grin right off his face, and when she finally retreats, after what feels like hours, he looks so dazed she could probably keep calling him by any name she wanted and he wouldn’t even realize it.

After their lunch, they meander for hours, headed in a vaguely southerly direction, holding hands the whole time, a steady, uninterrupted flow that took them all the way from Midtown to Greenwich Village. He tells her about his first day at ballet school; she tells him about her favorite monuments. “There are two architectural environments in America,” she says, ranting, speaking with enough force that she might forget the feeling of his hand in hers, “endless dead suburbia, or cities where every single building is either a concrete or a glass block--and not even Brutalist concrete, just shitty, poorly designed, paint-by-numbers concrete. It is an absolute travesty of modern government that they don’t fund any public works projects anymore.”

“That’s why all the gardens and stuff?” he asks.

“Nowadays everything is built by the lowest bidder. At least I get to add some beauty back into the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Percy says. “Paris is practically overflowing with public works, you almost forget about it sometimes.”

She sighs. “You’re so fucking lucky. Paris is so beautiful and everything in New York is just hideous.”

“Aw, come on,” he says. “Not everything. What about the Empire State Building, or Central Park?”

“Well, obviously, those,” she says, just a teensy bit flustered, but she’s not about to give up the argument without a fight. “I just mean like, normal, every day buildings: offices and apartments and stuff. It’s all so samey and boring.”

He looks to her right, pointing at the building they are passing. “What about this one?”

She turns.

If she had known they were headed this way, she never would have taken them past here.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” she mumbles, staring up at the arched windows, pedimented doors, and Rococo details of Miss Minerva’s Private Pre-College Prep School. A shudder goes down her spine, like someone walking over her grave. “There are better Beaux-Arts buildings.”

Sensing her discomfort, he picks up the pace, and changes the subject.

Finally, he stops outside a nondescript building, turning to face her. “This is me,” he says, a little bit mournfully, squeezing her hand. “Are you okay to get home safely?”

This man is ridiculous; it’s not even dark out. “I think I can manage a few blocks,” she says, lightly swatting him. “Isn’t it kind of early for you, though? It’s only four o’clock.”

He flushes faintly, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Uh, well, I always give myself a little extra time--you know, time blindness and everything.”

“You baked in extra time in case I wanted you to walk me home, didn’t you?” She mock-gasps, secretly delighted. “Scandal!”

“Guilty,” he grins. “You’ve been to mine so many times, I was curious.”

She just barely stops herself from laughing out loud at the very idea of Percy coming to her apartment--as if. Thalia hasn’t even been to her apartment. Nobody knows where she lives, none of her neighbors know who she is, and this is entirely by design. “Cut me some slack; a girl’s gotta have some mystery. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never make things easy for me,” he says, white teeth gleaming.

“You better believe it,” she smiles back. “Now that I’ve foiled your plans, are you going to be too bored?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he shrugs. “I’m very resourceful when it comes to boredom.”

Inspiration strikes, and she grasps his hand, pulling him down the alleyway. She almost hates to admit it, but she has something of a Pavlovian response when it comes to hanging out with Percy. Annabeth has come to expect some really excellent sex whenever the two of them meet up, and maybe spending all afternoon with him has made her a little bit horny. 

She presses him up against the brick wall, hidden from the street by the long afternoon shadows, and kisses him. His hands flounder for a second, before coming up to rest on her shoulders, this thumbs tapping against the base of her neck, fingers fluttering on her jacket. It’s an intimate touch, kind of chaste and very respectful, and he holds her with precision and grace. He wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t want to. This is a date with no expectation of sex on his part. But Annabeth does not want grace right now, spooked by the ghost of her old school. She does not want precision. She just wants him. She just wants to keep him on his toes, keep him interested, blow his mind a little. 

She just wants to blow him, to be honest. 

He squeaks into her mouth as her hands fly to his belt, deft fingers practically ripping it off of him in an increasingly familiar motion. “H-hey,” he says, squeezing her shoulders, “this is--”

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, one hand playing at the top line of his underwear. 

“No--I mean, are you sure? I’m-I’m okay with this, I just want to--”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, then drops to her knees. “But we’ve got some time to kill, don’t we.” 

Afterwards, when she’s finished with him, Annabeth wipes her mouth, and he whimpers. 

“Ho… holy shit,” he pants, flushed and trembling. 

She tucks him back into his boxers, doing up his fly. “There we go. That was better than being bored, right?”

He nods wordlessly, swallowing, shaking. His eyes are glassy and glazed, stupid like he’s just shot out his brain through his dick.

In the short time they’ve been together (though, honestly, this might be the longest relationship she’s ever been in before… and they haven’t even broached the “dating” conversation yet) Annabeth has been on the receiving end of several different Percy looks. His face will light up with joy when he first lays his eyes on her, so happy to see her (though she can’t really fathom why), glinting like the sun on the water. His eyes will narrow, glaring, even as he furiously tamps down on his growing smile when they start arguing over something stupid, like Annabeth’s affinity for olives. He’ll grin at her, knife sharp and slanted, licking his lips and looming over her after she comes down from yet another orgasm via his mouth or his hands.

Percy looks at her now like someone took a bat to his head, and instead of seeing stars, he sees little miniature Annabeths flying around. 

He pulls her to him and kisses her, entirely too sweet for what she’s just done to him, but that is also a very Percy thing. And when she leaves him with a final kiss on his cheek and squeeze of his ass, she can feel that look burning a hole through her jacket, following her down the alley and around the corner, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the weight of it at all.

[thoughtsaboutshows]

Can you make a continuation of the fire-drill prompt? Maybe Sabrina’s family pressuring her to marry Nick now that they’re expecting and she has an emotional breakdown?

Sure!  I so totally got carried away and this is over 3k words long...hope you enjoy.  I followed your prompt but didn’t at the same time.  She has sort of an emotional breakdown but not in front of her family.  

There’ll be another part eventually with another prompt in this universe that I was working on.  But anyways here we are!

Sabrina held tightly onto Nick’s hand as it sat in her lap in the car ride the whole way to Greendale for Christmas.  Nick had been celebrating the holidays with the Spellman Family for years now, lacking a family of his own, but this time it was different.  This time they had news, news that would change the course of their whole lives.  But in the very best way.  

Sabrina had done well on all her finals that semester, passing her classes with flying colors, despite being overwhelmed with impending motherhood in nine months.  Nick had managed to stay focused too, acing his graduate level classes and managing to input the grades of the ones he taught on time.  The night they’d found out, Sabrina and Nick abandoned studying for the evening, ordered their favorite Italian food and celebrated with extra garlic bread and sex all over his apartment.  Their love was palpable, so much so it had already created a whole new person, and the baby they’d meet in nine months would be a physical manifestation of the connection they’d had since day one.  

Nick and Sabrina had been discussing the idea of her moving in with him prior to the baby news, planning for it but never setting an official date.  After she had told him, it was a no brainer as to when his place would become theirs.  She didn’t leave that night and never slept a night back at her place.  They moved quickly to find someone to sublease from her and before they both knew it her dresser had been moved into the bedroom and her shoes were taking up more than half his closet.  They didn’t see that ever changing and never wanted it to.  Her heeled boots in every color were a welcomed sight because it meant she was there next to him every night, and every morning.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Spellman.”  Nick asked Sabrina as he snuck a quick peek at her.  She was still holding on to his hand but her gaze had drifted out the window.  Her beanie that she’d worn instead of her headband was slightly off kilter and even though he’d only caught a glance of her profile he could still tell she was deep in thought.  Her furrowed brow and slight frown told him her mind was racing down a negative path.  His voice, soft and sweet, pulled her from her thoughts and she turned to look at him.  She pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow further as she tried to figure out how to word what was going on in her brain.

“We have to tell my family I’m pregnant, Nick.”  She said in an obvious way.  How could he not be thinking about it too? 

“I know that, Sabrina.”  He let out a desperate chuckle.  “It’s not exactly something I planned on hiding.”  They’d talked about this, and would tell the family as soon as possible.  Ambrose usually greeted them at the Holidays with a spiked hot chocolate or Bailey’s and would pick up on something immediately when she didn’t accept. 

“And my friends too.”  Sabrina added.  Nick nodded along, understanding what was happening.  Sabrina was an external processor and needed to talk through what they were going to do, even though they’d done exactly that a million times before heading to Greendale for Christmas this year.  

“Whenever you want, Spellman.”  Nick encouraged her.  He liked her friends, but in his mind sharing with them was a decision that belonged to Sabrina.  Theo was a cool guy and Roz was sweet to him.  He was always a little hesitant around Harvey, the guy was her first love and she’d mentioned the sting of their breakup when Nick had first met her, but they got along well enough.  Nick chanced a small smile as he thought of their New Year’s plans.  “Though I assume they’ll also suspect something when you don’t partake in the Champagne Fountain.”   

“Yeah, we should tell them when we meet up at Cee’s the day after Christmas.”  Sabrina grumbled.  Nick sensed her nervousness and squeezed her hand before bringing it to her lips to kiss the back of it.  She smiled slightly back and caught his gaze when he glanced at her again.  “Are you nervous, Nick?”

“To tell your family?”  He asked as she nodded.  “Yes, Spellman, I’m nervous.”  Sabrina blew out a breath she’d been holding, clearly put more at ease to know he’d felt similarly to her.  She thought she was maybe alone in the feeling.  They knew her Aunts and cousin would be happy for them, but they’d likely be shocked.   

“Why are you nervous?”  She asked him.  

“Well, I did knock you up.”  Nick started as he scratched his brow and Sabrina let out a much needed laugh.  She leaned over and kissed his cheek, which reddened at the brush of her lips.  She lingered for a moment, but then remembered he was driving and pulled away.  “I do think they’ll be excited.  But I also think there’s a slight chance your Aunt Zelda will string me out by my ankles and Hilda will bake me into a meat pie.” 

Sabrina laughed again and this time Nick joined her, enjoying the light moment for what it was.  He caught a glimpse of their future, the two of them giggling heading over to the Auntie’s house, except in his vision there was a babbling baby in a carseat in the back.  The thought calmed his nerves a bit.  

“My Aunties love you, Nick.  You know that.”  She reached over the middle console and brushed his hair once.  “I think you’ve had them in your corner since day one.  And Ambrose is one of your closest friends now.” 

“Shit I forgot about, Ambrose.  He’ll kill me for sure.”  Nick leaned his head back on the seat for a moment, but Sabrina caught his smirk and knew he was kidding.  

“Most importantly, they know you love me.”  Sabrina shrugged.

“I do, Sabrina.”  Nick said seriously and grabbed her hand to kiss it again, miffed he was driving so he couldn’t kiss her lips.  “So much.” 

“I know.”  Sabrina said with a soft smile. 

“Why are you nervous?”  Nick asked her then, forcing his concentration back on the road.  

“I guess I’m worried what they’ll expect from me.  I know they won’t be mad, but I want them to believe I can do it.  Be a mom.”   

“You’re gonna be the best mom, Sabrina.”  Nick couldn’t help but cut in.  He had no doubt she was going to be amazing.  As one of the most caring and gentle people he knew, and at the same time the strongest, there was no way she wouldn’t be a great mother.  Sabrina too wanted nothing more than to reach over and kiss him soundly, so she settled for rubbing her thumb on the palm of his hand. 

“I guess I’m worried Hilda will start planning a wedding.”  Sabrina said this as she looked down, worried what his reaction would be.  

“We forge our own path, Sabrina.”  Nick answered her.  She nodded, though not quite shaking the fear of disappointing her Aunties.  She wanted to make them proud, and feared marriage would be a point of contention.  

Nick and Sabrina weren’t married and he hadn’t proposed yet, knowing that a post-pregnancy proposal was not the reason Sabrina would want him to do it.  Waking up the morning after the positive test, naked and each other’s arms, they’d had the marriage conversation and came to the same conclusion.  Despite the fact that he’d wanted to marry her since she walked out in the cold in her slinky pajamas and into his blanket-clad arms all those years ago and she learned early on she didn’t want him to let go, they wanted to focus on being parents first.  They were confident that they didn’t need a piece of paper to show the world how committed they were to each other.  They’d marry someday but it didn’t have to be today.  Nick wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Sabrina.  They were in it for the long-haul and a baby didn’t change that nor did it force either into staying.  Staying was always something that would be.     

“I know.”  Sabrina nodded and took a big breath.  “You do know that I want to marry you right?”  Sabrina asked him and bit her bottom lip, hoping he knew how much she loved him.  Nick thanked the heavens in that moment that they’d gotten off the highway and he’d spotted a small store he could pull into.  Her face stirred in confusion as he pulled over and parked.  “Nick, what are you-” 

“I love you, Sabrina.”  He turned his body completely towards her.  “And it is because I love you so much that I can feel how much you love me.  The way your heart beats?  Mine beats the same.”  Sabrina’s eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall.  Damn those pregnancy hormones.  And damn her boyfriend’s way with words.  “I have absolutely zero doubts that you will be my wife.  I also have zero doubt that we have to do that now in order for that to happen.”  He grabbed her head, grazing her hair with his fingers and wiping tears with his thumb.  “I love you.  It’s as simple as that.”  

She leaned in and kissed him soundly, feeling tears of his own fall and grazing her cheek.  She pulled him closer and wrapped her hand in his hair, using her lips against his to confirm that she wanted the same things.  That she loved him so fucking much it was insane.  And the way he responded only solidified the smooth words he had spoken before she’d kissed him. She was still nervous to tell her family but the nerves were fanned down slightly by the man, the partner, she’d have for life.  

“I love you, Nick.”  She whispered against his lips when she finally broke away.  “We should probably get going though.”  

“Ugh you’re right.”  He groaned over-dramatically and pecked her lips one more time before putting the car back in drive and getting back on the road.   They weren’t far now.  

“I’m always right.”  Sabrina teased, enjoying the way both of their moods had lifted.  He raised one brow and smirked, pulling one of his favorite memories to the forefront of his mind. 

“Oh yeah?  Remember when you thought I was naked under a blanket so you wouldn’t let me share with you?  Those PJ’s you wore were not winter appropriate.”  

“You got me in your arms eventually.”  She smirked back.  “And you seemed to like those pajamas when you took them off later.”

“Which is precisely why I liked them.”  He quipped and she snorted, grabbing onto his hand again.  He kissed her hand for a third time before speaking.  “We got this, Spellman.”

“Yeah, we got this.”  She squeezed his hand back and took a deep breath, ready to tell her family. 

                                                        -

Sabrina managed to avoid the alcoholic drinks Ambrose had offered essentially the second they’d walked in the door.  She blamed it on feeling nauseous, craving Hilda’s homemade tea blend instead.  It wasn’t a complete lie, having had morning sickness more often than not most days.  

Hilda had greeted them in the doorway, with hugs and kisses on cheeks for both Nick and Sabrina, and Ambrose helped them bring their things up to Sabrina’s old room.  The Aunties had never attempted to make Nick stay in a different room even when he’d come home with her the first time, and soon when they shared their news they never would.  

“So why did you gather us in the parlor for pre-dinner drinks, Sabrina?”  Zelda asked as she puffed her cigarette.  She was sipping a martini as Sabrina grabbed for a teacup, holding it delicately in her hands and playing with the rim.  Zelda’s eyes kept darting to her hand, looking for an engagement ring.  She and Hilda suspected that maybe Nicholas had proposed, but he hadn’t asked their permission.  And he was the type of gentleman that would, so she figured that wasn’t what this was about. 

“Yes, cousin.  Do tell.”  Ambrose teased her as he drank tea too, but held his pinky up in mockery.  He’d done the same thing as kids when she’d forced him to have a tea party with her.  

“Well.”  Sabrina started as she looked sideways at Nick and bit her lip.  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder in support and raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she wanted him to take it from there.  Sabrina shook her head and took a deep breath, turning to look at Hilda.  She figured that Aunt would be the best to make eye contact while breaking the news.  “Nick and I…”

“Are you breaking up?”  Ambrose asked.  “Because forcing your ex to come to Christmas dinner is quite rude.”  

“Shut up, Ambrose.  We are not breaking up.”  Nick continued to hold her tight, and rubbed circles on her shoulder, biting back a laugh at Ambrose’s teasing but trying to stay on Sabrina’s side.  “Nick and I are expecting.”   

“Expecting what, love?”  Hilda asked innocently but Ambrose’s eyes had already gone wide.  Sabrina kept her eyes off of him, knowing he had understood.

“A baby, Auntie.  I’m pregnant.”  Sabrina finished strong, nodding and smiling before grabbing Nick’s free hand in show of their unity.

“Pregnant.”  Zelda said once, just to make sure she’d heard correctly.  Hilda’s mouth dropped open and she pressed her hand to it.  Her face was a mix of shock and disbelief.  “You’re with child?”

“Yes, she is.”  Nick finally spoke and his eyes darted between the family of his most favorite person, trying to gauge their reactions.

“How did this happen?”  Hilda wanted to know.  Her voice had increased a few octaves but Sabrina recognized the hint of happy tears in the corners of her eyes.  

“Well, Auntie, when a man and a woman love each other very much-”  Ambrose began, his tone all teasing and face smiling, absolutely not taking the conversation seriously.  

“Hush, Ambrose.” Zelda cut him off firmly.  Her mouth was in a thin line and her expression was unreadable. 

“Well, what do you think?”  Sabrina asked slightly unsure.  She glanced at Hilda who was dabbing her eyes and who couldn’t help it anymore.  She got up from her seat and launched herself at the couple, surrounding both of them in her arms.  

“I think it’s lovely, doves.”  She said and Sabrina buried her face in her Aunt’s neck.  “Just wonderful.”

“Thanks, Auntie.”  Sabrina wiped at a few tears of her own.  Ambrose shook his head and came over to the pair too and laughed.  

“Good luck with a little Sabrina, mate.  You’ll need it.”  Sabrina smacked her cousin in the chest before he kissed her head and shook Nick’s hand. 

“Aunt Zee?”  Sabrina asked the elder Aunt now.  She tapped out her cigarette and placed her hands in her lap.  

“We’ll prepare a room here to turn it into a nursery.”  She began and Sabrina’s face twisted in confusion.  Why would they make a nursery at the mortuary?  She turned to Nick who looked just as perplexed.  HIs grip moved to her waist, and he pulled her closer to him.  “And you’ll marry of course.  Nicholas you can move in as well.  We can redecorate her bedroom, it’s quite stuck in a teen time-warp right now.”  

“Aunt Zee, what are you talking about?”  Sabrina treaded carefully, squeezing Nick’s hand before getting up and moving to sit on the couch by her Aunt.  She was worried about the marriage conversation and had narrowly missed it.  But apparently fate had other plans. 

“Uh-oh, let’s go.”  Hilda pulled Ambrose out of the room, but indicated for Nick to stay when he tried to get up too.  

“I’m talking about next steps with this baby.   Marriage and moving here.” 

“Auntie, we’re not doing either of those things.”  She stole a glance at Nick who nodded in agreement.  “At least not right now.”

“Well fine if you won’t get married then you have to move home.  You can finish your classes online and when the baby is born, you’ll have support when you need to work.”  Zelda would hardly look Sabrina in the eyes, like she couldn’t really believe what she was saying either but her brain was working too fast to control it.   

“I have support.  I have Nick.”  But when Zelda scoffed, Sabrina's eyes narrowed and she grew frustrated.  

“Aunt Zee, I’m not moving away from Nick.  Not when it’s his baby I’m carrying.  Plus I don’t want to.  Right now, our life is in Boston.”  Sabrina’s voice was firm too, but her emotions were starting to get the better of her.  All she wanted was her Aunt to be happy for her, and it seemed what she was nervous about was coming true.  “I’ve already moved in with Nick and he and I have talked about marriage.  We will get married eventually but right now we are going to focus on our baby.”   

“What are you going to do with a baby in Boston?”  

“I was a baby in Boston.”  Sabrina pointed out, stubbornness on full display.   

“Exactly.  And we hardly saw you that first year of life.”  Zelda was emotional now too and Sabrina was starting to see that this might not actually be about her pregnancy.  “My brother disappeared to that city and then I lost him.”

“Aunt Zee.”  Sabrina said softly and then grabbed her hand.  She was grateful when her Aunt squeezed tightly.   “You’re not going to lose me.  And it isn’t forever.”  Sabrina eyed Nick again who offered her a smile of support.  “We’ve talked about moving to Greendale when we’re both done with school, throwing a wedding in the gardens here.  We want what you want, just in our own time.”  Zelda turned to Sabrina then and both women had tears in their eyes.  Zelda reached for her niece’s cheek and caressed it.  “I just want you to be proud of me.”

“Oh, Sabrina.”  Zelda started and then leaned in to kiss her forehead, just like she had nearly every day since they got her.  “I am so proud of you.”

“You were the best mom, Aunt Zee.  I just want to be good like you.  If I’m half the mother you were-”  Sabrina trailed off, unable to put into words how much her Aunt meant to her.  Nick smiled on, happy that the conversation was turning for the better. 

“You will be fantastic.  You already are.”  Zelda wiped her nieces cheeks and pulled her in for a hug.  “I’m sorry I was being forceful, I just want what’s best for you.”

“I know that, Aunt Zee.  I love you.”  

“And I see that you do have what’s best for you.”  Zelda said, turning to Nick and giving him a respectful smile.  “I couldn’t have hoped for a better partner for my niece.”

“She’s safe with me.”  Nick said simply with a nod, holding back his own tears.  

The two women made to get up, laughing and wiping each other’s tears again and hugging, Zelda finally offering up her congratulations.  Sabrina pulled Nick into a tight hug too, before tugging at him towards the kitchen.  

“I’ll be right there, babe.  I just wanna chat with your Aunt for a second.”  Sabrina raised her eyebrows but Zelda shrugged in agreement.  Sabrina excused herself with a quick peck to Nick’s lips before heading out to freshen up and wipe underneath her eyes.  

“What is it you’d like to say, Mr. Scratch?”  Zelda asked, getting right to the point.

“I just wanted to thank you, for raising Sabrina the way you did.”  Zelda’s eyebrows raised this time.  She’d always liked Nicholas, respected him, and was excited to consider him officially family.  “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to feel like your little girl is growing up.”

“I imagine you’ll figure it out soon, with a child of your own along the way.”  Zelda pointed out and Nick chuckled.  

“I know us getting pregnant before marriage or even graduating college is not what any of us planned.  But excuse my language, fuck plans.”  Zelda laughed and it boosted Nick’s confidence.  “Sabrina is the love of my life.  I never even considered leaving her side once she finally allowed me a permanent place at it.  She certainly doesn’t need anyone’s protection, but nevertheless she has mine.”  Zelda smiled at Nicholas’ words.  She knew now there was no one else she’d feel as happy having her niece be with.  The man clearly understood her, loved her like no one else.   “I guess what I’m saying is thank you for the mother you were to her.  I look forward to us being family someday.”  

“Oh, Nicholas.”  Zelda placed a hand on his arm.  “You’re already family.  You were long before this baby was conceived, we both know that.”  Zelda surprised them both, pulling him in for a hug and holding him tighter than even Hilda had.  “Thank you.  For loving her.”

“Always.”  He answered simply and the both nodded, wiping away more tears and pulling themselves together before heading for the kitchen. 

“Can we celebrate now?”  Ambrose asked in an annoyed tone.  He was holding a few bottles of champagne and looked like an excited puppy.  “Hilda said I had to wait to pop these.  And it’s not like Sabrina can drink it anyways.”   

Sabrina elbowed him in the side, nearly making him drop them.  She walked over to Nick then, a satisfied smile on her face when she noticed that both Nick and Zelda looked happy.  Their conversation had obviously gone well.  She leaned back into him, wrapping his arms around her front as he kissed her hair and cheeks. 

“Yes, we certainly need to celebrate.”  Zelda confirmed and handed out glasses as Ambrose poured, Hilda grabbing apple juice from the fridge for Sabrina.  “To family.  New and old”  She held her glass high, winking at Nick and Sabrina.  

“To family.”  They all repeated in unison.  Happiness fluttered in Sabrina’s chest as she leaned tighter against the man behind her who was holding her tight.  

She’d never been more grateful for a fire alarm than she was in that moment.